Chapter 24
They stacked up in the corridor around the corner from the comms room, backs tight against the bulkheads. Fisher had confirmed at least one guard at the door.
At Fisher’s mark, indicating that the guard turned away from them, the two men rushed around the corner. Jerry watched as Ibrahim reached the far man and incapacitated him while Brock slipped inside the room.
The pistols fired almost silently, the steel firing pins making more noise than the bullets exiting from the muzzles. Jerry heard a faint grunt, then Ibrahim gave the all-clear signal, a low whistle, before he dragged the body of the Chinese militant into the room.
They moved with stealth and precision, silently making their way further down the corridor to the comms room.
Jerry had expected a small room with some communication equipment.
However, when he walked in, Sanders looked around and said, “Well, turn off the smoker and call me done. Who knew we could run a country from here?”
Walls of screens and workstations lined one bulkhead.
He identified a sonar detector, a ham radio, VHF radios, a UHF rig, a wall of telephones, and three fax machines.
The other equipment was foreign to him, but Anderson whistled under his breath and slipped his suit jacket off.
He walked over to the sonar and tapped the screen.
“The ship rafted up alongside isn’t the only one here.
There’s something else just out of sight. ”
Pena walked over to him. “Any idea what it could be?”
Anderson shook his head. “It’s been a few years since I took the Navy course at Little Creek, but it’s smaller than the cargo ship outside.”
Brock gestured to the corner. “Three crew dead.”
Pena nodded. “Plus the two we took out.”
A dull gray device about the size of a bread machine sat like an uninvited guest in the middle of the aisle in front of the fax machines.
“JN-1105A,” Fisher said. “Blocking cell signals. When we unplug it, it might alert the OPFOR.” He looked at Anderson. “Heisman?”
“Never trained on it. Only ever seen pictures.”
Fisher nodded. “Same. Why couldn’t they be good commies and use a Russian Zhitel?”
“Very inconsiderate of them,” Anderson agreed.
Pena said, “I’d rather not let them know we’re onto them, much less coming for them.”
Fisher nodded and pulled a chair out to sit at a work station. He used his handkerchief to wipe blood from the screens. “Let’s see if we can get our voices back without alerting our new friends.”
“When you do, let Ozzy and my wife know. Emma is Twenty-Four Ten moving forward. She’ll get us all connected.” Pena looked at Anderson. “Chase, do you have your phone?”
“I do.”
“Fisher will hook you up with the app as soon as you have connectivity. We’ll use a group chat app for comms.” He gestured at the wall of phones. “Can we call the chapel from here?”
Anderson chimed in. “Depends on what they did to disable the equipment. Looks like an S-VOIP system, so it should be localized and unaffected by the jammer. They might have just powered down the router or the dish. We can find out.”
“If they don’t respond, try using the phone. But, Ozzy knows it’s coming either way.”
“Roger.”
“Daddy,” Ibrahim said from the back of the room. “You’ll want to see this.”
Jerry followed Pena through a door. Two walls of screens filled the room. Clearly, this was a security room. The screens showed different decks, passageways, and dining rooms. “Heisman!” he called.
Immediately, Anderson stood in the doorway. “Jorge?” His eyes lit up, and he came further in. “I would have thought this was in security.”
“Same.” Pena gestured. “Get us some eyes?”
“Gladly,” Anderson slid into a chair and pulled a keyboard closer.
He examined the screen in front of him and flipped through a binder at the workstation.
The system instruction set had helpfully been written in six languages.
He nodded and started typing. Immediately, the screens changed, showing passageways, the cargo area, and the promenade.
Jerry examined the cargo area. A Chinese man used a small forklift to carry a crate from the open dock door to the freight elevator. “I’m counting seventeen baddies just on this screen.”
Anderson flipped pages in the binder, then typed. Three screens filled with different angles of the loading dock.
Sanders whistled under his breath. “That’s enough firepower to wake the devil on a Sunday morning.”
Norton said, “I’d want all that under my Christmas tree if I were overthrowing a government.”
Crates and crates lined the loading dock as forklifts carried more to the cargo elevator.
“Whatever this is,” Pena said, “it was worth taking control of the island and this cruise ship.” Pena looked at Norton. “Thoughts?”
The latest crate contained familiar markings.
“That’s definitely Semtex. And that crate is likely mines or grenades.
