Chapter 2 #6
“Drop off—” Aberlour heard one of them say.
Someone else laughed as their footsteps continued down the companionway, moving away from them.
Aberlour waited another full minute, watching the upper deck carefully, before moving towards the companionway once more.
He searched for any more guards, and finding none, signaled Marcus to proceed, as Aberlour took over guarding their six, and Oli kept his head on a swivel.
Moving swiftly and silently, they headed to the next deck.
The only sounds were the waves crashing against the metal hull of the cargo ship and their ragged breathing over the comms.
They made it to the upper deck undetected and moved swiftly to find cover in an alcove behind the bridge and the signal mast. Aberlour scanned their immediate area for any guards and, fortunately, it was all clear.
It was best not to take down any of the insurgents on the upper deck, which would likely alert the enemy to their presence.
The primary mission was to gain access to the communications center and reactivate the system so the Navy could locate the ship. The rest was up to SEAL Team 2.
Once he confirmed that the coast was clear, Aberlour signaled for his men to move out.
Marcus led them down the short distance to the bridge, stopping at the door to sneak a quick look through the small window.
He held up two fingers. Aberlour nodded and switched places with Oliver.
Then he tapped Marcus on the shoulder, signaling for him to open the door.
Aberlour readied himself, finger lightly caressing the trigger as he held up his rifle.
His aim was true. It was always true. Now it just needed to be fast.
Marcus pulled the door open and Aberlour burst onto the bridge a split second later.
Both guards on duty barely had time to look up before Aberlour popped them with a bullet between their eyes.
Two quick pops would probably go unnoticed since cargo ships were loud anyway because of the waves hitting the hull constantly and the drone of the diesel engines and propulsion systems.
As soon as the bodies hit the floor, Oliver and Marcus entered, shutting the door behind them. Oliver went to work blocking the door as Marcus headed straight for the control panel for the signal mast.
“Shit!” Marcus cursed.
“Problem?” Aberlour asked, walking over, finger still hovering over the trigger, eyes on the lookout for any threat. He glanced at the panel quickly and instantly realized why Marcus had cursed.
The fucking insurgents had taken an ax to it. Wires and pieces of electronics covered the floor and there were some wires hanging loosely from the top and sides of the control panel.
“Can you fix it?” Aberlour asked while positioning himself to look out on the lower deck. Oliver was watching their left flank, so Abe took the right.
“I’ll need some time. Can’t fix it, but I can connect a system booster to it. Its function will be limited. We won’t be able to radio in, but the Navy should be able to pick up a signal,” Marcus replied while pulling pieces of equipment from his backpack and getting to work.
“How will we know if it’s working?” Oliver asked as he kept his gaze trained on the left side of the bridge.
“When SEAL Team 2 shows up, I guess.” Marcus resumed cursing under his breath as he worked on reconnecting wires.
This was the part of their job that most were incapable of dealing with.
Green Berets, Rangers, SEALs—they could take down an entire ship covered with insurgents like it was a game of pool at the local bar.
They were absolute killing machines. The German Shepherds of military service.
Force Recon Marines were the black cats.
They weren’t dropped into action. They weren’t given a singular and precise mission.
They were left to their own devices and told to figure it out.
They had to be stealthy and clever. Blowing their cover meant dying alone, in enemy territory, where no one would ever raise a finger to come get them.
SEAL teams didn’t have to pray that their half-assed repair jobs worked.
They established contact with base, kept their commanding officers in the loop every step of the way.
They were never stranded. At least, they weren’t supposed to be.
They were never hunted because they were always the hunters.
Aberlour liked being hunted, because when he turned around and bared his teeth, he reveled in the wide-eyed stare of the hunter when he became the prey.
“How much longer?” Aberlour asked Marcus, as the comms system buzzed in his ear.
“Main deck cleared,” Ghost said. “Moving to the upper deck.”
“Careful. There was movement on the upper deck earlier,” Aberlour cautioned, glad to know that reinforcements were on the way.
“Two more minutes,” Marcus said, between clenched teeth as he worked on the wiring.
