Seal Team Seven #19: Field of Fire (22 page)

“Sutures, that’s just a fancy name for thread you stitch with, right?”

“Yes, but I don’t have a needle to use.” Her face brightened. “Hey, didn’t we bring a sewing kit with us?”

Two hours later it was dark. The only lights on board the
Inspiration
were candles and some Coleman gas lanterns. Four candles glowed in the second stateroom, where Louise lay on top of the sheets. Her eyes had fallen shut but she was not sleeping.

Millicent waved her husband out of the room. “She’s worse. There’s a mild fever now, maybe one-oh-one or two. But the major pain still is near the belly button. That’s good. I found the thread and a curved fabric needle I can use if I have to go in.”

“Go in?” her husband asked. “You’re starting to sound like a doctor again.”

She flashed him a smile and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thanks, sweetheart. I just hope that I don’t have to play doctor. Let me check Louise again.”

The vice president waited in the passageway as Millicent went in the stateroom. She was back in two minutes, her face troubled by a frown.

“She’s worse. The pain is moving to the lower quadrant. If it continues this way, she’ll have to be operated on before morning.”

Haifa, Israel

JG Gardner shook his head. “It’s almost dark and they haven’t found that yacht yet? I don’t believe this. We have the best recon operations in the world with the Hawkeye. Why can’t they find one luxury liner?”

“Big bunch of water.” Jaybird said.

Murdock watched the men. They were antsy, getting nervous just sitting and waiting. He looked at Stroh. “Shouldn’t we at least be on the
Shiloh
where we can jump on a sixty if and when they find the yacht?”

Stroh had brought back his SATCOM and had the antenna set. He called the cruiser where the search had been centered.

Captain Caruthers on the cruiser bumped them on up to the admiral on the carrier. “The
Stennis
has taken over control of the search,” he said. “Better give him a call.”

Twenty minutes later the SEALs trooped on board the SH-60 helicopter, squeezed in with their gear, and took off for the
Shiloh.

“At least we’ll be closer to any action that goes down,” Murdock said. They left Stroh in Haifa on his SATCOM updating Washington, D.C.

When the SEALs landed on the cruiser, Captain Caruthers met them. “Just got off the air with Admiral Warnick on the
Stennis.
He says they have identified all but eight of the large vessels they have spotted with the Hawkeye. F-14s are still in the process of trying to find the others. It should be easier now, since the yacht we want won’t have any lights on board, with the exception
of some candles, gas lanterns, and gas lamps. Of course that also will make it harder to find them in the dark. We keep hoping.”

“What about the Syrian patrol boats that were heading out into the area?” Murdock asked. He moved his left arm backward and the pain drilled through him like a firebrand. He had to remember to keep it forward.

“We found them and a dozen rounds of twenty-millimeter cannon fire across their bows, turned them back toward shore. The fourteens followed them until they docked. So they aren’t a worry anymore.”

“Now all we have to do is find the blacked-out yacht in the middle of the Mediterranean on a night with damned near no moon,” Murdock said.

“About the size of it,” Captain Caruthers said. “Let’s get some coffee and stand by the radio.”

High over the Mediterranean, Lieutenant Marsh “Low-blow” Arlington finished a negative report on the third large ship he had checked out from coordinates provided by the Hawkeye. Now he logged in the numbers for the fourth try. He had no idea how far from the carrier he was. All he was interested in was finding that ship with the nation’s vice president on board.

He flew the bird toward the next hot spot that the radar had shown on the surface and waited. He had dropped down to a thousand feet so he would be able to identify any ship he came toward. The last one had been a luxury yacht, maybe a hundred feet long, but it had about a thousand light bulbs on it, all burning brightly. He needed a yacht shrouded in darkness.

Now he watched the screens as he approached the position. From a half mile off he could see the lights. Another bummer. He hit his mike.

“Hunter Home, this is Hunt Four. I have my fifth vessel and it is brightly lighted. Looks about the right size. You want me to buzz it and try for a name on the bow?”

“Negative, Hunt Four. No chance our target yacht could have any lights. Proceed to next suspect.”

“Roger that.”

