“See any movement?”
“No, sir.”
“Roger, we’ll do another circle. Petty Officer Mike, you want some target practice?”
“Yes, sir!” the GAU-21 gunner crowed.
Todd reversed his turn to the left and answered, “OK, your target is the floating boat hulk. Mark, you’ve got the aircraft. Have a Tally?”
“I’ve got the aircraft. Tallyho.” Mark replied, taking the controls and keeping the turn in.
Todd kept control of the tactical situation. “Your target is nine o’clock coming to ten. Let’s stay off about 500 meters, Mark. Petty Officer Mike, call Tally.”
“Tally,” the gunner answered.
“Roger, open fire.”
A tongue of flame leapt from the 50 caliber barrel with a deafening chainsaw sound and cordite smell that filled the cabin. Splashes bloomed next to the hulk as the heavy rounds punched big holes in the fiberglass hull. The gunner fired several bursts, tearing the floating bow to pieces before it slipped below the waves.
Todd was back on the MIDS display as he keyed the mike to transmit to the E-2. “Tango Lima, Delta Charlie is splash-one complete. Standing by for steering to track one-one-eight-two.”
The E-2 rogered the transmission and sent Todd steering directions to his next assigned target, the trawler 40 miles south. He would need the three remaining Hellfires to sink this larger and heavier vessel, with the GAU and M240 to complete the job.
The Sierra accelerated as it turned southeast. It left behind floating pieces of fiberglass — and slicks of blood.
(Breezy Cay Resort)
Stretched out on a lounge chair with his eyes shielded by his Wayfarer shades, Trench surveyed the scene at the resort pool. The college girls he had slept with last night were not out yet, and he wondered what he should do when they showed up. Play it cool and chivalrously buy them a drink at the cabana? Hug them as friends and spend some time before making an excuse to leave? Which one to hug first? Hug, hell, he was in bed with them six hours ago! Two of them — a first, even for Trench.
Coach, lounging next to him, could have had the redhead, but he had bagged out. Fine, head on back, loser. And now Coach wanted the details. As Trench relived the night, many of them were fuzzy — and he couldn’t remember much anyway. He remembered the girls were completely blotto and literally bounced off the walls in silly hysterics in the early evening, but were mercifully still passed out when he slipped out in the morning. After the ouzo shots, however, he wasn’t sure about all that had happened—Did I do it with