4. Merlin
4
MERLIN
Commander North’s expression is not a happy one.
“All right team, listen up.” He waits a moment as the room settles down. “Communications received a distress signal from the Mystique, a luxury cruise liner out on the Caribbean route. They managed to get a partial call out before communication was lost. Despite numerous attempts, we were unable to raise them again.”
“They still floating, sir?” Hot Sauce, the youngest on the team, asks.
“Yeah. We got eyes on them via satellite, and as at the start of this briefing, they were.”
“Possibly someone jamming the signal then, sir?” Ace asks.
“Yeah, we suspect so, since the liner seems intact. My guess would be the hijackers are cutting them off from the outside world.”
“Any demands yet?” This from Phantom.
“Nothing yet, no. So, we’re unsure if they’re simply in distress or there’s something more sinister at play. We do, however, know that Senator Grant Stanton’s son is onboard with a team of employees on some kind of incentive trip. There’s a strong possibility that, if this is in fact a hijacking, he’s the target.
“Interesting fact. When we reached out to Whitcomb, or Mason as he’s known to employees, since he’d be the senior officer in charge while Stanton’s at sea, his secretary told us he’s part of this year’s event. Apparently, it’s the first time he’s been a part of it. Coincidence? My gut says no.”
We nod in agreement. Based on the intel we’ve read on the man, he seems to be very strategic. So, if he’s never been on one but is on this trip, he’s got a good reason for it. Question is, what? If we can figure that out, I think we’ll find the answer to the hijacking.
Pulling up an image on the screen behind him, the commander continues, “As you’re now aware, this is Phillip Stanton, CEO of StanCorp. Leila Asherton is Stanton’s Executive Assistant — his right-hand woman, as it were.” At his words, I can feel the eyes of the guys on me.
Not one of them so much as murmured Leila’s name in my presence. In fact, no one’s saying a word. But Commander North knows Leila was an important part of my past, so I’m curious to see if he’s going to say anything. As always, he doesn’t disappoint.
“I’m aware there could be a potential conflict of interest on this mission, but since the other teams are currently deployed elsewhere, I’m going to have to trust that this team is professional enough to get the job done, and done right.
“While Stanton’s been pissing off a lot of captains of industry lately with a revolutionary new product aimed at phasing out the use of fossil fuel, I suspect that, if this is in fact a hijacking, he’s the target. I’m hearing rumors that he’s looking into irregularities in his financial records after a recent audit. Could also be why Whitcomb’s inserted himself into this trip.”
Again, there’s no comments regarding Leila — in fact, the guys don’t even touch on the topic of this being personal. They simply dive straight into questions about the mission, and the commander spends the next fifteen minutes answering them.
Finally, he says, “The only way to ascertain which scenario we’re dealing with is to get onboard that ship. To that end, we’ll rendezvous with the USS San Remos. They’re returning to the US after trials on the new submersives, and we’re being given the opportunity to take them out on their inaugural run.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, we talk strategy for boarding the cruise liner and ensuring the best outcome.
“All right gentlemen, that’s it. Boots up in thirty. Dismissed,” Commander North says. “And gentlemen,” he pauses, waiting until he’s got everyone’s attention, “it goes without saying but I’m going to say it anyway, be safe out there.”
As one we reply, “Sir, yes, sir.”
As the rest of the guys vacate the room, I turn to look at the screen one last time. Stanton’s image is side-by-side with Leila’s, but I only have eyes for her. God, she’s so beautiful. Time has been more than kind to her. In fact, time has blessed her. The beautiful woman has morphed into an exquisite queen. My heart squeezes so hard I rub it in an effort to ease the pain.
I walked away from her five years ago, the one woman who means everything to me. And it’s something I’ve regretted. Every. Damn. Day. Since.
“Everything okay, Merlin?” I hear the commander ask.
“Yes, sir. All good.”
“Have a safe trip,” he replies before exiting the room and leaving me with my demons.
Shaking myself out of my reverie, I turn on my booted heel and go in search of my teammates.
