Seal Team Seven #20: Attack Mode Read Online Free Page A

Seal Team Seven #20: Attack Mode
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platoon mission. Murdock had had word this week that a second one should arrive in Coronado within a day or two. Good enough reason for a hard workout on the rig to be sure they could handle it if the need arose.
    Murdock watched the Turtle head for shore, then he turned to Bravo Squad. “JG, take your squad down to the Kill House. Put everyone through twice, then come back for your turn on the Turtle. I want scores recorded and brought to me.”
    “Aye, aye, Commander, we’re moving.” JG “Chris” Gardner made two hand signals and his squad fell in aline of ducks. He led them at a six-minutes-to-the-mile-pace run a quarter of a mile down the beach, toward the navy radio antennas. The Kill House had been dug into the sand at the far end of the strand. Most of it was underground, with bullet-absorbing walls and overheads that wouldn’t let any stray rounds escape. The Kill House had four rooms, each set up with furniture and pop-up targets of bad guys and good guys. It was all computer-controlled with fifty thousand combination targets that were always changing. It was a live firing range for all weapons except the 20mm. Murdock had been running his men through the Kill House once a day for the past two weeks. It was one of the best ways to keep them sharp and ready for anything.
    Murdock heard a beeping and looked around. Then he swore softly, dug into his shirt pocket, and took out an inch-and-a-half-square plastic beeper. He had argued against using one, but the boss, Commander Masciareli, had insisted that every platoon leader in Team Seven have a beeper and a cell phone, and they would be in use whenever the men were on or off duty in the Coronado area.
    Murdock took out the beeper and looked at the window. A phone number showed. It was Master Chief MacKenzie’s number at the Quarter Deck. Murdock fought against it a moment, then shrugged and took a cell phone from his pocket and turned it on. He dialed the number.
    “Quarter Deck, Johnson here, sir.”
    “Master Chief MacKenzie please,” Murdock said.
    A moment later the familiar Scottish brogue came marching over the airwaves.
    “Well, you are available, Commander, lad … sir,” MacKenzie said. “Wondering if you knew that a cell phone has to be switched to the on position before it works? Did you know that now, lad?”
    “I’ve heard something about it, Master Chief.”
    “Good idea to keep it turned on; otherwise it’s not much good.”
    “You must have something important to say, MasterChief. Or is it just that the fishing is good off the kelp beds?”
    “Fishing is good, aye. But there is one item. Sorry to break up your training routine, Commander, but your team commander himself wishes a word with you and JG Gardner. He said immediately, so I’d say that’s as soon as you can get your bodies up this direction.”
    “The JG is currently at the Kill House, but he’ll be returning in about ten and we’ll choggie our way up to the Quarter Deck.”
    “Aye, lad. I’ll tell him you’re on your way.”
    Fifteen minutes later, Murdock and the JG stepped out of the Turtle and walked over to the Quarter Deck. From there it was a short distance to the Team Seven commander’s office. Murdock knocked, and the two officers entered when they heard a growl from behind the door.
    “Good you’re here. Gardner, are you dripping?”
    “No, sir. Just sweating.”
    “Good. At least he went through channels this time. We have a small problem in the Pacific Ocean. Somewhere out there. Finding it is going to be a problem. It seems that we have a three-hundred-foot merchant freighter missing.”
    “Missing, sir?” JG asked.
    “That’s right, Lieutenant. She was supposed to dock here in San Diego two days ago and has not shown up. Her satellite transmissions were on schedule, and she reported every night for the eight days of the trip. Each time her position was consistent with her eleven-knot speed working toward the mainland. She isn’t here. The CIA
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