He punched in the new coordinates relayed from the
Hawkeye. Three fourteens were searching out these blips being shown on the radar screens high overhead. Lieutenant Arlington hoped that one of them would strike gold pretty soon. Without any electricity, the yacht would have no refrigeration. Food might be a problem. If a storm came up, a craft that size with no power and no steering could be in serious trouble. He flew on to the next ship.

On the
Shiloh
Murdock took the handset from the radio operator and pushed the send button. “Yes, sir, Admiral Warnick. This is Lieutenant Commander Blake Murdock.”

“Murdock, yes. I have some orders from the CNO about you. We’re still fifty miles from Haifa and about twenty off the landfall. If one of our fourteens finds this yacht, you’re going to be closer to it than we will if it is drifting south. We’ll send out our S and R chopper as soon as we have a definite location, but you’ll be there first. Do what you can for the people and assure them we’re on our way. We’ll have the
Shiloh
tow the yacht since it’s really dead on all its electronics. That’s about it. If all sixteen of you can’t get in the bird, take your best men. We’ll get to the spot as quickly as possible.”

“Will do, Admiral. We’re waiting for a call from the fourteens.”

They monitored the channel the F-14s used to talk to the carrier. Three of them made a total of five more contacts before they had good news.

“Hunter Home, this is Hunter Four. I might have our target. She’s on the coordinates, almost blacked out except for some pinpoints of light that could be candles or lanterns. I’ll buzz them to let them know I’m here and see if I get any reaction.”

“Right, Four.”

A short time later the radio came on again. “Yes, Hunter Home. This must be the ship. I’m getting an SOS from a light source that could be a big flashlight. They definitely are blacked out, not moving and signaling for help.”

“Roger, Hunter Four. Those coordinates put you about sixty miles from shore and some thirty miles south of
Haifa. Will send a SH-60 to the spot. Fly CAP on the spot until you see the chopper arrive.
Shiloh
, are you reading this?”

“Yes, Hunter Home. Reading. We have one sixty warmed up now. It will be airborne in seven with the SEALs.”

“Roger,
Shiloh.
We’re launching S and R now, but we’re about a hundred miles from the ship.”

“Roger, Hunter Home. Standing by on this frequency.”

“Move it,” Murdock shouted at the SEALs in their compartment. “We’re taking a ride. Up to the chopper pad on the double. No combat vests but bring your weapons. Bradford, be sure you have the SATCOM. Move now.”

It was eight minutes before the SH-60 lifted off the cruiser’s deck and raced away to the south.

“We should have to go about fifty miles to find them,” Jaybird said. “At a hundred and forty-five miles per hour in this bird, we should be there in twenty minutes.” Murdock had planned ahead and stashed on board the chopper two inch-thick ropes fifty feet long. He tied one securely to each of the door posts.

“Everyone has his gloves? We’ll rope down. Just don’t burn your hands up. Mahanani, be sure you take your med kit. They might have some injuries down there.”

“We going to find any dead bodies?” Wade Claymore asked.

“Doubt it,” Murdock yelled over the noise of the chopper. “Maybe food poisoning or a broken leg if the ship got pushed around by the waves. Having no power and no steering on a ship that size is a scary thing at sea.”

“Everyone has a big flashlight,” Gardner said. “We’re going to need them down there. Remember, these are civilians, and some important ones.”

Murdock went to the cockpit and watched as the pilot zeroed in on his target and circled.

“Looks like it,” the pilot said.

Murdock looked down and saw an SOS from a flash-light.

“Got to be it. Come in on the fantail where we can rope down. You’ve done this before?”

“Aye, Commander. I get where you want me and hold her rock steady while you drop down. No problem, there isn’t a breath of wind out there tonight.”

Murdock went back to the door and waited as the chopper came in from the stern and crept slowly over it about forty feet above the deck. The pilot hovered the sixty and held it. Murdock pushed out one coil of rope and the JG the other one.

“Let’s do it,” Murdock said. He went down first on his side and Jaybird first on the other side. Murdock slid down the rope, careful not to go too fast. He kept his left arm low and with the rope under his arm to help slow him. The pressure on the shot-up shoulder hit him like a sledgehammer. He gasped and held on tighter with his right hand but wasn’t ready when his feet hit the deck. He skidded, then gained his balance. He kept his left arm at his side as he hurried toward the steps leading down to the cabin. A man stood there with a flashlight.

“Hold it. Secret Service here. Who the hell are you?”

