Under Fire - By W.E.B. Griffin Page 0,60

master gunner did not expect.

He had been told by Major Robert B. Macklin to keep an eye out for Captain McCoy, Kenneth R. Out of school, between old warriors, he had told the master gunner that he knew McCoy, that the Corps had finally realized McCoy should have never been commissioned in the first place, and that McCoy had reported to Pendleton for involuntary separation. He had told him further that Eighth & Eye had determined that McCoy should be offered the chance to enlist as a gunnery sergeant on his separation.

That fact—that tomorrow Captain McCoy would either be a civilian or a gunnery sergeant—had influenced the master gunner’s decision not to stand up or call “attention on deck” when McCoy had come in the office.

The master gunner now made another decision—based on right now this clown’s still a captain—and let the telephone fall back in its cradle.

“Sir,” he said. “My orders are to inform Major Macklin the moment you showed up here.”

“Have you any idea what that’s all about?” McCoy asked.

“No, sir, I don’t. But if the captain will have a seat, I’m sure it will be cleared up in a couple of minutes.”

He reached for the telephone again.

“Get Colonel Brewer on the horn, please,” McCoy said.

“Sir?”

“You heard me,” McCoy said.

The master gunner made another decision, based both on the tone of the clown’s voice and the fact that he was still a captain, and dialed Colonel Brewer’s quarters number.

He was aware that McCoy’s eyes were on him.

Colonel Brewer answered on the third ring.

“Sir. Matthews. I have a Captain McCoy here in the office. He asked me to call you.”

“Finally!” Colonel Brewer said. “Put him on, Matthews.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Master Gunner Matthews said, and held out the phone to the clown.

“McCoy, sir,” McCoy said. “Sorry to bother you at home.”

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear your voice,” Brewer said. “Stay right there. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. ”

“Sir, my wife expects me to be coming back to the hotel. ”

“Call her and tell her that’s on hold; I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” McCoy said, and broke the connection with his finger. He looked at Matthews. “How do I get an outside line? I have to call ’Diego.”

“Captain, that phone’s for official business.”

“You’re an interesting man, mister,” McCoy said. “Most master gunners I know are anything but chickenshit.” He paused. “What do I do? Dial operator?”

“Nine,” Master Gunner Matthews said.

McCoy called Ernie and told her something had come up, and he would be delayed; he could call when he knew something.

Matthews took the telephone from McCoy and started to dial.

“You are not to inform Major Macklin that I have spoken to Colonel Brewer. You understand that? That was an order,” McCoy said.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Master Gunner Matthews said, finished dialing, and when Major Macklin answered, informed him that Captain McCoy was in the office.

He hung up the phone and looked at McCoy.

“Major Macklin, sir, says that you are not to leave the office until he gets here.”

“Okay,” McCoy said.

“Captain, I’m just following my orders.”

“I understand.”

“Major Macklin led me to understand that you know each other,” Matthews said.

“Then you probably have had a fascinating recital of my time in the Corps,” McCoy said. “Yes, mister, Major Macklin and I know each other very well.”

Matthews met McCoy’s eyes.

“Corporal,” he ordered. “Get the captain a cup of coffee. ”

Major Robert B. Macklin, USMC, and Lieutenant Colonel Peter S. Brewer showed up in the office within three minutes of each other, Macklin first. Macklin was in full uniform.

“Attention on deck!” Master Gunner Matthews bellowed when Macklin came through the door.

He, McCoy, and the corporal popped to attention.

“As you were,” Macklin said. He walked up to McCoy.

“Where the hell have you been, McCoy?”

“Sir, I have been on ordinary leave.”

“I spent several hours on the telephone in a fruitless search for you,” Macklin said.

McCoy didn’t reply.

“Get Colonel Brewer on the telephone for me,” Macklin ordered.

Master Gunner Matthews dialed a number.

After a long moment, looking at McCoy, Matthews reported, “Sir, there is no answer.”

“Try it again,” Macklin ordered, and then turned back to McCoy. “My orders are to notify Colonel Brewer the moment I have located you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In the event I am unable to reach him tonight, I have no intention of letting you out of sight again,” Macklin said. “Mister Matthews, is there a cot here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Am I to understand, Major, that I’m under some sort of restriction? Am I under arrest?”

“What you are, Captain, is ordered

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