The Captains Read Online Free

the slopes here.
    But he was embarrassed when the master sergeant came barging into his room at the BOQ and caught him in bed with her like that.
    â€œWhat the hell?” he said, sitting up in bed. “Goddamnit, Sergeant, didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?”
    â€œCaptain, the North Koreans are attacking all over the goddamned parallel.”
    The blond looked at him in disbelief for just a minute, saw that he was serious, and covered her mouth with her hand.
    â€œOh, my God!” she said.
    â€œJesus Christ!” MacMillan said, and got out of bed and picked up his shorts where he’d dropped them on the floor.
    â€œAre they coming here?” the blond asked, holding the sheet in front of her, more frightened now than embarrassed or outraged.
    â€œIt’s no raid,” the sergeant said. “It’s a war, that’s what it is.”
    â€œJesus Christ,” MacMillan said again. He pulled his tropical worsted Class “A” trousers on, and then dipped into the nearest of his two Valv-Paks and came up with a small Colt .32 caliber automatic pistol. He ejected the clip, confirmed that it contained cartridges, replaced it, and put the pistol in his hip pocket.
    â€œThe colonel sent me to ask you to pick up three officers on the Ongjin peninsula,” the master sergeant said.
    â€œWhy?” MacMillan asked, as he put on his shirt.
    â€œBecause they’re cut off, is why,” the sergeant said.
    â€œI got my own colonel to worry about,” MacMillan replied.
    â€œUnless you go get them,” the sergeant said, “they’re gonna get run over.”
    â€œI didn’t say I wouldn’t go get them,” MacMillan replied. “What I said was that I got my own colonel to worry about.”
    â€œWhat happens to me, Mac?” the blond asked. She was now out of bed, her back to the men, picking up her underpants from where she had dropped them the night before.
    â€œThe sergeant will take you into Seoul to the Embassy, or wherever you want to go,” Mac said. “If I were you, I’d go to the Embassy first.”
    â€œAll right,” she said, as if making a decision.
    â€œThe guys at Ongjin know I’m coming after them?” MacMillan asked.
    â€œWe told them we’d try to get somebody up there,” the sergeant said.
    â€œThat’s not what I asked,” MacMillan said angrily.
    â€œTheir radio’s out,” the sergeant said.
    â€œWhich means they could already be rolled over, doesn’t it?” MacMillan said.
    â€œWe have to try,” the sergeant said.
    â€œ We have to try?” MacMillan said. “Shit!”
    There was a peculiar whistling sound outside. MacMillan’s face screwed up as he tried to identify it. Then there came the scream of propellers on aircraft flying low.
    â€œGoddamnit, they’re strafing the airfield,” MacMillan said and went to the window, pushing the curtain aside. He saw a Russian-built YAK fighter pulling up after a run on the terminal building across the field. “Shit, if they get the Navion, we’ll all be walking,” he said.
    The blond, oblivious to the amount of thigh she was displaying, hooked her stockings to her garters, pulled her dress down, and slipped into her shoes. MacMillan sat down and put on his shoes and socks.
    â€œLet’s go see if I still have an airplane,” he said. He put his leather-billed cap on, picked up his two Valv-Paks, and walked out of the BOQ.
    The Navion, parked across the field from the air force and civilian terminals of the airfield, was intact. MacMillan put his Valv-Paks in the plane, one in the luggage compartment, one in the back seat, and then turned to face the blond and the sergeant.
    â€œI want you to find my colonel,” he said. “Colonel Downs, he’s in the Naija Hotel. Tell him what I’ve done and that I should be back here, if I can still get in here, in an hour. If