Chapter 3 #2
Through the radio in his ear, Mustang heard his team reporting the all-clear as they moved about the ship.
No one was on the outside decks, which made for a quick and silent trip to the bridge.
As he and Slate approached the rear of the ship, he saw Midas and Aleck already hunkered down, waiting for their arrival.
The four of them would storm onto the bridge from starboard.
Pid and Jag would hang back on the port side, out of the line of fire, in case any of the pirates attempted to flee the bridge on their side.
Mustang moved around his teammates, not reluctant in the least to take point. He held up his hand and counted down from three. He heard Slate say “go” through the radio even as he swung the heavy metal battering ram they’d lugged onboard for the sole purpose of knocking down the door to the bridge.
It flew open with one hit, and the four men poured into the space, overwhelming the two pirates who were inside.
The first reached for the rifle hanging around his body, but never had a chance to get ahold of it. Mustang’s bullet pierced his head and he fell to the floor without a sound.
The other man immediately turned and went for the door on the opposite side of the room, firing blindly behind him as he ran. Mustang and the rest of the team took cover behind whatever they could. The man ran out the door and two shots rang out, indicating that Pid and Jag had done their job.
The entire operation was over within seconds.
Standing, Mustang surveyed the bridge. There were six men, obviously dead, lying in a heap along the back wall. Even though they weren’t wearing uniforms, Mustang knew they were the captain and his officers. That meant there were still sixteen Asaka Express employees onboard.
“Only two?” Midas asked as he entered the bridge with Aleck.
“Yes,” Mustang agreed.
“Fuck. That means there’s probably still a handful of them wandering around then,” Midas said.
Mustang’s belly rolled. Normally he wouldn’t care so much, might have even looked forward to the cat-and-mouse game they were about to engage in.
But he felt differently now, knowing Rachel was onboard.
The thought of her being hurt, or killed, was unacceptable.
He’d briefly checked in with her another time or two before sundown.
Probably less than an hour’s worth of conversation, all told, since her first hail.
And she’d somehow made this mission personal for him, which wasn’t something he’d ever experienced before.
He wanted to know her better. Know what made her tick.
“Should we use the intercom to inform the employees we’re here?” Jag asked.
Mustang pressed his lips together. On one hand, it would be a morale booster for everyone to know help was at hand, but on the other, he didn’t want to inform the pirates they were aboard…
and he didn’t want anyone to let down their guard and possibly get shot before their team could hunt the pirates.
“I think no, not yet,” Mustang said after a beat.
“We could use channel three, the one Rachel said the crew uses to communicate,” Slate suggested.
Mustang nodded. It wasn’t perfect, but it might prevent the employees from mistakenly thinking they were the bad guys. There was no way of knowing if anyone would be listening, but it was the only way they had to communicate with the crew without tipping off the pirates.
He pulled out his radio and turned to channel three. “Asaka Express crew, this is a representative of the US Navy. We have secured the bridge and will be sweeping the ship for tangos. For the moment, stay where you are. I repeat, stay where you are.”
Mustang nodded at Slate, who he heard reporting back to the USS Paul Hamilton.
He knew, after the bridge and outer decks had been cleared, the plan was for additional personnel to come aboard to help secure the ship.
Not only that, but because the cargo ship was floating adrift, they were sending someone who could pilot the large ship so it hopefully wouldn’t run aground.
Slate and Jag would stay on the bridge to keep it secure.
If any of the pirates returned, they would take them out.
Pid and Aleck would patrol the outer decks until backup could arrive and take over.
For now, it would be only Midas and Mustang patrolling the lower decks.
They’d work as a team, searching room by room for the missing pirates.
It was disconcerting that they didn’t know how many men they were looking for, but ultimately it didn’t matter.
They’d find them all and make sure they weren’t a threat any longer.
“Stay in contact,” Mustang told his team unnecessarily.
They all nodded. Their team leader wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t already know.