“U.S. Navy SEALs,” Murdock said. “You’ve been waiting for us.

Another man came up behind the first one. “It’s all right, Hank. They are friendlies. SEALs, good to see you. We’ve got a problem, a sick woman. She has appendicitis.”

“How bad?”

“Getting worse. My wife is a nurse. Oh, I’m Art Milrose.”

“Good to meet you Mr. Vice President.” Murdock turned. “Mahanani, this way now,” he yelled. The corps-man came running up from where he had just left the rope.

“Somebody down?” he asked.

Two minutes later, Jack Mahanani shone his flashlight on Louise. She watched him with wary eyes. There were six candles burning in the cabin and two mantel-type gas lamps. The fever had come back, stronger this time, and Louise said she hurt all over.

A tall woman beside the bed held out her hand to Mahanani. “I’m Millicent Milrose and I’m a nurse. Louise is in an advanced stage of appendicitis. She has a fever, the
pain has moved to the lower quadrant and is continuous and often severe. She’s been coughing and sneezing, which aggravates it. There is rebound tenderness over the appendix.”

Mahanani motioned out of the room and Millicent went with him. In the hallway, Mahanani shook his head. “I’m not a doctor, but it sounds like she’s starting to go into peritonitis.”

“It’s been getting worse. Can’t we get a doctor here?”

“We can call for one from the carrier, but it would take at least an hour and a half.”

Millicent bit her lower lip and her face went hard. “Call them. Get a doctor here as quickly as possible. But you and I have to operate. If we don’t cut out that appendix within a half hour, Louise will die. I’ll help you.”

“Operate? I’m just a corpsman.”

“And I’m just a nurse. I’ve seen it done a hundred times. Let’s get washed up and try to set up a sterile field. We have some sterile bandages, sponges, and knives. What else do we need?”

“A doctor,” Mahanani said. Millicent grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the room.

“Everyone out,” she said. “Arthur, bring those materials we got ready. This fine young man and I are going to operate. What’s your name?”

“Jack”

“Fine, Jack. You have any chloroform in your med kit?”

“No.”

“What about morphine?”

“Yes, ampoules.”

“Good. Ten milligrams?”

“Not sure, tens I think. The kind I always use. We can use one ten without slowing her breathing too much. Correct?”

“Yes, a ten should be fine. That won’t stop the pain but it will help.”

The vice president came into the room with the band-ages, sterile pads, and a sheet with a hole cut in it. He put the sterile goods down on the sheet.

“The sheet was baked in the oven with the other band-ages and pads, so it should be fairly sterile,” he said.

Murdock had gone back to the deck and used the SATCOM to call the carrier. He told them the situation and asked for a doctor to be rushed to the site.

“She’s too ill to be hoisted into a chopper. The doctor will have to come here. Peritonitis is a real danger.” They said a doctor would be inbound within ten minutes. No estimated time of arrival.

Back in the stateroom, the two got ready to operate. Mahanani put the shot of morphine into the woman’s arm, and watched her. Her eyes fluttered but she stayed awake.

Millicent’s mouth was a hard line. Her eyes were steady but cold now and angry that this had happened to Louise. She whispered to Mahanani. “When we start, the pain is going to be severe, and it probably will make her pass out. Which will be good. Then we can work quickly.”

“You going to cut?” Mahanani asked.

“Never have.”

“Me too.” Mahanani sighed. “I better do it. Those knives look sharp. Use a pen and mark where I should cut.”

They had pulled up Louise’s nightgown and spread the sheet again so the opening was on her lower belly. Millicent looked at the area and used the antiseptic to bathe the whole belly twice. Next she made a two-inch line on the tender flesh. She looked at the hospital corpsman.

“Cut just through the skin first, so we can see where we are. There will be a layer of fatty tissue just under the skin. You’ll cut through that next. Then I’ll push that aside and separate the muscles in there until I get into the cavity and find the appendix. I’ve seen it done dozens of times. It takes a doctor about five minutes to do the whole job.”

Mahanani looked at the patient’s face. Her eyes flickered then closed.

“She might pass out,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

They both had washed their hands in hot water from the kitchen and now bent over the bed. Mahanani took a deep breath and used the sharpest knife. He made a delicate
cut on the woman’s belly. It didn’t go through her skin.