Battleground (34 page)

“Promise. You like that lady, don’t you?”

“A little.”

She pinched him. He pretended he didn’t feel it. She settled back with her head on his chest.

“Two-week leave, right?”

“True. Your spies do good work.”

“Nope, just a guess.” She turned and faced him. Her clear eyes stared into his. “Have you thought about what we talked about the last time? About maybe moving into some other area of Navy work?”

“Thought about it. You know we lost one man this tour. I’ve been with Red for over two years. A good man. Blown away by a damn trip wire on a hand grenade.”

Ardith shivered. He held her tightly.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No, that’s why we need to talk, but we have time. We have most of two weeks left. I told Dad to expect me when he sees me come in the door.”

She kept watching him. “I so desperately hope… I so hope…” He kissed her and she whimpered, and kissed him back.

He held her gently. “How about a week here in the lap of unmitigated luxury, making love all night and sleeping until noon. After a week of that, we’ll decide on the mountains or the sandy beaches of Florida.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Right now I want to be the only platoon you’re concerned about.”

Wednesday, August 20

1014 hours

Ardith Manchester’s apartment

Washington, D.C.

Murdock woke from a dreamless, relaxing sleep to the chimes-type ring of Ardith’s phone. Usually such a soft ringing wouldn’t wake him. Ardith reached a bare arm across him and picked up the instrument.

“Yes?”

She paused and frowned. “Who?” She scowled. “Why would you think that?” Ardith listened a moment, then silently handed him the instrument.

“Yes?”

“Murdock. You’re a hard man to find.”

He recognized the sound of Don Stroh’s voice. “How did you?”

“Hey, I have friends in high places too. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to alert you. There is something nasty building out there. No cause for action just yet. But we’re keeping our eyes on it. Some of the satellite stuff is on the scary side.
Didn’t mean to spoil your leave. It’s only half over. So enjoy.”

“Stroh.”

“Yeah, Murdock?”

“Why don’t you…”

“What, Blake?”

“Never mind. When we have more secure communications, I want you to keep me up to date with briefings. Right?”

“You got it, tiger. I’ll call you in a week. We’re worried about something that’s brewing. Nothing immediate. Two, three months off. Probably. I’ll stay in touch.”

“Oh, I bet you will. You sound worried.”

“Could get terribly nasty. But not for a while. Have fun.”

“Yeah, Stroh. You have fun too.”

They hung up.

“How in the world did he find you… here?” she asked.

Murdock grinned. “Hey, lady. He’s with the CIA. You think you have contacts? He probably knows what kind of wine we had last night with that amazing Indonesian dinner we had sent in.”

“Oh.”

She pushed over her bare body against his and purred. “Just so he doesn’t have a camera in my bedroom.” She yelped and sat up suddenly and looked around.

Murdock laughed and pulled her down beside him.

So, something big was brewing. Two months off at least. That would give him just about enough time to get two or four new men integrated and working smoothly with the platoon, get the new weapons tested and see if he wanted to order half a dozen, and go through some rigorous field training again with the whole platoon. Yeah, sounded about right.

“Blake Murdock, where in the world are you right now?”

He grinned, slid under the covers, and attacked her gently with her complete approval.