Been awhile since I went through the recognition cards.
” Norton sighed, then pursed his lips and crossed his arms. He stared at the activity in the loading dock. “We don’t have enough ammo.”
“No.” Pena rubbed the back of his neck. “And the longer our attackers above go without reporting in or escorting us wherever we ought to be going, the less likely we can maintain the element of surprise.”
Jerry stared at the cargo bay. “There’s ammo in there.” He pointed at the crates on the screen.
Pena turned fully in his direction. Jerry found it odd to talk like this out of their gear.
They had no protection, no vests, no helmets, no gloves, no optics, no eyes in the sky, no backup, no solid intel keeping them informed in their ear—nothing.
Not even boots. Pena wore a light pink collared shirt and navy pants.
What made them think they could battle this small army?
“If we could secure you a weapon with a proper scope, what do you think about the island?”
Jerry looked at the screens again, knowing what his Captain asked him. Could he, as a sniper, find a perch on the ship and start taking out bad guys to help them secure the island? HHe noticed several uniformed crew members working in the cargo hold.
“I think the infiltration was deep,” he muttered. “We have no idea which crew were involved and which crew on the island are ignorant.”
Sanders raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
He tilted his head. “To answer your direct question, I could definitely provide overwatch tactical fire support from a high perch on the ship. The beach is less than half a klick away. Even with iron sights, I could do a passable job. The chapel sun deck is actually ideal.
“However, once I go hot, we don’t know what will happen to the civilians on the island if we don’t know which crew members are involved.
They could have explosives, grenades, or other fun toys.
There is a risk of significant collateral damage and considerable potential political fallout. Your call.”
Pena stared at him for what felt like a long time, then said, “Understood. That’s a problem for future me. Right now, we need to get control of this vessel. Preferably without anyone on the island knowing.”
“What’s the plan?” Ibrahim asked.
“We need more firepower to get more firepower because we need more firepower. Deck five. Armory.”
Anderson typed, and a passageway appeared on the screen directly in front of him. Two armed Haitian men in crew uniforms stood on either side of the door, while a Chinese soldier, all in black, covered the entrance to the corridor nearest the elevator and stairwell door.
Pena looked at Anderson. “Work with Fisher. Get us comms. Coordinate with us from here. Get a message to DC any way you can. See if they can scare up some help ASAP. Then see what you can do to disable the bandit handheld radios. In that order. Clear?”
Anderson nodded his understanding. “On it.”
“After we leave, seal this room. No one in or out without the challenge and password.”
Anderson said, “On it, Jorge. Whatever you need.”
Back in the comms room, he said to Fisher, “Think you can at least get the ship’s Wi-Fi reestablished so we can communicate?”
“Affirmative. Working on it, sir. Minutes or seconds away.”
“Seal up behind us. Keep the Glocks and extra mags in case you have visitors. Give someone else those long guns.” Pena paused and added, “And between you and Heisman, get me that truck.” He pointed at the screen, which displayed the casino on the promenade deck.
“Yes, sir,” Fisher said.
“Right. Let’s move,” Pena said.
Jerry smiled as he followed Pena out of the room. The Tesla Cybertruck was both silent and fairly bulletproof. It would get them most of the way down the wide-open promenade, which happened to be on the same deck as the armory.
In silence and with precision, the team moved through the decks, using the Captain’s pass to unlock doors to hidden stairwells.
When they emerged on deck five, they paused before entering the promenade.
So many signs, banners, lights, distractions.
So many hiding places. He looked up. This design resembled a small-town main street, featuring second floors on the building facades.
Any one of those windows could hide a sniper.
Moving as one, they walked low and steady, maintaining a three-hundred-sixty-five-degree lookout, and made it to the entrance of the casino, crouching behind the Cybertruck.
Less than three minutes later, Fisher’s voice came through Jerry’s earbuds.
“Wi-fi is up. Heisman says the truck’s all yours. ”
“Roger,” Pena said in a low voice.
Jerry moved to the side of the truck and froze, his tongue going dry as a coppery panic taste filled his mouth.
On the ground next to the Cybertruck lay a white high-heeled sandal.
With yellow leather daisies across the toe.
And blood covering the heel.
“Olive,” he whispered, bending down to pick it up. He saw her in his mind, twirling in her dress, then showing him these shoes.