Without remorse - Tom Clancy [201]
'Give me a timeline on getting mission approval,' Greer said. It was serious now. He'd always thought the operation had merit, and watching it develop had been a lesson in many things that he'd need to know at CIA. Now he believed it possible. boxwood green might well succeed if allowed to go.
'You're sure Mr Ritter won't waffle on us?'
'I don't think he will. He's one of us, really.'
'Not until all the pieces are in place,' Podulski said.
'He'll want to see a rehearsal,' Greer warned. 'Before you ask a guy to stick it on the line, he has to have confidence in the job.'
'That's fair. We have a full-up live-fire rehearsal tomorrow night.'
'We'll be there, Dutch,' Greer promised.
The team was in an old barracks designed for at least sixty men, and there was plenty of room for everyone, enough that no one had a top bunk. Kelly had a private room set aside, one of those designed into the standard barracks for squad sergeants to sleep in. He'd decided not to live on his boat. One could not be part of the team and yet be totally separate from it.
They were enjoying their first night off since arriving at Quantico, and some kind soul had arranged for three cases of beer. That made for exactly three bottles each, since one of their number only drank Dr Pepper, and Master Gunnery Sergeant Irvin made sure that none of their number exceeded the limit.
'Mr Clark,' one of the grenadiers asked, 'what's this all about?'
It wasn't fair, Kelly thought, to make them train without letting them know. They prepared for danger without knowing why, without knowing what purpose occasioned the risk of their lives and their future. It wasn't fair at all, but it wasn't unusual either. He looked straight in the man's eyes.
'I can't tell you, Corp. All I can say is, it's something you'll be mighty proud of. You have my word on that, Marine.'
The corporal, at twenty-one the youngest and most junior man of the group, hadn't expected an answer, but he'd had to ask. He accepted the reply with a raise-can salute.
'I know that tattoo,' a more senior man said.
Kelly smiled, finishing his second. 'Oh, I got drunk one night, and I guess I got mistook for somebody else.'
'All SEALs are good for is balancing a ball on their nose,' a buck Sergeant said, following it with a belch.
'Want me to demonstrate with one of yours?' Kelly asked quickly.
'Good one!' The sergeant tossed Kelly another beer.
'Mr Clark?' Irvin gestured to the door. It was just as sticky-hot out there as inside, with a gentle breeze coming through the long-needled pines and the flapping of bats, invisibly chasing insects.
'What is it?' Kelly asked, taking a long pull.
That's my question, Mr Clark, sir,' Irvin said lightly. Then his voice changed. 'I know you.'
'Oh?'
'Third Special Operations Group. My team backed you guys up on ermine coat. You've come far for an E-6,' Irvin observed.
'Don't spread it around, but I made chief before I left. Does anybody else know?'
Irvin chuckled. 'No, I expect Captain Albie would sure as hell get his nose outa joint if he found out, and General Young might have a conniption. We'll just keep it 'tween us, Mr Clark,' Irvin said, establishing his position in oblique but uncertain terms.
'This wasn't my idea - being here, I mean. Admirals are easy to impress, I suppose.'
'I'm not, Mr Clark. You almost gave me a fucking heart attack with that rubber knife of yours. I don't remember your name, your real one, I mean, but you're the guy they called Snake, aren't you? You're the guy did plastic flower.'
'That wasn't the smartest thing I ever did,' Kelly pointed out.
'We were your backup on that, too. The goddamned chopper died - engine quit ten feet off the ground - thump. That's why we didn't make it. Nearest alternate was from First Cav. That's why it took so long.'
Kelly turned, Irvin's face was as black as the night. 'I didn't know.'
The master gunnery sergeant shrugged in the darkness. 'I seen the pictures of what happened. The skipper told us that you were a fool to break the rules like that. But that was our fault. We should