“We’re stuck on the main deck,” Carlos said.
“Several guards are on the upper deck. They are coming your way. Be advised.” Ghost spoke quickly.
“Right or left?” Aberlour asked, tightening his grip on the rifle.
“Left.”
“How many?”
“Hard to say. At least two,” Carlos replied.
Aberlour gestured for Oli to hide in the space behind the door.
“Hold your fire,” Aberlour told his men, as he crouched down behind the console, a few feet away from the door, ready to pounce.
“Marcus, move,” he ordered, though the man was way ahead of him, already swinging himself over the console and crouching down behind it as Aberlour had.
Then they waited. Always the waiting game.
It was hard to make out sounds outside the door, but Aberlour finally heard rubber soles hitting metal. He grabbed his Ka-Bar and signaled that Oliver should attack anyone who came through the door. Oliver nodded and grabbed his own Ka-Bar.
“We’ll never get off this fucking ship!” A voice came from outside, just as Aberlour caught sight of a man’s silhouette through a side window.
“He promised three days of this, but it’s been two fucking weeks,” another one complained.
The first man pushed the door open and stepped inside the bridge. He turned, laughing at the other’s reply. “Last time I run a job for those fuckers,” he agreed.
When he turned back, the second man closely following behind, he found Aberlour waiting, a blade in hand, and Oliver at their backs.
The two men were dispatched in a matter of seconds. The first finding a quick and silent death at the mercy of Aberlour’s Ka-Bar. The second slid to the floor silently, his neck bent the wrong way, eyes still wide with shock.
“It’s up!” Marcus announced, having returned to his repair work the minute the two insurgents were taken out.
“What now?” Oliver asked, returning to guard duty, gripping his Ka-Bar in case more guards appeared.
“We can’t wait here,” Marcus pointed out.
“But if it didn’t work, we won’t know unless the SEALs fail to show up. Then what? Can’t exactly return to home base for a do-over, now, can we?” Oliver argued.
“How sure are you that it worked?” Aberlour asked Marcus, keeping his gaze focused on the right side of the ship.
“About 80%,” he replied, confidently. “If the Navy is waiting for a signal, they should be able to spot it easily enough.”
Aberlour gave a sharp nod and pondered the situation for a minute.
“Then we do a partial retreat. Ghost and Carlos will head back to the ship. We stay until the SEALs show up.” Ultimately, it was his decision, but he wanted their input.
“We can hold the main deck,” Ghost declared.
“We don’t need you to. Your position is too open and the longer you stay there, the higher the risk of discovery. Toss the first guy overboard as you leave. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Aberlour looked over at Marcus and Oliver. Neither of them disagreed. Marcus stood up, weapon trained and ready.
“Copy that. Ghost and Chichi in route. JD, pick us up,” Carlos said over the comms.
“We shouldn’t be here when SEAL Team 2 shows up,” Oliver said, after a moment of listening to the groaning of Ghost and Carlos as they lowered themselves down the side of the cargo ship.
“Agreed,” Marcus replied tersely.
Aberlour knew they were both right. When the SEALs showed up, they’d come out shooting. They’d shoot first and ask questions later. Odds were, if they were still here when SEAL Team 2 stormed the bridge, a stray bullet might send them to an early grave.
“JD, keep an eye out on the skies. As soon as you see a chopper, let us know, and we’ll hightail it out of here,” Aberlour decided, though the back of his neck tingled with worry.
“Really? A last-minute dash?” Oliver asked, clearly amused by the suggestion.
“You wanna live?” Aberlour retorted, giving Oliver a hard look.
Oliver snorted but had no further argument.
The minutes ticked by as they waited in tense silence for either someone on board to discover them or for the SEALs to show up. Aberlour could have checked his watch, but it would do him no good. Time would pass, or it wouldn’t. They needed the SEALs to show up. It was as simple as that.
Oliver was on the cusp of asking Marcus to doublecheck his repair job and make sure the system booster was working when JD’s voice broke over the comms.
“Chopper is two minutes out.”