"Clancy, Tom - Clear & Present Danger" - читать интересную книгу автора (Clancy Tom)

Lieutenant Timothy Washington Jackson, Infantry, hadn't cleaned up yet, but was almost ready to leave for his place in the bachelor officers' quarters, called the BOQ, or merely The Q. He looked up to see two of his senior NCOs.

"Lieutenant, Chavez here's got orders to skip off to Fort Benning PDQ. They're picking him up this evening."

"So I hear. I just got a call from the battalion sergeant major. What the hell gives? We don't do things this way," Jackson growled. "How long?"

"Eighteen hundred, sir."

"Super. I gotta go and get cleaned up before I see the S-3. Sergeant Mitchell, can you handle the equipment records?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, I'll be back at seventeen hundred to finish things up. Chavez, don't leave before I get back."

*

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. Mitchell was willing to handle shipping - there wasn't that much to ship - and squared the younger man away, with a few lessons tossed in on the better ways to expedite paperwork. Lieutenant Jackson was back on time, and brought both men into his office. It was quiet. Most of the platoon was already gone for a well-deserved night on the town.

"Ding, I ain't ready to lose you yet. We haven't decided who takes the squad over. You were talking about Ozkanian, Sergeant Mitchell?"

"That's right, sir. What d'you think, Chavez?"

"He's about ready," Ding judged.

"Okay, we'll give Corporal Ozkanian a shot at it. You're lucky, Chavez," Lieutenant Jackson said next. "I got caught up on all my paperwork right before we went into the field. You want me to go over your evaluation with you?"

"Just the high spots'll be fine, sir." Chavez grinned. The lieutenant liked him, and Chavez knew it.

"Okay, I say you're damned good, which you are. Sorry to lose you this quick. You going to need a lift?" Jackson asked.

"No problem, sir. I was planning to walk over."

"Crap. We all did enough walking last night. Load your stuff into my car." The lieutenant tossed him the keys. "Anything else, Sergeant Mitchell?"

"Nothin' that can't wait until Monday, sir. I figure we earned ourselves a nice restful weekend."

"As always, your judgment is impeccable. My brother's in town, and I'm gone till 0600 Monday morning."

"Roger that. Have a good one, sir."

Chavez didn't have much in the way of personal gear, and, unusually, didn't even have a car. In fact he was saving his money to buy a Chevy Corvette, the car that had fascinated him since boyhood, and was within five thousand dollars of being able to pay cash for one. His baggage was already loaded into the back of Jackson's Honda CVCC when the lieutenant emerged from the barracks. Chavez tossed him the keys back.

"Where they picking you up?"

"Division G-1 is what the man said, sir."

"Why there? Why not Martinez Hall?" Jackson asked as he started up. Martinez was the customary processing facility.

"Lieutenant, I just go where they tell me."