Mustang once again took point as he and Midas headed for the door that led to a set of stairs right outside the bridge.
The second the door closed behind them, they were plunged into darkness.
It was dark on the bridge and outer decks, but with the stars and moon overhead, they’d still had a bit of light.
Being in the interior of the ship afforded absolutely no ambient light whatsoever.
Pulling the night-vision goggles over his eyes, Mustang gave himself a moment to adjust to the green world that suddenly appeared through his lenses. Then he slowly began to walk down the stairs toward the first floor they had to clear.
This was obviously where the officers’ and the captain’s rooms were. The doors were all open and the rooms had been ransacked. Drawers had been emptied and the men’s belongings were strewn all over the floor of each room. The pirates had searched for anything worth stealing.
Anger welled up inside Mustang. He’d seen a lot of awful things in his time as a SEAL, but nothing got him more riled up than needless violence and death.
The pirates didn’t have to kill the men up on the bridge.
They could’ve locked them inside one of these rooms if they wanted to make sure they didn’t get in the way of their mission.
But instead, they’d ruthlessly snuffed out innocent lives.
Midas and Mustang found no evidence of any pirates on the first floor and made sure to lock and close each of the doors after they’d searched the rooms. The last thing they wanted was someone sneaking back up here and hiding out, forcing the SEALs to re-clear the area.
The next floor looked much the same as the previous, individual living quarters that had been ransacked.
Mustang and Midas painstakingly made their way through each room, checking every nook and cranny for anyone who might be hiding out, then locking and closing the doors.
They reported back to the others, informing them of their progress.
Mustang itched to reach out to Rachel, but he didn’t dare. He concentrated on the job at hand, and could only hope she was lying low, safe, wherever she’d decided to hole up.
Elodie cursed herself. Why had she left her hiding space?
Because she was stupid, that was why. She hadn’t heard anything in so long and had needed to use the bathroom.
She figured it was safe enough—but she’d been wrong.
The second she’d come out of the small restroom next to the officers’ mess, she’d heard someone in the galley.
For just a second, she’d had the hope that it was Scott and his team. That the Navy SEALs had finally arrived and everyone was safe. But then she’d heard the man muttering in a foreign language and knew she was in deep shit.
She froze, looking around for a place to hide.
But the officers’ mess had nothing in it but a long table and chairs.
There weren’t any cabinets or any other place to hide.
She could go back into the bathroom, but she’d be a sitting duck in there.
And she’d already been lucky whoever was in the kitchen didn’t seem to have heard her exiting the small room.
If she could make it to the officers’ pantry, she might be able to get into one of the lower cabinets, but the pirate would definitely hear her moving around.
Elodie panicked. Any second, she was going to be seen. The man would walk into this room and find her there. The only thing she had going for her was that it was dark. She wanted to kiss whichever engineer below deck who’d had the great idea to turn off the electricity.
An idea struck her then. It was risky as hell, and if she made any noise, she’d surely be caught, but at the moment, she literally had no other options.
Moving slowly, she felt her way around the large oval table in the middle of the room.
Elodie moved the chairs on the far side so they were a little closer together, making sure not to scrape the legs against the tile floor.
When she thought they were positioned where she wanted them, she got down on her hands and knees and crawled under the table.
She’d never been so thankful that whoever had furnished the ship had been too cheap to get chairs with armrests.
When the man in the other room seemed to finish whatever he was doing in the galley, she heard him enter the officers’ pantry. He was only one room away from her right now, and she knew if she’d gone into that room to try to hide, she would’ve been caught.
Barely breathing, Elodie eased herself up onto the row of chairs she’d pushed together, under the table.
Her belly was resting on one chair, her upper chest on another, her legs on a third.
Stretched out flat, she held her breath as the pirate ransacked the cabinets.
She had no idea what he was looking for, all that was in there was food and supplies, but he seemed to be taking great pleasure in throwing stuff on the floor and breaking bottles.