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“Give yourself up,” Ronkowski roared with a heavy voice. “You'll only end up wounded or dead. Throw out your weapon and come out with your hands—”

A shot blasted into his sentence. Ronkowski returned fire, six rounds under both cars toward the sound of the other gun. Nothing happened. Daniels held his right shoulder with his left hand to stop the flow of blood. He tried to raise the Glock, and got it up waist high. He aimed it at the third car and put a round through the rear window. Glass shattered as the panel erupted inward, granulating into small squares. He shot out the driver's-side rear window, and had a flash of the shooter, but he ducked away out of sight.

“No other doors or windows out of this firetrap,” Ronkowski said. “We're DEA agents and you're under arrest for narcotics smuggling. Why get yourself dead for the big shots who make all the money? A few years in prison and you'll still be alive and back with your family.”

Before Daniels could move again, he saw a figure lunge out from the cover of the third car and charge straight at him, a handgun in front firing. Daniels crouched behind the car's rear fender and after he heard six more shots, he lifted the Glock up and found the shooter four feet away and coming fast. Daniels shot him three times in the chest before he fell against the rear deck of the Plymouth and rolled off on the floor, the pistol sliding out of his hand.

Daniels checked him. “We've got a dead body here, Ronkowski. How's yours?”

“Dead and gone,” Ronkowski said. “I've got one smart one here and about a hundred pounds of coke. I'll go bring up the car. This one is handcuffed to the rear door handle.”

He came around the door and saw Daniels's bloody shoulder. “I'll get Mahanani in here. He's a medical corpsman and
can fix up that shoulder until I get you to the hospital. Time to use the radio. What's the call signal.”

“Casa Grande Takedown. Tell them we've got two dead and two prisoners including the driver and the coke. They should pounce on the casino guys.”

Five minutes later, Mahanani had found a first-aid kit in the garage and treated the shoulder wound as best he could. “Not enough medicine or bandages in here to do much good, but I've got the blood stopped and your arm tied to your chest. I heard the other guy send in the troops at the casino. Hope to hell they get everyone.”

“Where's the nearest emergency room?” Ronkowski asked. Mahanani shook his head.

Ronkowski used a cell phone and dialed 911. “Hi, 911, I'm a DEA agent and we have a wounded man. I'm in San Ysidro. Where's the nearest hospital with an emergency room?”

“Do you wish an ambulance?”

“No, just tell me where I can drive our wounded agent to.”

“Just a moment, sir.”

Ronkowski frowned.

Daniels scowled. “Ronkowski, you stay here and call for some backup to get the prisoners and the coke. Maybe Mahanani can drive me to the hospital.”

“Sir, that would be the Paradise Valley Hospital in National City. That's at 2400 E. Fourth Street in National City. I have an ambulance driver to tell you how to get there from San Ysidro.”

Ronkowski repeated the directions from the ambulance driver. It was up Interstate 5 and not far off the freeway. Mahanani memorized the route, then took Daniels out to the DEA car and helped him inside. Hernando had driven the smuggler's car back into the lot, with the driver handcuffed to the steering wheel, and went inside to help Ronkowski.

By the time Mahanani drove to the hospital, there were two DEA men there waiting for them. One took Daniels into Emergency, the other drove Mahanani back to his apartment in Coronado.

“How did it go at the casino?” the SEAL asked on the way back.

The DEA man shook his head. “Can't say a thing about that officially. But I understand you set up this raid. I'd say we came out pretty well.”

Mahanani stared at his front door. When the DEA car drove away, he walked over to his Buick, slid in, and drove over the bridge and toward the casino. He had to find out just how deep the drug business went in the casino.

In the parking lot he saw no police cars, no yellow crime-scene tape. He parked and went in the front door. Harley did not grab him. He went straight to the floor manager, and then was taken to the night manager. He was an Indian with a ponytail.

“What's this about,” he said. “I'm Long Bow Anderson, and I'm the boss around here at night.”

“This has to do with Harley and Martillo.”

The manager frowned. “How do you know about that?”

“Check your records. Martillo said I owned the casino six thousand dollars. I want to find out if his records are right.”

