CARRIER 10: ARSENAL By: Keith Douglass

fair damsel again, is he? Well, you just head back and tell the

admiral that I think I can take care of myself. I got in here on my

own, I can get out. Now go away. You’re interrupting my beauty

sleep.” She lay down again and turned her back to him, pulling the

sheets up around her neck.

Sikes sighed. This mission was becoming more of a pain in the ass

every second. “Ma’am, I don’t think I can let you do that,” he said

gently. “There’s some things you need to know.”

“Are you going to make me leave by force?” she asked, still not

turning to face him.

“There’s a strike inbound on the base. We don’t recommend you stick

around for it.”

“I already survived one.”

“You won’t survive two.” Sikes made his voice deadly certain. “Not

from our weapons they’re as accurate as you report them to be. If they

hit what they’re supposed to, this area’s going to be lousy with

nuclear debris.”

“We’re shooting a nuclear weapon?”

He saw her go stiff under the sheet. “Not us. Conventional munitions

only. But what’s stored in those weapons is dirty weapons, ma’am, real

dirty. Some nukes, maybe some biological. Certainly some chemical

ones. And they’re all capable of reaching the United States. You want

to come back when it’s all over, hell, I’ll help you talk them into

it.

But for now, I think you’re going to want to be out of here when it

goes down. At least long enough to find out what’s in those boxes.”

“You saw my report?”

The question surprised him, but not for long. He forced himself to

sound calm. “It was used for an intelligence briefing, ma’am. I

figure,” he said, an idea suddenly occurring to him, “that that’s what

you intended. That wasn’t a mistake, was it? Getting all that in the

background?”

Finally, she rolled over to look at him. The smile creeping across her

face lit it up like a child’s at Christmas. “You noticed that, did

you?” There was no mistaking the self satisfaction in her voice.

He nodded. “We all did. It takes a pro to keep their wits about ’em

during something like that. That information will help save lives,

ma’am.” And so this is the way you skin this particular cat, he

thought, wondering if he’d find his Psychology 101 classes more useful

in this mission than any swimming skills.

“Dirty weapons?” she quizzed. “Could we” He shook his head again.

“No, ma’am, the only thing we can do now is leave. There are a lot of

people putting a lot on the line to afford you this opportunity, so I

suggest you take it. You’ve done your part for the war, now let us do

ours.” He stood and held out a hand to her, suddenly uncertain as to

exactly what she was wearing beneath the sheet, and wondering whether

the SEAL team was really ready to transport a naked female out of the

compound undetected.

She flipped her sheet back, and he was relieved to see her in a dark

T-shirt and a set of sweats. A pair of blue and white fluorescent

running shoes were peeking out from under the bed. She slipped them on

quickly.

“Did you mean that? About getting me back in?” she asked as she tied

her right shoe. She looked up at him, a winsome smile lighting her

face. “I’d really like that if you did.”

“I’ll try, if the debris isn’t too deadly. Best we get back to the

shop and let them make that determination before you go back in,

though. You’ve reported from some dangerous places, but I don’t want

one of them to be a plague quarantine hospital.”

She looked slightly paler, but still determined. “We’ll see,” she said

enigmatically, standing next to him.

Pamela grabbed her equipment bag and followed them to the door. She

paused at the threshold, glancing around suspiciously. Sikes motioned

to her impatiently. “Come on we know what we’re doing.”

She stepped across the threshold and stopped again.

“What about the pilot?”

The air between the SEAL team members crackled with tension. Was it

possible? Of course it was they should have suspected it, planned for

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