CHAPTER THIRTY

"You ever stationed out here, Sor?" asked Frank.

"Me? No. Air Force doesn't really come around this area. It's all you SEALs and Marines," he smiled.

"Brother, I was Ranger all the way," grinned Frank.

"That's right," he nodded. "My apologies."

"What can I get you guys?" asked a young man waiting on them.

"Burgers all the way around, medium, loaded fries," said Cowboy.

"Something to drink?"

"Just water for me," said Frank. The others all nodded in agreement, and the young man walked away. Sor frowned, then looked around the room again.

"What's wrong?" asked Ben.

"The waiters. They're all military. This isn't on-base."

"Hey, sorry, did you want everything on the burgers? Onions, pickles, all of it?" asked their waiter.

"Yeah, that's fine," said Frank. "Hey, man. Not to pry, but are you active duty?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded.

"They let you have another job?"

"Let me? I have to have another job if I want to be able to afford housing, daycare for my three-month-old, and food. This restaurant is one of the few that caters to all of us. They're pretty good about our hours. The money I make in tips pays for the car note so my wife can go to work. My base pays for daycare, and my military pay combined with my wife's check is enough for us to afford rent in the area."

"That fucking sucks," said Sor.

"Yes, sir. It does. But ask any of these guys and they'll tell you our military pay doesn't cover all the expenses. There's not enough base housing to allow all of us to live there. I've been deployed five times because the hazard pay is a nice little nest egg for my wife. With the new baby, I just don't want to be deployed again any time soon."

"I can understand that," said Frank.

"I'll get these burgers in, and it will be fast," he said, walking away.

"He's a kid," said Cowboy. "He can't be more than twenty-one or twenty-two."

"We were kids once," said Frank. "These young guys meet a girl, fall in love, and they're lonely. I bet he married her right out of basic or before. He wanted to know she was his. It's how it works. But not being able to afford to make rent? That fucking blows!"

"Looks like the guys on base know about this place. Everyone here seems to be getting off duty or is coming in afterwards. At least they're giving their business to their brothers," said Sor.

"True, but it still shouldn't be happening," said Cowboy.

"Brother, I don't disagree with you. The average pay for an enlisted Marine is about forty-eight hundred bucks a month. Around here, that barely covers rent. For an enlisted Navy man or woman, it's even less. I mean, that pay is good if you live in rural Ohio but not southern California," said Sor.

"No wonder guys do stupid shit to make extra money. At least this guy is earning his extra dough," said Cowboy.

"I remember doing some side hustle work," said Matt. "Kev and I both worked as a bouncer at a strip club. They thought we were twins, and we just let them believe we were. Left off all our military shit on the application."

"Did you need the money?" frowned Luke.

"No. You know we didn't. Dad and Mom would have sent anything we needed. It was more about staying out of trouble. We watched other guys turning to drinking, chasing skirts, gambling, all that shit when they were bored. We just knew that wasn't gonna be us. Besides, we got to bust a few heads just because, and that made it all worthwhile," he smirked.

A few minutes later, the waiter brought out the burgers and fries. He quickly moved to his next table, hustling hard for his money tonight. When the team was done, they paid their bill in cash, leaving a two-hundred-dollar tip for him with a note.

Been there too, brother. Hang tough. It will get better.

Feeling lighter, they got in the SUV and headed back to Miramar. It was time to catch their rat.

Parking their vehicle in the thick brush on the side of a dirt road, they hiked toward the fence line. As instructed, the Seabees were focused on work, heads down, not paying attention to what was around them. They knew, but they were giving leeway to the team to catch their guy alive.

The runways were silent, no planes landing or taking off at this hour. The base was always busy with men working on planes, fixing equipment and runways, and working through the night to ensure the safety of the country.

Matt walked up to the man they'd spoken to earlier with the Seabees.

"Anything?" he asked.

"No, sir. Nothing. We've kept our heads down for the most part, but like you asked, we have two rifles in the trees. Guard tower is dark, as you asked as well."

"We appreciate this. We'll be hidden to the side if you see anything."

"Yes, sir."

"Son, you don't have to call me sir," he smirked.

"Sir, just by you calling me ‘son' means I do," he laughed. Matt just shook his head, muttering under his breath, smart ass.

"Well?" asked Sor.

"Nothing yet. Let's get hidden."

Pulling the stealth blankets over their heads, they scattered along the fence line and waited. If DeWitt was going to cross through the fence, this would be the only place that he would be able to.

This was ground zero.