They walked slowly back toward the home base and the small dock. Lam and Ching acted as rear guards, but there was nobody following them.
"Somebody will be looking for us damn soon," Murdock said. "Holt, crank up that box on TAC Two and get the destroyer. I'll talk." A moment later Holt came beside Murdock and held out the handset.
"They're on."
"Chopper guys, we could use some help."
"This is the Floating Friend. What kind of help?"
"Can that bird of yours fly without the gunner?"
"It'll fly, but the weapons aren't much good."
"Could you pick up a casualty and put him in that seat?"
"Against regulations."
"Yeah, but can it be done? Will you do it?"
"Let me get back to you in two minutes."
"Not a chance, Skip," Holt said. "Those are thirty-year career men out there."
When the set came back on, Murdock answered.
"Land guys, that's a negative. The RIBs went out about twenty minutes ago. We'll put them on fast throttle. Be off Nampo in another twenty minutes."
"We won't be out there by that time. We may still have half the NK marines to fight up here. Let you know. Hey, send in that Cobra now, we might need his guns after all."
"That's a roger. The bird is on a three-minute alert. He's almost gone."
"We're about halfway to Nampo Bay. Have him lay off and we'll bring him in with a smoke flare if we need him." "That's a roger, SEALs."
A mile back toward the sea, they had to carry Fernandez. He was loosing blood. Jaybird had done some quick bandaging, but it came loose and he bled again. They stopped, and Jaybird put on another bandage made from the sleeve of his shirt.
They heard truck motors, but had no idea how close to a road they were. They hadn't seen any roads coming in. Murdock wondered how quickly the live ones left below could get any kind of military help. It just depended how many real troops the NK had left in this seaport town.
Maybe a defense force?
An hour later they came up the last rise to the woods where they had left JG DeWitt. Murdock had briefed Jaybird, and he, Lam, and Charley kept going to the pier and checked it out. The same boat they had come down the coast in was still tied up at the pier. Jaybird boarded her, but the captain wasn't there. A man came out of a small building, and Charley talked to him. He laughed and they nodded and Charley gave him some bills.
Charley ran back to Jaybird. "We rent boat again. Fast before captain sober up."
Jaybird got on the Motorola and told Murdock. Jaybird, Lam, and Charley boarded the fishing boat. Charley checked the fuel supply. Less than a quarter of a tank.
"Plenty," Jaybird said.
The SEALs walked over the hill and down the pier in staggered groups. First came two men carrying Fernandez. They put him on board. The man Jaybird had seen talking with Charley came out, got on board, and started the fishing boat's engine to warm it up.
Ten minutes later all the SEALs and the two Korean scouts were on board and Jaybird cast off the two lines. The fishing boat chugged away from the pier and headed out into the bay. They were well away from the pier when two uniformed soldiers ran on it and waved their hands. They fired some rounds, but missed.
"Straight out the bay," Jaybird told Charley to tell the man at the wheel. They were just out of the bay and had cleared two small islands when Murdock remembered the SATCOM. He had Holt turn it on to the TAC Two channel.
"Cobra, are you around and do you have your fangs?"
"Must be SEAL power down below. We're about three miles off Nampo."
"Good. We're just clearing the islands off the bay heading due west in a thirty-foot fishing ship." Jaybird touched Murdock's shoulder and pointed to the north.
"Oh. yes, Cobra, we could use some help. We have a North Korean patrol boat heading our way about a mile off. Can you beat him here?"
"Watch us, SEALs."
Murdock got his troops along the rail on the north side of the ship. "If he gets close enough, we hit him with all the firepower we have. That patrol boat has more firepower than we do, but we can make him think about it, especially the fifties, if you tear up his bridge."
They waited. Murdock didn't even try to figure it. At thirty knots, how long would it take the boat to cover a mile? At 218 miles an hour, how long would it take the Cobra to cover three miles? A tie?
They waited.