“Can't be. We don't allow anyone to run a tab here. Against our rules. Cash or nothing. Only way we can do business. We do have a short list of those we have banned from playing here due to behavior. Let me check the computer.”

He hit some keys on the computer and evidently read down a list. “Mahanani?”

The SEAL nodded. “Nobody by that name on our meet-greet-and-turn-around list.” He hesitated. “You were involved with the highly illegal and totally unknown practices that Martillo had been conducting?”

“I got sucked into part of it, yes.”

“Let me assure you that you do not have a debt with us, and that if there are any papers of any kind with your name on them, they will be returned to you. Did you put up any collateral for that phony IOU?”

“The pink slip for my car.”

“We'll find it and get it back to you within a week. Is there anything else?”

“Martillo had friends. I don't want them coming after me. Was he taken by the DEA people tonight?”

Long Bow looked uncomfortable. “It was done with almost no disruption of our gaming. Yes, they took Martillo, Harley Thunder, and three other men who had originally been hired as bouncers here but had been discharged sometime ago. We believe that those five were the only criminals using our casino as a front for their illegal activities.”

Mahanani grinned and stood. He held out his hand. “Thanks, you've taken a great load off my mind. You've given me my life back again.”

He walked out of the office and to the gaming rooms. He started to go in, then stopped. There was no pull, not an appeal of any kind. The whole gambling fever had been washed out of him. Nothing like getting scared shitless to cure the gambling fever, Mahanani decided. He grinned and headed for his apartment in Coronado.

27

 

 

The day after they returned from Santa Barbara, Murdock sat in the office with Lieutenant Ed DeWitt and both were grinning.

“I told Milly and she kissed me for about ten minutes. We celebrated in the bedroom for the next two hours and had our cold dinner about ten o'clock. Oh, yeah, Milly is just damn glad that I'm getting rid of Third Platoon duties.”

“I'm glad, but I'm pissed off too,” Murdock said. “You're going to be impossible to replace, so I'll have to find a clone of you that I can train up to your level of skill and technique and judgment in the field. Gonna be one tough mother to find that kind of a man.”

“Yeah, I bet. You must have the master chief lining up a dozen candidates right now.”

“Fact is, I haven't. I just put the paperwork through yesterday afternoon. We don't even know if the Old Man will buy you for that vacancy. I'm betting he will, but you can never second-guess the commander.”

“In the meantime the fight goes on,” DeWitt said. “What's on deck for training today?”

“Haven't even thought about it. We do need a new man for your squad. That's going to take some doing. Be pleased if you'd sit in on the selection even though you're for sure a lame duck of a squad leader.”

“Hey, I like the sound of that. I want to get the best man I can to replace Franklin. Never realize how many good things a man does until he's not doing them anymore. I'll check with the master chief. He's probably got a list of young
gung-ho candidates for our platoon who are just itching to get shot at.”

“Work on that first. We'll do that jogging and O course work we were going to do yesterday.”

Jaybird stuck his nose in the door. “Hey, Skipper, no day off after a mission?”

“You call that walk in the park yesterday a mission, Jaybird? Damn but you're getting soft and touchy in your old age. What are you, twenty-five now?”

“Getting close, Skipper. Don't worry about us troops out there in the hot sun. Hell, this is what we signed on to do, right? To get shot at. My bet is we hit the O course today.”

“Jaybird, get your ass out of here, we're busy.”

Jaybird gave an exaggerated salute, a snappy about-face, and hurried out the door.

The phone rang and Murdock picked it up. “Team Seven, Third Platoon, Murdock here.”

There was a slight pause. Then the voice came soft and totally feminine. “You always sound so brusque and tough when you say that. You going to be home for lunch?”

“How did the interview go yesterday? I got back so late last night I didn't want to wake you.”

“Interview? Interview? I had an interview yesterday? Oh, yes, that old thing. It went fine. We'll talk about it over lunch. I have some shrimp I need to do something with. See what I can whip up.”

“See you at twelve-ten.”

“See you too. Bye.”

DeWitt looked up from the training schedule. “Interview? For Ardith? Whoa, you mean she might move out here?”