Since there’s no time to go home and pack, we grab our to-go bags from our vehicles. We pack our backpacks, ensuring we have anything and everything we might possibly need — hence the reason our gear weighs so much — and make our way over to our departure point.
Finding our plane already on the tarmac, we waste no time boarding and getting settled in so we can continue to strategize. Finally, when we’ve covered every likely scenario we can think of, we settle down to rest until go time.
Try as I might, I can’t find the mental quiet I need for sleep to come. Instead, I find my thoughts turning to Leila, for the millionth time since I saw her photo in the briefing. Memories I’ve locked down, knowing that they’d break me if I continued to dwell on them. Now, as if the floodgates have been opened, they rush out, dragging me back into the past.
Lost in thought, the voice of our pilot pulls me out of my head.
“About to commence descent, Chief.”
“Copy that.” Smooth as silk, the bird comes to rest on the deck of the USS San Remos. All right, let’s go, gents.”
The vessel’s commanding officer is waiting for us on the deck.
“Welcome aboard, everyone.”
Saluting, I shout to be heard above the sound of the rotor blades. “Thank you, sir.”
“You, Jackson?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good to meet you.” His eyes track behind me. “Looks like you’re all safely aboard. Follow me.”
Below deck, we gather for a briefing, sharing our strategy and figuring out the final details of this operation. Before long, the team is loaded in two of the submersives, and we’re ready. I’m curious about these new mini submarines. There’s been a lot of talk about them, not least because of their radar signature. Even if we’re picked up on the ship’s radar, they’ll think we’re nothing more than a couple of whales.
The small subs cut through the water fairly quickly for their size, and in less time than I would have thought, we’re approaching the cruise ship. My thoughts shift from the tiny vessels we’re on to the mission at hand. I’m trying to keep thoughts of Leila at bay, knowing I need my head in the game.
My team’s — and my own — safety depends on it. These men are more than teammates; they’re family. And it’s my job to ensure their safety. Nor can I keep Leila and the others safe if I can’t keep my mind on the task at hand.
“Gentlemen, thank you for sailing USS Champion. Please remain seated until docked and remember to take all personal items with you when disembarking as we cannot be held responsible for missing belongings. We wish you happy hunting,” our pilot jokes. And, for a brief moment, it breaks the tension in the tiny sub.
At least now I know where the saying “like sardines in a can” comes from.
We feel the gentlest of bumps as the submarine nestles up to the hull. The engine hums as we rise to snorkeling depth to survey our surroundings via the surveillance cameras mounted on the outside. Finding it all clear, he gives us the go-ahead and surfaces so we can board the vessel.
“Godspeed,” the man says.
“Thanks, man. See you on the flip side,” I reply just as my com crackles to life in my ear.
“We’re ready when you are, Merlin,” Jake “Phantom” Stevens murmurs from the other sub.
“Let’s get it done then.”
Mentally preparing myself for what’s to come, my gut clenches at the thought of seeing Leila again. Somehow, I doubt she’s going to be thrilled to see me, even if I am the cavalry. All I can hope is that she’s still alive to give me hell.
With the stealth we’re known for, we make our way out of the subs and quietly climb the side of the ship. We slow as we approach the top, listening for any sounds out of place. The last thing we need is to surprise any hijackers that might be onboard.
Peering over the railing, I find the deck deserted. A red flag in and of itself. There should be people, both passengers and staff, moving about. We climb aboard and spread out, splitting up into three teams to recon the situation before putting our plan into motion.
The plan, simple as it is, is to subdue the enemy with as little loss of life as humanly possible, rescue the hostages, and reclaim the ship. So simple, but so many variables. We’re hoping the cover of darkness will aid us. Yes, the deck is lit, but there’s plenty of places to hide in the shadows. Problem is, that works just as well for the hijackers as it does for us.
Just as we’re about to move, I see movement to my left. Giving the signal to hold, I remove my KA-BAR from its sheath, ready to take the threat out with little to no noise. But he turns and heads back the way he came. As soon as he’s out of sight, we move.