Read Online Under Siege by Keith Douglass - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Keith Douglass
Ads: Link
morning.
6
Washington, DC
The Pentagon
Murdock put down the phone at his desk in the chief of Naval Operations office, his smile lighting up the room. He called his assistant.
“Get Commander Masciareli on the phone. He’s in Coronado at NAVSPECWARGRUP-ONE.”
“Yes, sir.”
Twenty seconds later the call went through.
“Commander Masciareli, this is Murdock with the CNO. Admiral Hagerson just asked me to call you and alert Third Platoon, SEAL Team Seven, for deployment in six hours. They’ll fly from North Island as usual. Tell Lieutenant DeWitt to bring all of my gear out of my locker. Go in jungle cammies, all weapons and ammo. Be ready for a long flight.”
“Where to, Commander?”
“Miami is the first stop. That’s all the CNO said I could tell you. This is on the direct orders of the president. Tell the men I’ll meet them in Miami International at the transient aircraft section.”
“That’s it?”
“All we can say right now. I’ve got to get moving. Thanks, Commander. Take care.” Murdock hung up grinning. Masciareli would be eaten up with curiosity. A moment later Don Stroh called.
“We’re off again, old buddy. We fly out of Andrews, so I’ll meet you at the flight line. We’ve got an hour and thirty minutes to get onboard. So rattle your bustle.”
“Left it at home. See you then.”
They made it just on time and settled into the first-class luxury of a Navy UC-11, a Gulfstream III executive business jet reconfigured for the military. It was top of the line for fast movement of important people. Now, Stroh and Murdock and a Navy vice admiral who needed to get to Miami fast were the only passengers. At just over five hundred miles an hour, it would be a quick flight to Miami. Murdock didn’t even want to figure how long it would take. Instead, he had a nap, interrupted by a hot lunch served on china and with real silverware and linen napkins.
At Miami they waited for the SEALs to arrive in their Gulfstream II. It was slightly smaller than the jet Murdock came down in, and a little less plush, but it carried seats for five more passengers than the larger jet. Murdock and Stroh climbed onboard as the plane idled its jets. They buttoned it up immediately and it taxied out and was given top priority to take off.
“Some damn hurry we’re in,” Jaybird cracked.
“One big hell of a rush,” Murdock said. “We’re heading for the southwest coast of Africa, to the new little country of New Namibia.”
“Why the hell we going down there?” DeWitt asked.
“To rescue a damsel in distress,” Stroh said. “Seems the president’s wife, the First Lady herself, has gone and got herself kidnapped, and we’ve been elected to go in and bring her out.”
“Jesus H. Kereist, Stroh,” Senior Chief Elmer Neal said. “When the hell are you going to get us an easy one? Just snatch back the First Lady! Sounds like a fucking walk in the park.”
“That’s what you get for being the best damn platoon in the whole U.S. military establishment,” Stroh said. “Now listen up and I’ll tell you everything that the CIA and the president himself knows about this situation.”
Over the muffled purring of the two big Rolls-Royce RB163-25 Spey Mark 511 turbofan engines, Stroh laid out the problem, the situation, and that there would be a platoon of Delta Force soldiers on site to try to contain the bad guys and clear the way for the SEALs to go in and rescue the First Lady.
“We heading over the Atlantic?” Hospital Corpsman First Class Jack Mahanani asked.
“How else can you get to Africa?” Radioman Second Class Derek Prescott jibed. “Of course we’re going across. My question is can this aluminum bucket make it in one jump?”
Half the men looked at Jaybird. “Hell yes, and with barrels of petrol to spare. This bird will do over forty-two hundred miles before it needs a drink.”
“We’re scheduled to make a quick stop in Senegal, then go south across the Gulf of Guinea to
6
Washington, DC
The Pentagon
Murdock put down the phone at his desk in the chief of Naval Operations office, his smile lighting up the room. He called his assistant.
“Get Commander Masciareli on the phone. He’s in Coronado at NAVSPECWARGRUP-ONE.”
“Yes, sir.”
Twenty seconds later the call went through.
“Commander Masciareli, this is Murdock with the CNO. Admiral Hagerson just asked me to call you and alert Third Platoon, SEAL Team Seven, for deployment in six hours. They’ll fly from North Island as usual. Tell Lieutenant DeWitt to bring all of my gear out of my locker. Go in jungle cammies, all weapons and ammo. Be ready for a long flight.”
“Where to, Commander?”
“Miami is the first stop. That’s all the CNO said I could tell you. This is on the direct orders of the president. Tell the men I’ll meet them in Miami International at the transient aircraft section.”
“That’s it?”
“All we can say right now. I’ve got to get moving. Thanks, Commander. Take care.” Murdock hung up grinning. Masciareli would be eaten up with curiosity. A moment later Don Stroh called.
“We’re off again, old buddy. We fly out of Andrews, so I’ll meet you at the flight line. We’ve got an hour and thirty minutes to get onboard. So rattle your bustle.”
“Left it at home. See you then.”
They made it just on time and settled into the first-class luxury of a Navy UC-11, a Gulfstream III executive business jet reconfigured for the military. It was top of the line for fast movement of important people. Now, Stroh and Murdock and a Navy vice admiral who needed to get to Miami fast were the only passengers. At just over five hundred miles an hour, it would be a quick flight to Miami. Murdock didn’t even want to figure how long it would take. Instead, he had a nap, interrupted by a hot lunch served on china and with real silverware and linen napkins.
At Miami they waited for the SEALs to arrive in their Gulfstream II. It was slightly smaller than the jet Murdock came down in, and a little less plush, but it carried seats for five more passengers than the larger jet. Murdock and Stroh climbed onboard as the plane idled its jets. They buttoned it up immediately and it taxied out and was given top priority to take off.
“Some damn hurry we’re in,” Jaybird cracked.
“One big hell of a rush,” Murdock said. “We’re heading for the southwest coast of Africa, to the new little country of New Namibia.”
“Why the hell we going down there?” DeWitt asked.
“To rescue a damsel in distress,” Stroh said. “Seems the president’s wife, the First Lady herself, has gone and got herself kidnapped, and we’ve been elected to go in and bring her out.”
“Jesus H. Kereist, Stroh,” Senior Chief Elmer Neal said. “When the hell are you going to get us an easy one? Just snatch back the First Lady! Sounds like a fucking walk in the park.”
“That’s what you get for being the best damn platoon in the whole U.S. military establishment,” Stroh said. “Now listen up and I’ll tell you everything that the CIA and the president himself knows about this situation.”
Over the muffled purring of the two big Rolls-Royce RB163-25 Spey Mark 511 turbofan engines, Stroh laid out the problem, the situation, and that there would be a platoon of Delta Force soldiers on site to try to contain the bad guys and clear the way for the SEALs to go in and rescue the First Lady.
“We heading over the Atlantic?” Hospital Corpsman First Class Jack Mahanani asked.
“How else can you get to Africa?” Radioman Second Class Derek Prescott jibed. “Of course we’re going across. My question is can this aluminum bucket make it in one jump?”
Half the men looked at Jaybird. “Hell yes, and with barrels of petrol to spare. This bird will do over forty-two hundred miles before it needs a drink.”
“We’re scheduled to make a quick stop in Senegal, then go south across the Gulf of Guinea to
Similar Books