“She went to a job-offer meeting yesterday, and I was so bummed out when I got back I didn't wake her and ask her about it. This morning I got in early. Yeah, she had a talk with some guys here who chased her down in D.C. and want her brain out here.”

“That scare you a little, old buddy? The ball and chain, and all that sort of stuff. Maybe even the center aisle. Get your scare machine wound up a bit? Hey, it isn't so bad. Believe me.”

“Yeah, you're an old married man of what, eight months or so? You're the expert.”

They both laughed.

“Hell, there aren't any experts on women or on marriage,” DeWitt said. “Just have to take the woman one day at a time, and the marriage one second at a time. And that's my expert opinion.”

DeWitt chuckled as he headed for the Quarter Deck to talk with the master chief about a replacement for Franklin. Murdock looked at his roster, then at the officers in the other platoons on Team Seven. He didn't see any one man who stood out over the rest. He'd have to look for a JG. He didn't even know some of the men. Others he had come up through the officer ranks with.

He pushed it aside. He would talk with the master chief if and when Masciareli gave him the go-ahead for a transfer of DeWitt to his own platoon. He looked at the in basket on his small desk and decided it was time to bite the bullet and get some of it cleaned up.

Noon came before he was ready. He drove home quickly and ran up the steps to his second-floor apartment. Ardith met him at the door with a huge hug. She wouldn't let him go.

When he carried her into the kitchen, she at last relaxed her grip on him and lifted her head off his shoulder. Her soft blue eyes were so excited she didn't have to say a thing. But it was her day. He waited.

“Did the interview yesterday go well?”

“Yes.” Her grin made her look ten years younger, like a high school kid who'd just found out she'd made the cheerleader squad.

“Went well, extremely well. They liked me. I liked what I saw, and I was taken by the people. Casual, relaxed, yet sharp, inventive, and constructive. They showed me through the routine of a job, a client, their problem, how it was worked on until a solution came, and then a unique way to solve the problem with software that we designed.”

She led him to the kitchen table and held the chair for him. Murdock sat down feeling strange being waited on this way.

“You made up your mind?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. I'm taking the job. It's going to be glorious. I can let my creativity flow and billow and soar.” She watched him closely. Murdock jumped up, knocked the chair over backward, grabbed Ardith, and lifted her off the floor and twirled her around in the small kitchen.

“Great! Just great. I'm as happy as you are that it worked out so well. When do you start?”

“They wanted me to start tomorrow. I told them I had to give two weeks notice and then pack up and move, and I thought maybe we could find a bigger place, more than one bedroom. You never can tell what might happen. And I can use the second bedroom as a home office, and maybe not go in every day, and all of that, and then you might want a den or . . .” She watched him again intently.

He grinned and sat her down at the table. “Hey, don't worry about it. If you want a bigger place, we get a bigger place. We could even think about buying a house, maybe a used one, the new ones cost so damn much, a half million dollars and up.”

Ardith shivered. “So much?”

“We'll work it out. For now we'll store most of your stuff and you move in here and then we start looking. Going to be a big change for both of us.”

She reached across the table and grabbed his hands. “You are pleased then?”

“If you're this happy, how can I not be happy too? Happy never fills a stomach. What's for lunch?”

“It seems to me I said this once before. But, well, since you didn't have almost anything in the house to eat, I ate the shrimp before you came. So, well. Hey, your lunch is me.” Ardith jumped up from the table and ran into the bedroom. She beat Murdock there by only half a step.

SEAL TALK
MILITARY GLOSSARY

 

 

Aalvin:
Small U.S. two-man submarine.

Admin:
Short for administration.

Aegis:
Advanced Naval air defense radar system.

AH-1W Super Cobra:
Has M179 undernose turret with 20mm Gatling gun.

AK-47:
7.63-round Russian Kalashnikov automatic rifle. Most widely used assault rifle in the world.

AK-74:
New, improved version of the Kalashnikov. Fires the 5.45mm round. Has 30-round magazine. Rate of fire: 600 rounds per minute. Many slight variations made for many different nations.

