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CHAPTER FOUR

“CHIEF,” HAMMER CALLED, “can we talk to you for a minute. In private?”

Chief Doug Hampton was just coming in at 0700 to his office when four of his SEALs were waiting for him. “Let’s go inside,” he said, opening the door and gesturing toward the planning room.

Just then Gabe arrived at their HQ. He halted just inside the entrance and watched as the Chief sat down on the stool. Four SEALs stood nearby. His intuition told him something was up. Hammer lifted his head and looked over at him.

“You might as well be in on this, too,” Hammer said to Gabe. “Come and join us.”

Gabe nodded and stood near the Chief.

“What’s on your mind?” Hampton asked Hammer.

“That woman. We’ve talked between ourselves last night, and we don’t want her in our platoon.”

Hampton pursed his lips and nodded. “I see. Your reasons?”

“She’s not a SEAL,” Hammer growled, exasperated by the obvious.

“So?” Hampton murmured.

“So she’s not trained, dammit! She doesn’t know our tactics, our formations, if we get attacked. Hell, what are we supposed to do if we have to fast-rope out of a helo? She’s not trained for that. Do we have to carry her and make ourselves targets in doing so?”

Gabe dragged in a slow, deep breath. There was genuine concern on the four men’s faces. Hammer was heading up the group, but he had had similar thoughts himself. Bay wasn’t trained in many of the situations where they knew what to do, but she didn’t. And in a firefight, there wasn’t time to teach; it was a matter of survival. He kept his mouth shut as Hammer paced the room from one side to the other. Concern and frustration were etched on everyone’s face.

Hampton rubbed his hands on the thighs of his cammies. “Your points are well taken,” he said. “It’s a good argument except for one thing, Rettig.” Pierce Rettig was the enlisted SEAL’s real name and Hampton used it when things got serious.

All four SEALs had the chief’s undivided attention.

“What’s that?” Hammer demanded testily, jerking to a halt.

“We routinely have Navy photographers, videographers, CTT boys from the Air Force who call in the heavies and close air support for us, FBI dudes, linguists or cryptologists who are assigned to go out with us,” Hampton said. “They aren’t trained SEALs, either, but we need them on certain types of patrols or direct action or recon missions. You’ve never objected to any of them coming along. So why now? Why her?” He opened his hands, his voice remaining reasonable.

Hammer cursed. He glared at the other three SEALs and then jerked his gaze back to the chief. “You’re backing her because she did sniper-quality shooting yesterday afternoon.”

Hampton smiled a little and held up his hand. “Let’s stay on the point, Rettig. You’re pissed because she’s a woman and not a man. You’ve never bitched about any guy who was assigned to your platoon before this, and you’ve been out on plenty of patrols and missions with non-SEAL assets.”

“Bullshit!”

“It sure is,” Hampton said quietly, holding the SEAL’s angry glare.

“Then I want to talk to the LT about it,” Hammer growled. “I’m not done with this, Chief. And I don’t like that you’re not handling it. That’s your job.”

“I did my job, Rettig. You just don’t like my answer or my solution.” Hampton’s voice dropped. “This is bigger than you, me or the LT. This woman is highly trained in many areas, and none of us can say we don’t want her and discharge her from this squad just because of gender prejudice.”

“That’s a bunch of crap,” Hammer snarled, walking back and forth in front of the chief, his thickset shoulders bunched with tension. “I don’t care what the Pentagon cooked up.” Hammer stopped and jabbed an index finger at the door. “That woman is trouble. And I guarantee,” he grated, breathing hard, “she is gonna get one or more of us killed because she’s not a SEAL!”

Hampton straightened a little, holding the angry SEAL’s gaze. “And what if I told you, Rettig, that there have been other women in other SEAL teams before this and that hasn’t happened? That they’ve worked very effectively in those teams without causing casualties? Matter of fact, they’ve saved men’s lives. And some of the women have lost their lives, as well, but not because of ineptitude. They’re in firefights all the time right along with the men.”

Shaking his head like a bull getting ready to charge, Hammer rasped, “I don’t believe you.”