Murdock checked on the approaching patrol craft. The NKs could fire their guns three or four miles. What were they waiting for? Confirmation? Murdock told all of his guys to get down so they couldn't be seen from the patrol boat. That could buy them a few minutes.
When he looked again, Murdock figured the boat was no more than a half mile away. He heard a machine gun chatter across the water.
"Down," Murdock bellowed, and his men hit the fishy deck. The rounds landed short.
That was when the Cobra slanted down toward them. Murdock was on his feet waving. Then the rest of the men were up. The Cobra continued past them, and a moment later they heard rockets launch from the Cobra and snake their way across the light blue sky at the fast-moving patrol craft. Murdock heard the rockets hit. Three missed, but four struck the patrol craft, and it slowed and then went dead in the water. Murdock checked it with his binoculars. Its bridge was blown apart. The chopper made another run and fired another salvo of the 70mm rockets at the ship, which resulted in more explosions and then an oily fire.
The SEALs cheered.
Murdock got on the radio.
"Cobra, I like your fangs. You see a pair of RIBs out there anywhere?"
"Saw them coming over. Check your southwest. They are about a half mile from you. We'll stand by until you board."
"Thanks again, Cobra. When you come to Coronado, I owe you a drink and a steak dinner."
"You're on, SEALs. Standing by."
The fishing boat angled southwest, and five minutes later they saw the RIBs rocketing along to meet them.
Jaybird sat down beside Murdock. "Problem, Skipper. I'm bringing Douglas up on charges, dereliction of duty and failure to follow a direct order, resulting in the life-threatening wounding of a fellow SEAL."
He told Murdock what had happened. "Douglas deliberately held up firing to support Fernandez. If he had helped cover Fernandez, Fernandez would not have been wounded. There has been bad blood between those two for the past three months. You must have heard about it. I'm bringing Douglas up on charges and I want you to back me up."
23
USS Cole
The Yellow Sea
Off North Korea
The transfer to the RIBs and the trip back to the destroyer went smoothly. The RIB coxswains throttled back to fifteen knots to reduce the jolting on the two wounded men. DeWitt was feeling better, but Fernandez had taken a turn for the worse. Mahanani didn't know what was the matter. He guessed that the slug must have damaged more in the chest than he'd figured.
Murdock stayed with his wounded men as they were taken to sick bay on the destroyer. Two Navy doctors took over. The medics did some cleanup work on DeWitt's leg, then put him in a hospital bed.
"We want to watch the lieutenant's wound until we get him back to the earner," one of the doctors said. "With field surgery, there's always a chance some infection could run wild. Tell your medic he did a damn fine job locating that slug without any X ray or a CAT scan. I'll give you a letter for his file."
Al Adams's bullet wound through his left arm got a quick working over. A nurse cleaned the wound on both sides, then gave him a shot of antibiotics and a fresh bandage. He was released back to duty with orders to check in every two days at sick bay on the carrier.
Fernandez was another matter. Murdock looked up from a magazine as the doctor came into the waiting area.
"Fernandez's condition is critical. One of his lungs has started to collapse, but we've taken care of that. The slug shattered when it hit a rib and caused a lot of trouble inside. The wounds to his shoulder ar
e not a problem. We're doing more tests, but it's going to be a watch-and-wait situation. I'll keep you informed about his condition. He's a SEAL, right?"
"Yes sir. One of my best men. I don't want to lose him."
"Right now we can't tell just how bad it is. We should know in eight to ten hours."
Murdock thanked him, and went with Al Adams back to their assembly room. When they got in the door at the room, Jaybird had the men working on their weapons. They all had changed from the Korean civilian clothes back to cammies.
"Feels a hell of a lot better than them damn pajamas," Ronson said. That drew a chorus of cheers.
"The JG is in good shape, but they kidnapped him until we get to the carrier," Murdock said.
"Fernandez is still under the knife. They don't know exactly how much damage there was. One of the bullets in his chest shattered and caused all sorts of hell. We're waiting to see what the medics say."