AN/PRC-117D:
Radio, also called SATCOM. Works with Milstar satellite in 22,300-mile equatorial orbit for instant worldwide radio, voice, or video communications. Size: 15 inches high, 3 inches wide, 3 inches deep. Weighs 15 pounds. Microphone and voice output. Has encrypter, capable of burst transmissions of less than a second.

AN/PUS-7:
Night-vision goggles. Weighs 1.5 pounds.

ANVIS-6:
Night-vision goggles on air crewmen's helmets.

APC:
Armored Personnel Carrier.

ASROC:
Nuclear-tipped antisubmarine rocket torpedoes launched by Navy ships.

Assault Vest:
Combat vest with full loadouts of ammo, gear.

ASW:
Anti-Submarine Warfare.

Attack Board:
Molded plastic with two handgrips with bubble compass on it. Also depth gauge and Cyalume
chemical lights with twist knob to regulate amount of light. Used for underwater guidance on long swim.

Aurora:
Air Force recon plane. Can circle at 90,000 feet. Can't be seen or heard from ground. Used for thermal imaging.

AWACS:
Airborne Warning And Control System. Radar units in high-flying aircraft to scan for planes at any altitude out 200 miles. Controls air-to-air engagements with enemy forces. Planes have a mass of communication and electronic equipment.

Balaclavas:
Headgear worn by some SEALs.

Bent Spear:
Less serious nuclear violation of safety.

BKA, Bundeskriminant:
Germany's federal investigation unit.

Black Talon:
Lethal hollow-point ammunition made by Winchester. Outlawed some places.

Blivet:
A collapsible fuel container. SEALs sometimes use it.

BLU-43B:
Antipersonnel mine used by SEALs.

BLU-96:
A fuel-air explosive bomb. It disperses a fuel oil into the air, then explodes the cloud. Many times more powerful than conventional bombs because it doesn't carry its own chemical oxidizers.

BMP-1:
Soviet armored fighting vehicle (AFV), low, boxy, crew of 3 and 8 combat troops. Has tracks and a 73mm cannon. Also an AT-3 Sagger antitank missile and coaxial machine gun.

Body Armor:
Far too heavy for SEAL use in the water.

Bogey:
Pilots' word for an unidentified aircraft.

Boghammar Boat:
Long, narrow, low dagger boat; high-speed patrol craft. Swedish make. Iran had 40 of them in 1993.

Boomer:
A nuclear-powered missile submarine.

Bought It:
A man has been killed. Also “bought the farm.”

Bow Cat:
The bow catapult on a carrier to launch jets.

Broken Arrow:
Any accident with nuclear weapons, or any incident of nuclear material lost, shot down, crashed, stolen, hijacked.

Browning 9mm High Power:
A Belgium 9mm pistol, 13 rounds in magazine. First made 1935.

Buddy Line:
6 feet long, ties 2 SEALs together in the water for control and help if needed.

BUD/S:
Coronado, California, nickname for SEAL training facility for six months' course.

Bull Pup.
Still in testing; new soldier's rifle. SEALs have a dozen of them for regular use. Army gets them in 2005. Has a 5.56 kinetic round, 30-shot clip. Also 20mm high-explosive round and 5-shot magazine. Twenties can be fused for proximity airbursts with use of video camera, laser range finder, and laser targeting. Fuses by number of turns the round needs to reach laser spot. Max range: 1200 yards. Twenty round can also detonate on contact, and has delay fuse. Weapon weighs 14 pounds. SEALs love it. Can in effect “shoot around corners” with the airburst feature.

BUPERS:
BUreau of PERSonnel.

C-2A Greyhound:
2-engine turboprop cargo plane that lands on carriers. Also called COD, Carrier Onboard Delivery. Two pilots and engineer. Rear fuselage loading ramp. Cruise speed 300 mph, range 1,000 miles. Will hold 39 combat troops. Lands on CVN carriers at sea.

C-4:
Plastic explosive. A claylike explosive that can be molded and shaped. It will burn. Fairly stable.

C-6 Plastique:
Plastic explosive. Developed from C-4 and C-5. Is often used in bombs with radio detonator or digital timer.

C-9 Nightingale:
Douglas DC-9 fitted as a medical-evacuation transport plane.

C-130 Hercules:
Air Force transporter for long haul. 4 engines.