The other three SEALs eyebrows went up collectively on Hammer’s challenging grate. It was one thing to be pissed off, but you didn’t call your chief a liar to his face. The three of them exchanged uneasy glances with one another.

Doug Hampton’s face turned hard. Hammer was pushing his weight around. If he’d been LPO, he’d have taken him out back and pounded some sense into his head. But Hampton was the man in charge of the entire platoon and wielded plenty of power. The buck stopped with him. Gabe wondered how Doug was going to handle Hammer, directly challenging his authority, his face beet red.

“Rettig,” Hampton said, standing up, “it’s time you and me had a little chat outside.”

Hammer scowled, no doubt because his superior was six feet three inches tall, thirty-five years old and in top shape. He had five deployments under his belt and knew more about fighting in Afghanistan than just about anyone. Hammer turned and looked at his three friends to see if they wanted to join him. They all backed off, their hands held up, a sign that Hammer was on his own.

Wiping his mouth, Hammer growled, “And if I don’t?”

Hampton shrugged nonchalantly. “Then I’ll beat the crap out of you right here in front of them. Your call, Rettig, because you’ve outlived your welcome with me.”

“Aw, dammit, Chief!” Hammer spun around and huffed and puffed around the room. He kept giving the chief furtive looks, trying to figure out what to do. How to back down gracefully and not come to blows.

Hampton was slowly rolling up the sleeves on his cammies to just below his elbows. “Ready?”

Gabe hid a smile. Doug Hampton could be a damn intimidating and dazzling manager with a recalcitrant SEAL when he had to be. Gabe was glad he’d had four deployments with Hampton to know he was manipulating the hell out of red-faced Hammer.

“Look,” Hammer said, holding up his hand, “I’m not about to fight you, Chief.”

“Well, then,” Hampton said in his reasonable tone, “you’re just going to have to make an attitude change, Rettig.” His voice hardened as he strode up to the SEAL and got into his face. “Because,” Hampton ground out, “you’re going to work as a team. That’s what SEALs are all about. You will—” he jabbed his index finger into Hammer’s chest “—make every effort to get along with Doc. And I won’t say this again, because next time...if there is a next time...I’ll kick your ass. Got it?”

“Yes, Chief,” Hammer breathed, his voice deflated, “I got it.”

“Good,” Hampton murmured, easing away from him. He stepped back and began to slowly unroll a cuff. “I don’t know why you don’t think she can’t fast-rope.”

Hammer gave him a shocked, quizzical look.

“As a matter of fact, I think you should get to know her a bit more. Now, I agree, Doc is a very unassuming, quiet woman who wouldn’t think of bragging on herself in any way, shape or form. She acts like a SEAL. Humble. Never talks about herself or what she’s been trained to do.” Doug rolled down the other cuff. “I read her personnel file, Rettig.” Hampton lifted his chin and stared hard at the SEAL. “She learned fast-roping at Camp Pendleton. The women who went through that one-year immersion combat course learned a lot of black op methods, including kill box routines and CQD, close quarters defense training. Yeah, maybe she’s a little rusty on fast-roping, but she’s got her special gloves, she’s got the strength and I know Gabe will refresh her if that’s what your team has to do on a particular mission.”

Hammer scowled. “You’ve got to be kidding me? She can fast-rope?”

Hampton glared at the SEAL. “I wouldn’t kid you, Rettig. Doc doesn’t know our tactics and patrols, but she’s a quick study. If I were you, I’d be thrilled pink she was assigned to us. Has it been lost on you that if your sorry ass gets pumped full of lead out there, she’s the one who’s going to try and save your sorry, prejudicial ass? And she’s a linguist. Won’t it be nice that you can get her to talk to the local farmers in these villages? And that she’ll not only understand what they’re saying, but give us accurate translation? You know how bad Afghan terps are? I find it refreshing she’s here and can translate for us. Furthermore—” Hampton slowly pulled the Velcro closed around each cuff around his thick wrists “—the LT and I are jumping up and down for joy she’s been assigned to us. Right now there are no SEALs available to fill our open slot. We’re damn lucky to have gotten her or we would be operating a man short, down a sniper, and I damn well don’t want to go there. Do you?”

