Clear and present danger - Tom Clancy [166]
In Panama, all of the infantrymen were still asleep. They'd be allowed to stand down for a full day, and sleep in air-conditioned comfort - under heavy blankets - after hot showers and meals which, if not especially tasty, were at least different from the MREs they'd had for the preceding week. The four officers, however, were awakened early and taken elsewhere for a new briefing. Operation SHOWBOAT, they learned, had taken a very serious turn. They also learned why, and the source of their new orders was as exhilarating as it was troubling.
The new S-3, operations officer, for the 3rd Battalion of the 17th Infantry, which formed part of the First Brigade, 7th Infantry Division (Light), checked out his office while his wife struggled with the movers. Already sitting on his desk was a Mark-2 Kevlar helmet, called a Fritz for its resemblance to the headgear of the old German Wehrmacht. For the 7th LID, the camouflage cloth cover was further decorated with knotted shreds of the same material used for their battle-dress uniform fatigues. Most of the wives referred to it as the Cabbage Patch Hat, and like a cabbage, it broke up the regular outline of the helmet, making it harder to spot. The battalion commander was off at a briefing, along with the XO, and the new S-3 decided to meet with the S-l, or personnel officer. It turned out that they'd served together in Germany five years before, and they caught up on personal histories over coffee.
"So how was Panama?"
"Hot, miserable, and I don't need to fill you in on the political side. Funny thing - just before I left I ran into one of your Ninjas."
"Oh, yeah? Which one?"
"Chavez. Staff sergeant, I think. Bastard wasted me on an exercise."
"I remember him. He was a good one with, uh… Sergeant Bascomb?"
"Yes, Major?" A head appeared at the office door.
"Staff Sergeant Chavez - who was he with?"
"Bravo Company, sir. Lieutenant Jackson's platoon… second squad, I think. Yeah, Corporal Ozkanian took it over. Chavez transferred out to Fort Benning, he's a basic-training instructor now," Sergeant Bascomb remembered.
"You sure about that?" the new S-3 asked.
"Yes, sir. The paperwork got a little ruffled. He's one of the guys who had to check out in a hurry. Remember, Major?"
"Oh, yeah. That was a cluster-fuck, wasn't it?"
"Roge-o, Major," the NCO agreed.
"What the hell was he doing running an FTX in the Canal Zone?" the operations officer wondered.
"Lieutenant Jackson might know, sir," Bascomb offered.
"You'll meet him tomorrow," the S-l told the new S-3.
"Any good?"
"For a new kid fresh from the Hudson, yeah, he's doing just fine. Good family. Preacher's kid, got a brother flies fighter planes for the Navy - squadron commander, I think. Bumped into him at Monterey awhile back. Anyway, Tim's got a good platoon sergeant to teach him the ropes."
"Well, that was one pretty good sergeant, that Chavez kid. I'm not used to having people sneak up on me!" The S-3 fingered the scab on his face. "Damn if he didn't, though."
"We got a bunch of good ones, Ed. You're gonna like it here. How 'bout lunch?"
"Sounds good to me. When do we start PT in the morning?"
"Zero-six-fifteen. The boss likes to run."
The new S-3 grunted on his way out the door. Welcome back to the real Army.
"Looks like our friends down there are a little pissed," Admiral Cutter observed. He held a telex form that had emanated from the CAPER side of the overall operation. "Who was it came up with the idea of tapping into their communications?"
"Mr. Clark," the DDO replied.
"The same one who -"
"The same."
"What can you tell me about him?"