CARRIER 2: VIPER STRIKE By Keith Douglass

feeling of importance to be there, even if he didn’t know exactly what

was going on. He’d met Paterowski in Ops, and was finding himself drawn

into the radarman’s circle of friends.

“I hear Bangkok’s plenty hot,” Seaman Ernesto Rodriguez said. He also

worked in Ops, where he was striking for Radarman. He shook his head,

and his teeth flashed brilliantly against his dark face. “Ai-ai-ai!”

“Shit, man,” Bentley said, grinning. He was in his favorite element

now, telling tales of past exploits. “These ain’t your average T-town

putas, Ernie! In Bangkok, you can get anything, and I mean anything! I

remember me and a coupla buddies going to this place in Patpong. That’s

Bangkok’s Sin Central, kiddies. Aw, shit!” He rolled the word,

savoring it. “You shoulda seen this place! Red curtains, glass beads.

They had this specialty, see, where six girls take you into this room,

see? And they all strip down, you know, an’ then they strip you down

and lay you out on this table. And, I swear to God, they gather around

and start licking you, all over … toes, fingers, everywhere!”

The circle exploded in a chorus of hoots, groans, and table-pounding.

Paterowski held his white hat in his lap and vigorously pumped his fist

underneath, pretending to masturbate.

“An’ after about a year of this, one of the girls climbs up and kind of

lowers herself down on top of you, see, real nice and easy? And while

the rest of them keep with the licking and sucking she …”

Howard looked away, feeling his face burn with embarrassment …

embarrassed all the more by the fact that he was embarrassed. He had

seen exactly one liberty port during Jefferson’s deployment–Yokosuka,

“Yokuska” as the others insisted on calling it–for the two weeks the

carrier had anchored there after Wonsan. During that time, he’d managed

two trips into Tokyo.

He’d seen the Imperial Palace from the jogging path outside the private

grounds, the Outer Garden with its giant fountain, and a hodgepodge

collection of shrines, government buildings, and department stores that

were now completely jumbled in his mind. He’d not been sure that he’d

seen Tokyo at all, and the stories traded by his shipmates when they’d

left port increased his doubts.

“How ’bout it, Howie?”

“Huh?” Howard blinked, feeling foolish. “Sorry. What’d you say?”

“Reveille, son!” Paterowski said. “Wake up! Your betters are trying

to instruct you in the finer points of life here, but you ain’t tuned

in!”

“You know what Howie needs?” Rodriguez said. “We oughta treat him to a

night in the Patpong!”

“Yeah, man! He can dip his dong in the ol’ Patpong!”

“Whatcha say, cherry?” Bentley demanded. “Wanna lose your cherry?”

“I … I don’t know, guys. I mean, I’ll have to think about-”

“Hey, why think, man, when you could be getting’ your clock cleaned?”

Rodriguez laughed. “Holy shit, man! Bang-fuckin’-cock! What a

break!”

Howard felt a small, secret thrill. It would be okay, wouldn’t it? If

the other guys made him go along? He didn’t want them to think he

didn’t like them or anything, or that he thought he was better than

them.

He didn’t know if he was looking forward to liberty in Bangkok or not.

He was already feeling both embarrassed and guilty … but this might be

the chance to find out what there was to feel guilty about. A kind of

initiation into the mysterious inner circle of the Experienced Sailor.

Bangkok might be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Just so long as Charlene, his girlfriend back home in Colorado, never

found out.

CHAPTER 5

1200 hours, 15 January

Bangkok, Thailand

The convoy of black government limousines had been waiting for them when

Jefferson’s launch pulled up to Sattahip’s docks. The drive up the

coast to Bangkok took almost ninety minutes, most of it in the express

lane of the four-lane highway designated Route 3.

Several army trucks and armed jeeps accompanied the convoy, but the

escort was more for show than for defense. They’d passed a small

demonstration gathered outside Sattahip’s north gate, twenty or thirty

unhappy-looking locals holding up banners and placards and chanting

something in That. One sign in English declared “Yankee Imperialists

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