Hammer stood quiet and tense, disbelief written all over his face. He didn’t move. “No, Chief.”

“Well,” Hampton said, sadness in his voice, “we lost Billy three days ago. Yesterday, Doc showed us she can hit the broad side of a barn. Frankly, I’m ordering Gabe to get her up to speed on sniper tactics as fast as he can because, dammit, she can consistently hit a target. And there are no more snipers we can get our hands on anywhere in the SEAL community right now. I can’t even get a straphanger. There just aren’t enough of them graduating through SEAL sniper school. It’s a rough course and most are washed out in the process. So we are looking at her as our backup sniper. I haven’t told her that yet, but the LT wants it done pronto. She’s a gun in this fight, Rettig. And you should be damn relieved about that.”

Gabe watched Hammer’s face drain of color. The SEAL knew when he had been bested. Doug Hampton was a quiet sort, and no one ever wanted to back up on him. He was deadly when cornered, and Hammer had just discovered this fact. Keeping his face unreadable, Gabe saw Hammer snort and turn away, striding toward the door.

“I didn’t dismiss you,” Hampton said.

Hammer halted and slowly turned around. “Yes, Chief.”

“You treat Doc like you would any newbie rotating into our platoon. Got that?”

“Yes, Chief.”

“And if I have to spell that out to you again, Rettig, I’ll be writing you a one-way ticket out of this platoon. Got it?”

Mouth twisting, Hammer muttered, “Yes, Chief. I got it. May I be dismissed?”

Hampton moved his shoulders as if to rid them of tautness and nodded. “In a minute.” And then he looked at the three other SEALs standing in front of him. “Any of you have something to add to this little chat before chow time?”

All three shook their heads, suddenly nervous under the chief’s dark, assessing look.

“I want all four of you, after chow, to take all the supplies and gear out of that tent next to Gabe’s tent. Doc is going to use it.” Hampton raised a finger and added, “I expect that place to be 4.0 when you’re finished. She deserves a clean tent like anyone else coming into our platoon. Questions?”

They quickly shook their heads, more than ready to escape the chief’s riled state.

“Dismissed.”

Gabe watched the four of them quickly leave. He turned back toward Doug after the door closed. “You handled that well,” he murmured, walking up to him.

“Dammit,” Hampton growled. “I knew this was coming.”

“You think Rettig will go behind your back and bitch to the LT?” Gabe asked, sitting on the stool near the chief.

“He’d better not,” Hampton said, moving his fingers through his dark brown hair. “If he does, the LT will hand him his one-way ticket before I get a chance to do it. We can’t afford this kind of divisiveness in our ranks. No way....”

There was worry in Hampton’s gray eyes.

“Anything I can do other than what I am doing?” Gabe asked.

“No. Doc is safe with you, thank God. LT and the AOIC are thanking their lucky stars you intervened on her behalf yesterday morning.”

Gabe chuckled a little. “Hammer was ganging up on her. I don’t put up with unfair advantages.”

“Nor do I,” Hampton said, scowling. “But you handled it like the LPO you are. The LT was pleased.”

Taking the compliment, Gabe said, “I’m happy to mentor her. She’s a sharp lady.”

“Far sharper than Rettig will ever be,” Hampton said. “He’s a damn fine SEAL, but he’s too territorial. That’s going to get him in deep trouble someday, and it damn well isn’t going to happen on my watch.”

“He’s a handful at times,” Gabe agreed, “but out on patrol, I wouldn’t want anyone but him around. You saw how well he shot yesterday. He’s sniper trained and he’s a damn good shot. We need every gun we can get in those fights.”

Sighing, Hampton patted Gabe’s shoulder. “I know. He’s a good SEAL, just misguided with his prejudices sometimes. If I hadn’t landed on him with both feet, he’d have taken control of the situation.”

