Matterhorn

by Karl Marlantes

Skipper.” There was short pause, and Fitch came up on the hook again. “OK, I’ll buy that. You copy that, Bravo Three? Over.” “Roger, I copy,” said Kendall. “If that’s where we are, I got to come back out of this little draw because we’re headed the wrong direction. Over.” “Jesus Christ,” Bass muttered. “Bravo Two, this is Bravo Six. You copy our pos? Over.” “Fuck, yes, Jack. Over.” “Look, Scar, I know you’re not due to walk point until tomorrow, but could you take it this afternoon so Three can join our tail as we go by? Over.” There was short pause while Goodwin weighed the request against the additional danger. “OK, Jack. Bravo Two, out.” Mellas left Hawke and Bass and worked his way forward to Hamilton, who gave him the handset. “Skipper wants to talk to you,” Hamilton said. From the tone of his voice, Mellas felt something had gone wrong. “Bravo Six, this is Bravo One Actual. Over.” “Bravo One, where the fuck you been? You don’t go anyplace without your radio. Is that clear? Do you copy that? Over.” Mellas flushed and looked angrily at Hamilton,