C-141 Starlifter:
Airlift transport for cargo, paratroops, evac for long distances. Top speed 566 mph. Range with payload 2,935 miles. Ceiling 41,600 feet.

Caltrops:
Small four-pointed spikes used to flatten tires. Used in the Crusades to disable horses.

Camel Back:
Used with drinking tube for 70 ounces of water attached to vest.

Cammies:
Working camouflaged wear for SEALs. Two different patterns and colors. Jungle and desert.

Cannon Fodder:
Old term for soldiers in line of fire destined to die in the grand scheme of warfare.

Capped:
Killed, shot, or otherwise snuffed.

CAR-15:
The Colt M-4Al. Sliding-stock carbine with grenade launcher under barrel. Knight sound-suppressor. Can have AN/PAQ-4 laser aiming light under the carrying handle. .223 round. 20- or 30-round magazine. Rate of fire: 700 to 1,000 rounds per minute.

Cascade Radiation:
U-235 triggers secondary radiation in other dense materials.

Castle Keep:
The main tower in any castle.

Cast Off:
Leave a dock, port, land. Get lost. Navy: long, then short signal of horn, whistle, or light.

Caving Ladder:
Roll-up ladder that can be let down to climb.

CH-46E:
Sea Knight chopper. Twin rotors, transport. Can carry 25 combat troops. Has a crew of 3. Cruise speed 154 mph. Range 420 miles.

CH-53D Sea Stallion:
Big Chopper. Not used much anymore.

Chaff:
A small cloud of thin pieces of metal, such as tinsel, that can be picked up by enemy radar and that can attract a radar-guided missile away from the plane to hit the chaff.

Charlie-Mike:
Code words for continue the mission.

Chief to Chief:
Bad conduct by EM handled by chiefs so no record shows or is passed up the chain of command.

Chocolate Mountains:
Land training center for SEALs near these mountains in the California desert.

Christians In Action:
SEAL talk for not-always-friendly CIA.

CIA:
Central Intelligence Agency.

CIC:
Combat Information Center. The place on a ship where communications and control areas are situated to open and control combat fire.

CINC:
Commander IN Chief.

CINCLANT:
Navy Commander-IN-Chief, atLANTtic.

CINCPAC:
Commander-IN-Chief, PACific.

Class of 1978:
Not a single man finished BUD/S training in this class. All-time record.

Claymore:
An antipersonnel mine carried by SEALs on many of their missions.

Cluster Bombs:
A canister bomb that explodes and spreads small bomblets over a great area. Used against parked aircraft, massed troops, and unarmored vehicles.

CNO:
Chief of Naval Operations.

CO-2 Poisoning:
During deep dives. Abort dive at once and surface.

COD:
Carrier Onboard Delivery plane.

Cold Pack Rations:
Food carried by SEALs to use if needed.

Combat Harness:
American Body Armor nylon-mesh special-operations vest. 6 2-magazine pouches for drum-fed belts, other pouches for other weapons, waterproof pouch for Motorola.

CONUS:
The Continental United States.

Corfams:
Dress shoes for SEALs.

Covert Action Staff:
A CIA group that handles all covert action by the SEALs.

CQB:
Close Quarters Battle house. Training facility near Nyland in the desert training area. Also called the Kill House.

CQB:
Close Quarters Battle. A fight that's up close, hand-to-hand, whites-of-his-eyes, blood all over you.

CRRC Bundle:
Roll it off plane, sub, boat. The assault boat for 8 SEALs. Also the IBS, Inflatable Boat Small.

Cutting Charge:
Lead-sheathed explosive. Triangular strip of high-velocity explosive sheathed in metal. Point of the triangle focuses a shaped-charge effect. Cuts a pencil-line-wide hole to slice a steel girder in half.

CVN:
A U.S. aircraft carrier with nuclear power. Largest that we have in fleet.

CYA:
Cover Your Ass, protect yourself from friendlies or officers above you and JAG people.

Damfino:
Damned if I know. SEAL talk.

DDS:
Dry Dock Shelter. A clamshell unit on subs to deliver SEALs and SDVs to a mission.

DEFCON:
DEFense CONdition. How serious is the threat?

