Generation Lost (Gray Wolf Security #17)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When Vince and Bull walked into the auditorium the next morning, the entire senior team, as well as the VG team, were waiting.

“What’s up?” asked Ian.

“The U.S. military and Canadian military were aware that someone was manufacturing weapons and bringing them through the U.S. What they weren’t aware of was that the manufacturer is taking orders from people living in the U.S.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Gaspar. “As we well know, just about any idiot can buy a gun here.”

“True. If they are a citizen. Legally,” said Vince.

“Wait a minute,” said Nine, standing with his hands in the air. “Are you telling me that persons in this country illegally are being armed by these people? Handed weapons to make them a larger threat than they might already be.”

“Worse,” said Bull. “They are targeting specific groups of illegal immigrants. Those from the Middle East, Asia, and Russia. They found an audience, and they’re working them with all they’ve got.”

“We have to disrupt their production,” said Gaspar. “Code? What do we know about the place in Russia?”

“I just finished the data this morning. I don’t detect anything nuclear, but there’s enough going in and out that I’m fairly damn sure it’s rifles and handguns. Considering the types of steel being used, that’s the only thing it could be.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in there,” said Nine.

“You’re right. They’re producing thousands of weapons. I don’t know how good they are, but they are enough to fill a cargo ship that left this morning.”

“A ship?” smirked Miller.

“You’re still a ballsy bastard with the dynamite,” smirked Conor.

“Dynamite is for babies,” laughed Miller.

Nine looked at Gaspar, Ian, and Ghost. They all nodded, looking toward Doug and Chipper.

“Do it. Blow it fucking sky-high and get the hell out of there. Pierre, mon frére, promise me you won’t die,” said Gaspar.

“I’ll do my best,” said Miller.

“Alright then, Savannah will take you to the ship in the Osprey. She’ll drop you down in stealth. Set the charges and get the hell out of there. Wear a stealth suit. We can’t risk you being seen at all.”

“Roger that,” he smiled. “I’ll be back by breakfast tomorrow. Chipper? Doug? Let’s go, boys. Time to act like children again.”

“Hot damn,” laughed Chipper.

Nearly seven hours later, the same group of men and women were seated in the auditorium, watching everything on camera. Savannah was hovering above the ship, visible only to those back home, while Miller repelled down. In the darkness, with only the small lights of the ship illuminating the backdrop, he was difficult to see other than an outline of his heat signature.

Flashing his laser, they saw him, catching his tracking signal and following. On each deck, he secured explosives, setting more than twenty in the cargo hold. He flashed the light, showing the crates of weapons stored.

“Are y’all seeing this?” he whispered.

“Fuck yes,” muttered Ian. “Get out of there, and blow that shit.”

On the top deck, Miller tapped for Savannah, and before he knew it, the rope was lowered to him in the darkness. Safely back on board, she took off toward Alaska, where they would refuel. Before the ship was out of sight, he pressed the button and watched as a kaleidoscope of colors filled the air. Groans of steel bending, breaking, and finally disappearing between the Bering Sea and the North Pacific before it finally disappeared beneath the icy, cold waters.

“Whoa,” whispered Savannah. “That was quite a show.”

“Yep. I managed to bring back a few souvenirs. When these families claim their ship sank with merchandise on it, we’ll show everyone what that merchandise actually was.”

“Our turn,” said Doug on comms. “Get that bird to Alaska and sit, Savannah. We’ll see you two at home.”

Using every piece of stealth aviation equipment they owned, they flew below any radar and no comms, just in case. If anyone were watching the sea, they would simply see a blast of wind disrupting the water below.

Once over the Chukchi Sea, they were radio silent, communicating only by hand signals and head nods. They knew how good their equipment was, but they were not sure if Russia had anything close that could pick up on it. Signing to Chipper, Doug nodded.

“Over target in five, four, three, two, one. Target acquired.”

Doug released the six bombs, acquiring a direct hit on their target. They weren’t surprised when what should have been a collapse of earth, wood, and steel became a volcano of melted steel, falling in on itself.

“Are you boys seeing this?” asked Doug.

“Seeing. Not believing,” said Ian. “What the fuck were they building in there?”

“If we had to guess,” said Chipper, “it was weapons plus ammo. Steel doesn’t make a molten river. They’re gonna have a lot to explain to someone in Moscow.”

“Just get the hell on this side of the line,” said Nine. “Once we know you’re over Alaska, we’ll feel better.”

“No signs of return fire,” said Doug. “I think we’re in the clear.” Ghost looked at the others, finally releasing the breath he was holding.

“Just get home.”