The telephone rang and Murdock took it. Don Stroh was on the radio hookup from the carrier.
"You shit-kickers really get the job done. Damn but I love you guys. Two out of three. The odds around Eighth Army HQ was that you'd only get one of those North Korean generals."
"Any fallout yet from the two men down?" Murdock asked.
"None. Not even an announcement that the two generals had been killed in an accident or due to some serious illness. Nobody is sure what to expect from these crafty Orientals."
Murdock moved away from his men and talked quietly.
"Look, we're down to eleven men, ten really. We can't function this way. Don't cook up any new missions for us. If you haven't heard, DeWitt has a bad leg wound and is out of action. The platoon is dead in the water here."
"Don't worry about it. You might have lots of time. Word at Eighth Army HQ is that the attacks all along the line have stopped. The North seems to be having second thoughts. Our side has halted all offensive thrusts and curtailed the air war. It's like a cease-fire without any talking about it."
"Think they're serious?"
"I'd say so. General Reynolds thinks so. The Vice President is still in Seoul. I hear that he's been authorized to put on the table the same offer he made at Panmunjom the day before the war started. The food supplies and medical teams and goods, if it gets to the civilian population. The offer may already have been made."
"So maybe those two snuffs did some good?"
"I'd say they made all the difference. You took out the top two men. Now the third general has to decide what to do. Besides, he'll be scared to death to put his head out of a concrete bunker somewhere. The civilian guy they brought in might also have some say. Who knows."
"Not me, Stroh. I leave politics to the professionals. Now, I'm heading for a shower. We'll see you in about six hours or so. In the meantime, I'm getting hungry enough to eat your old shoes. See you soon."
Murdock went for a shower and some clean clothes. The men were heading for a special chow.
Murdock had no idea what time it was. They had been up since midnight. He looked at his watch: It was 1330. It had been a long day. He had a meal in the wardroom, then hit his bunk hard and slept.
The huge beast with war clubs in each hand kept banging on the castle wall. Murdock told it to get lost. But it banged and banged. Murdock stirred on his bunk, shook his head, and sat up.
"Yeah, yeah, hold your skivvies up." He stumbled to the door and opened it. The sailor grinned.
"Sorry, sir, to wake you. You have a special radio call from the carrier. The guy was insistent. A Mr. Stroh."
"Yeah. I'll get my pants on and you point me to the closest hookup." A few minutes later, Murdock took the phone and whispered into the mouthpiece. "Stroh, you unrepentant chicken plucker. You better have a good reason for waking me up or I'll pluck you clean when I get back on the carrier."
"I love you too, Murdock. We've got good news. The civilian man I spoke about, who was number four in the government, has been handed the reins of power by the last general, and he's called for a cease-fire. I'd say you boys could be heading home in a day or two as soon as I can make some arrangements."
"You're off the hook, Stroh fish-catcher. Damn you, Stroh, I just got to sleep. While I'm up, find out if there's an NCIS man on board the Monroe. I've got some serious charges to bring and I want it done right."
"Yeah, what's the NCIS?"
"You've got to know that, Stroh. It's the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, a civilian operation that works directly with the CNO and isn't subject to any regular Naval authority. Entirely impartial and can investigate anything from a five star admiral down to the lowliest deck swabber."
"I'll find out. You should be on board in another two hours. Take another nap. You're no fun when you're so cranky."
"Yeah, Stroh, go fish."
Murdock smiled as he hung up. So the Little War was over. He didn't quite know how many days it had lasted, but the SEALs sure as hell had had a lot to do with ending it. Yeah, another nap sounded just about right.
The next day on board the Monroe, Murdock listened to the carrier's legal officer explaining it again. He still wasn't sure that he understood it yet.
"While the offense did not take place on the carrier, it was done by an enlisted man assigned here on temporary duty, and as such he comes under the legal control of this command.
"Charges of dereliction of duty and failure to follow a direct order have been placed in proper form and order with this command. We have taken the man into custody and he will be transported to San Diego, where he will be subjected to a hearing to determine if a court-martial should be held. Any such hearing and court-martial would be held at the Naval Special Warfare Command in Coronado. Is everyone clear on this?"