Delta Forces:
Army special forces, much like SEALs.

Desert Cammies:
Three-color, desert tan and pale green with streaks of pink. For use on land.

DIA:
Defense Intelligence Agency.

Dilos Class Patrol Boat:
Greek, 29 feet long, 75 tons displacement.

Dirty Shirt Mess:
Officers can eat there in flying suits on board a carrier.

DNS:
Doppler Navigation System.

Draegr LAR V:
Rebreather that SEALs use. No bubbles.

DREC:
Digitally Reconnoiterable Electronic Component. Top-secret computer chip from NSA that lets it decipher any U.S. military electronic code.

E-2C Hawkeye:
Navy, carrier-based, Airborne Early Warning craft for long-range early warning and threat-assessment and fighter-direction. Has a 24-foot saucer-like rotodome over the wing. Crew 5, max speed 326 knots, ceiling 30,800 feet, radius 175 nautical miles with 4 hours on station.

E-3A Skywarrior:
Old electronic intelligence craft. Replaced by the newer ES-3A.

E-4B NEACP:
Called Kneecap. National Emergency Airborne Command Post. A greatly modified Boeing 747 used as a communications base for the President of the United States and other high-ranking officials in an emergency and in wartime.

E & E:
SEAL talk for escape and evasion.

EA-6B Prowler:
Navy plane with electronic countermeasures. Crew of 4, max speed 566 knots, ceiling 41,200 feet, range with max load 955 nautical miles.

EAR:
Enhanced Acoustic Rifle. Fires not bullets, but a high-impact blast of sound that puts the target down and unconscious for up to six hours. Leaves him with almost no aftereffects. Used as a non-lethal weapon. The sound blast will bounce around inside a building, vehicle, or ship and knock out anyone who is within range. Ten shots before the weapon must be electrically charged. Range: about 200 yards.

Easy:
The only easy day was yesterday. SEAL talk.

Ejection seat:
The seat is powered by a CAD, a shotgun-like shell that is activated when the pilot triggers the
ejection. The shell is fired into a solid rocket, sets it off and propels the whole ejection seat and pilot into the air. No electronics are involved.

ELINT:
ELectronic INTelligence. Often from satellite in orbit, picture-taker, or other electronic communications.

EMP: ElectroMagnetic Pulse:
The result of an E-bomb detonation. One type E-bomb is the Flux Compression Generator or FCG. Can be built for $400 and is relatively simple to make. Emits a rampaging electromagnetic pulse that destroys anything electronic in a 100 mile diameter circle. Blows out and fries all computers, telephone systems, TV broadcasts, radio, streetlights, and sends the area back into the stone age with no communications whatsoever. Stops all cars with electronic ignitions, drops jet planes out of the air including airliners, fighters and bombers, and stalls ships with electronic guidance and steering systems. When such a bomb is detonated the explosion is small but sounds like a giant lightning strike.

EOD:
Navy experts in nuclear material and radioactivity who do Explosive Ordnance Disposal.

Equatorial Satellite Pointing Guide:
To aim antenna for radio to pick up satellite signals.

ES-3A:
Electronic Intelligence (ELINT) intercept craft. The platform for the battle group Passive Horizon Extension System. Stays up for long patrol periods, has comprehensive set of sensors, lands and takes off from a carrier. Has 63 antennas.

ETA:
Estimated Time of Arrival.

Executive Order 12333:
By President Reagan authorizing Special Warfare units such as the SEALs.

Exfil:
Exfiltrate, to get out of an area.

F/A-18 Hornet:
Carrier-based interceptor that can change from air-to-air to air-to-ground attack mode while in flight.

Fitrep:
Fitness Report.

Flashbang Grenade:
Non-lethal grenade that gives off a series of piercing explosive sounds and a series of brilliant strobe-type lights to disable an enemy.

Flotation Bag:
To hold equipment, ammo, gear on a wet operation.

Fort Fumble:
SEALs' name for the Pentagon.

Forty-mm Rifle Grenade:
The M576 multipurpose round, contains 20 large lead balls. SEALs use on Colt M-4A1.

Four-Striper:
A Navy captain.

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