“So, you’re going to unload our supply tent for Doc?” Gabe asked, wanting to get off the subject.

“Yeah, I talked with LT about it last night. They are very impressed with her, Gabe. Frankly, so am I.”

Gabe laughed again. “You three looked like an act of God had just taken place out there on that shooting range yesterday. Like a female Moses just arrived in a chariot in time to save your sorry asses.”

Hampton had the good grace to look sheepish. “Who knew? In her records, she shot expert at Pendleton in all weapons—pistol, rifle and M-4 grenade launcher. None of us realized how good she was, though. It blew us away.”

“Me, too,” Gabe admitted. “I don’t think Doc knows how talented she really is as a combat soldier.”

“Yeah, she’s really unassuming, isn’t she? A quiet mouse.”

Shrugging, Gabe said, “Well, at least she’s not like ego-busting Hammer.”

“You’re right,” Hampton said, settling his hands on his narrow hips. “We should be grateful for that. The LT has a call into the Special Forces captain she worked with over in Iraq. We want more dope on her. And once we know, I’ll pass it on to you. I think she’s very skilled in a lot of areas we’d never expected her to be. I’d like to know the breadth and depth of her combat experience.”

“Maybe Doc is just like the other women in that top-secret op, but we’ve just never had the knowledge to know how they are trained. They could all be like Doc.”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. She graduated top five in her class of forty women. They’re a bunch of Amazons.” He grinned. “Don’t tell Doc I said that. I don’t want to get in hock with General Maya Stevenson. She’s an Army general heading up Operation Shadow Warriors. She has a reputation of getting into your face so damn fast you won’t live to tell about it.”

“Not a word I’d use around Doc.”

Hampton grinned. “We really don’t know what Doc is made of yet, and we need to find out. The Pentagon is expecting weekly reports on her.” He clapped his hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Since you’re her mentor, you’ll be writing up a weekly report and sending it on to me. Once I read it and make comments or whatever, I pass it up the chain of command to LT. From there, it goes into a black hole in the E-ring of the Pentagon.”

Groaning, Gabe shook his head. “I don’t mind mentoring, Doug, but damn, a weekly report? Can’t you cut me some slack?”

Hampton smiled evenly. “No can do. It’s all yours, thank God. But I am going to invite myself along every once in a while on the next few missions to make sure Hammer and those other three fall into line. I won’t have him splitting the team.”

“I don’t know what Hammer will do,” Gabe said. “One thing for sure, if he tries anything stupid out there with her, he’ll answer to me. And I won’t be nice and invite him outside to beat the hell out of him. I’ll take him on the instant it happens.”

Raising one eyebrow, Hampton nodded. “Good. She’s to be treated like any newbie. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t care if they razz or tease her, but anything beyond that—”

“I have her six, Doug. Don’t worry about it.” Six was a term used by the military when an enemy plane flew up behind an American pilot’s plane and was getting ready to shoot it down. It meant Gabe would protect Bay, should it come down to that.

Hampton gripped his shoulder. “You’re in the breech, but I wouldn’t have any other SEAL in that sorry position. Can you go help the guys get that tent fixed up for her today?”

Gabe eased off the stool, his M-4 in a sling across his chest. “No problem.”

“You going to sit her down and show her patrol tactics and formations?”

“First thing on my list,” Gabe promised. “After evening chow.”

As Gabe stepped outside in the heat of the afternoon, he waffled. Should he go find Doc? Invite her to the chow hall? Part of him wanted to, but another part didn’t. Still, he was her mentor and that had him walking down the dusty street between the many tents to go find her. Even after his conversation with the chief, Gabe felt nagging worry about the confrontation with Hammer. He sincerely hoped the SEAL would fall into line. Doc didn’t deserve his misguided prejudice.

So far, Doc had shown all of them she could shoot. That, in and of itself, was a phenomenal shock. A good one, and Gabe grinned to himself, chuckling over yesterday’s competition. Hill people might appear to be plain and unassuming, but Gabe had learned early on they were smart and possessed backwoods common sense that would dazzle everyone.

Breaking Point

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