Murdock, Jaybird, and Joe Douglas nodded.
"Then this meeting is over. Return the prisoner to the brig."
Two Master-at-Arms men stood beside Douglas. They indicated he should go with them.
Douglas turned to Murdock. "Commander, you know I didn't do nothing like this. Jaybird hates my guts, always has since I first signed on. He told me he'd get me sooner or later."
Murdock waved him off. "You'll have your day at the court-martial, Douglas. You better just keep quiet now."
Jaybird shook his head. "Damnit, Skipper, I never should have let the two be side by side back there on that hill. Things were coming down damn fast right then. They were the closest ones to cover that right flank. I reacted without thinking about the trouble between the two. Yeah, I knew about it. JG and I even talked about leaving Douglas behind on the last mission. We decided we needed his gun. Fucking bad decision, it turns out."
Four days later, Fernandez had stabilized enough that he could be airlifted on an ambulance plane out of Seoul with other war casualties and flown to San Francisco. The Army wounded would go to Letterman General Hospital there, and three Navy men would continue on to Balboa Naval Hospital in San Diego.
Stroh had made the arrangements for Air Force transport, and the rest of the platoon lifted off a day after Fernandez. Al Adams was well on his way to healing. DeWitt was still using a pair of crutches, and would go into Balboa as well when the platoon checked into Coronado.
Joe Douglas made the trip in handcuffs and leg irons, and was isolated in the farthest back seat of the big transport.
News of the charges against Douglas preceded the SEALs into their base, and Master Chief Gordon MacKenzie stood with folded amis as the platoon jumped down from the six-by that had transported them and their gear from North Island Naval Air Station.
The master chief came to attention in front of Murdock and saluted. Murdock returned the salute.
"It see ms we have a bit of a problem, Commander, with one of your boys. The old man is furious. Evidently it got out of hand. We'll deal with it." The master chief frowned and looked away.
"One more thing. Commander Masciarelli said he wants to see you the second you hit base. We better humor him on this one."
"We? You coming?"
Murdock gave his gear to Jaybird and headed for the Old Man's lair. He never liked meeting with Commander Masciarelli. The man was a political animal — sure, a SEAL once, but he was a fucking hell of a long way from there now. Murdock marched his way past the buildings to the headquarters of Team Seven and went in. He was gritty from the long flight, grimy, and probably smelled. Good.
A bright young second-class female with a flat chest grinned at Murdock.
"Boss wants to see you right away." She led him to a door ten paces away and knocked, then pushed it open. She wasn't about to go inside. Murdock went in, put his floppy hat under his arm, and stepped up to the desk with its totally bare and polished top. He snapped to attention. "Sir, Lieutenant Commander Murdock reporting."
Commander Dean Masciarelli put down a report he had been reading and glared at Murdock.
"You intend to go through with these charges against Douglas?"
"Absolutely, sir. It's a definite case of disobeying an order while under fire that resulted in the critical wounding of another SEAL. It's a plain dereliction of duty."
"You're a lawyer now, Murdock?"
"No, sir."
"Good, my advice is to stop the charges now, ship Douglas out to Adak, and forget the whole mess." "Sir, in my opinion that action would not be in the best interest of the SEALs, nor of the U.S. Navy."
Masciarelli groaned. "Murdock, when are you going to stop fighting the program and learn how to work with the Navy?"
"Sir, I never really…" He stopped.
The commander looked up. "Almost blurted it out, didn't you, Murdock. You have no real desire to go up the promotion ladder. You don't want those admiral's stripes on your sleeve. We've been over this before. I hear you turned down an offer to work with the CNO."
"Not my kind of job, sir."
"Yeah, you're probably right there. This Douglas matter. You know I'll be on the hearing board, and if it gets a go, probably also on the court."
"Yes, sir."
"You have no objections?"
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