Under Attack: A World War II Novel (Sgt. Hawk Book 3) by Patrick Clay

Author:Patrick Clay [Clay, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rough Edges Press
Published: 2022-07-12T00:00:00+00:00

6

The night oozed by like a snake. No one slept. They lived in the waking nightmare. It was Hawk’s fault that the patrol didn’t make it to New Oss by noon. He abandoned all his responsibilities and went off into the bush with Mellie to get a fix on the Nodu village. It took a total of five hours to go there and back to the coast. Mellie took him to the shores of a lake covered with a layer of scum icing. He made a crude map of the filthy hamlet’s location. It could barely be seen on the far side of the lake. Mellie was afraid of the mere sight of the hut roofs in the distance. Hawk hoped for trouble, and though he made himself available for it by his bold reconnaissance, none developed. He was certain that he was being observed, even if his five senses told him otherwise. They went back to the coast and the patrol returned to New Oss before dark.

“I’ll never get used to the killing,” McGranger confided to Hawk as they entered the safety of the town.

Hawk looked at his feet as he walked. “There’s a trick to it,” he said. “Don’t look at dead people. Not till you start to liking it. Then it don’t matter no more.”

The sergeant took Canlon with him over to St. Cyr’s mansion. About an hour of daylight remained. He figured he better let Carlisle know what was going on. When they got there, they were told that the captain was eating and had asked to not be disturbed. The two marines walked back out into the street and waited there. They could have made a big show and burst in with the urgent message, but Hawk wasn’t that way. His mean streak extended even to the social side of life. Carlisle thought he was being cute by making himself inaccessible. Let him wait for the information. Maybe he would change his ways when he found out what he’d done. Maybe he wouldn’t. Hawk didn’t care.

Miss Asquith stood by the closed door of the second floor veranda. Through its many glass panes she could see the coming of evening to the street below. Diana St. Cyr stood beside her. Miss Asquith put her arm around Diana’s shoulder. On the ground before them they could see the two marines waiting in front of the mansion. Miss Asquith decided to cheer Diana up with a bit of joking.

“Can Captain Carlisle come out and play?” she said, Diana laughed. She liked Miss Asquith. Some day she would be just like her. They stared at the two men with a sort of disgusted interest. A green glow surrounded the marines. They were covered with foliage stains, slime, and the fungus mold that grew on anything that entered the damp jungle for any period of time. Hawk spat a stream of black chewing tobacco into the street. Canlon was innocently blowing his nose with his thumb and without the aid of a handkerchief.

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