Page 41 of Hot & Heavy

"Oh, yeah! I can't wait to see their faces," Dough-lore-ass replied. "I heard Seaman LeBlanc refer to her Phyllis Diller hair."

"Are you speaking of me?" Madrene asked.

"Yep. You are beautiful, and I'll bet my stripes they didn't have a clue," Amber explained.

"I am not beautiful," Madrene said with consternation. She hated it when people felt the need to pay false compliments.

"Maybe not beautiful exactly," Dough-lore-ass said. "More like knock-'em-dead attractive."

"Tsk-tsk! What nonsense you spout!"

"Honey, you're tall, you're slim, you have to-die-for hair, and you have breasts that would stop even a gay guy in his tracks."

"Gay guy? Why would my breasts make a happy man stop?"

Amber and Dough-lore-ass erupted with laughter. When they explained what "gay" meant, she laughed, too. Thus the three of them were laughing as they entered the general's chamber.

Chapter Seven

Surprise!…

Ian and the guys were sitting in the mess hall, drinking coffee and shooting the breeze. The only one missing was Slick, and God only knew where he'd disappeared to.

They'd all been invited to a party hosted by some Air Force babes that Cage had met within fifteen minutes of landing here… surprise, surprise! Ian wasn't sure if he would go, but maybe he should at least make an appearance to avoid the ragging he would get about his libido, or lack thereof. Besides, after the reprimand he'd gotten from General Adams, he could use a beer… or five.

It was almost nine p.m., so the large room was mostly empty. The SEALs of Force Squad were full, relaxed and rehashing their mission for about the tenth time, not counting the unpleasant meeting with General Adams. Ian didn't like being called on the carpet; it reminded him too much of his father, always criticizing him, never praising. Even when he'd finally given in and gone to officers candidate school, that hadn't been enough. Even when he… oh, hell, what difference did it make?

"What do you think will happen to Jamal?" Pretty Boy asked.

"My guess is that security around him will be tighter than anything we've ever seen before," Omar said.

"That man is one mean mother, up there with Bin Laden and the other super terrorists."

Ian agreed. "Uncle Sam, and the Iraqis, will want to make an example of him, punish him for all the deaths he's ordered. Did you hear about that mass grave they found last week in Fallujah? I have a friend with the marines who were first on the scene. He said the jarheads couldn't stop vomiting, it was that bad."

"Yeah, but the pussies in Washington will want to be politically correct," Pretty Boy pointed out. "His trial will have to be squeaking damn fair or the ACLU and Amnesty International will be on the military like dogs on a bone."

They all nodded, having no liking for the ultra liberals who made their work harder.

"It feels good to have brought the creep in, though," Geek said, echoing the satisfaction they all felt. As for Geek, he'd done real good for his first mission. Now he could say he'd been "blooded."

"Did you see that little Arab girl when her granddad came to get her?" Sly asked. "Man, I had tears, and I hardly ever tear up."

"Yeah. She'll probably need a shrink for a long time, but she'll be okay," Omar said. "Now, if she were living in an Arab culture, she'd be ostracized for the rapes, even though they weren't her fault. But she's westernized, and her family lives in the U.S. most of the time. She'll be okay… in time."

"What do you think will happen to Yasmine?" Geek wondered.

That was what had been worrying Ian, though he berated himself for even thinking about her. "Hell if I know! If she is Jamal's lover, she'll be in big trouble. Prison, for sure."

"I find it hard to believe that even Jamal would want to screw that… shrew," Pretty Boy said, then laughed at his own joke. "Screw the shrew. I like that."

There was a communal groan at Pretty Boy's warped humor.

"Yeah, but there are those breasts," Cage reminded them, as if any of them needed a reminder.

"Man, I could have pissed my pants when I saw her launch herself at you," Omar said. "She was like a nude missile or something."

"She is… something else," Ian agreed.