Undeclared War by Dennis Chalker

Author:Dennis Chalker [Dennis Chalker, with Kevin Dockery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780061746918
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2007-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The ride back to the shop was a somber one for Reaper and Bear. Outside of locating Arzee, they hadn’t seen a single positive sign of Reaper’s wife or son. Now reaction was setting in from their long mission. A numb, dead tiredness hung over them from being up for more than a day manning their observation post.

During the trip back to Deckert’s, Bear had dozed off while Reaper drove. He only woke up as they pulled into the driveway leading to the farm. Bear leaned forward in his seat and stretched out with a wide jaw-cracking yawn and deep growling groan. Reaper thought Bear suddenly resembled his nickname even more than usual.

“You need a tree to scratch your back against before you crap in the woods?” Reaper asked as they pulled up to the house.

A loud fart was Bear’s first response.

“Arrgh, me mouth tastes like a she-cat littered in it,” he said.

“What?” Reaper said as he pulled the van back around to the rear of the house and parked out of sight of the main road.

“My favorite line from an old Viking movie,” Bear said. “It was a Richard Widmark flick called The Long Ships. It had lots of great tits in it, too.”

As Bear turned to look at his staring friend, he explained. “Hey, I just had the music going through my head okay? I used to think about it during those long swims back in the Teams.”

“Whatever works for you,” Reaper said with a grin and a shake of his head.

Inside the house, the two SEALs carried their packs with the camera gear into the office where Deckert was waiting.

“Here you go,” Reaper said as he handed Deckert the memory card from the Nikon camera.

Without a word, Deckert started downloading the digital photos into his desktop computer. He had software that would let him easily manipulate the pictures the two SEALs had taken during their observations of the Factory. Important shots could be printed off as hard copies for further study.

While Reaper hovered over his friend’s shoulder as he worked, Bear sat down at a desk and went over his notes and logbook. He added details and scribbled notes on the margins as he looked at the sketches he had made of the interior of the Factory club floor. There was little talk and no joking as they began to analyze the raw intelligence data gathered during their long vigil.

Looming over Deckert’s shoulder got old fast for Reaper. He gathered up the logs, printouts, and other materials, and went out to the kitchen table where they had room to spread out a little. All types of information lay across the table top; satellite and aerial photographs, hard copy photos from the computer, maps, logbooks, sketches, even street maps, newspapers, and Detroit magazines. None of it told Reaper the location of his family. But it did show him the size of their target in graphic detail.

Bear stepped into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Carrying his steaming mug, he walked around the counter to the table where Reaper sat.

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