The Last Roman (The Praetorian Series - Book I)
Page 21
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A few hours later, the team assembled in the armory, the first time I had seen everyone congregated in the small room at one time. Each member of the team was going through their equipment and checking their weapons. Wang with his UMP submachine gun, McDougal with a G36C assault rifle, Bordeaux with the Mk 48 Mod 0 version of the M249 SAW light machine gun which fired the larger 7.62x51mm round, and Vincent had an M4 carbine. Santino had an HK416, similar to mine.
Strauss was preparing two weapons. A German made AMP Technical Services DSR-1 was her primary rifle. It was an efficient sniper rifle that fired the same large round as Bordeaux’s SAW, but while not as handy in a large scale firefight, it was obviously far more accurate. McDougal had informed her that a M107 .50 caliber Barrett sniper rifle, similar to the one she and I had trained with earlier, was waiting at the weapons cache.
I again wondered at the purpose of such a cache, especially one containing such a powerful rifle…
Whatever. Out of sight, out of mind. At least hopefully.
Her second weapon was a Belgian engineered FN P90 personal defense weapon. Preferred by tank and helicopter operators, its compact bull pup design gave it more range than another weapon of comparable size, and its large magazine size and high velocity round made it ideal for personal protection.
As for me, I already had my rifle secure and my wetsuit on, and was just completing preparations on my re-breather gear well ahead of everyone else.
The Draeger Mk V breathing apparatus had been standard issue for SEALs for over thirty years, its design and function so effective. Instead of regular scuba gear, where a wearer breathes from an isolated oxygen source, the Mk V recycles the air breathed. With it, I could remain submerged beneath an enemy dock for the better part of a day, as long as I kept my breathing under control. The new Mk VI, developed only a few years ago, merely needed to have its internals cleaned as opposed to having them replaced, an operation one can do in the field.
As I waited, I made sure to avoid looking at Helena in her wetsuit, which was harder than it sounded. I was fairly certain we were friends at this point, but I didn’t want to risk offending her again, as much as I wanted to in this case. The rest of the team was likewise averting their eyes. After all, women in the Special Forces were still a rather new concept, and one wearing a wetsuit was completely novel. I glanced at Santino beside me, who returned the look with a knowing smile.
Shaking my head, I completed my preparations by packing my MOLLE rig into a water tight bag and giving the locker a final look-over. Everything was secure and ready to go. My rifle was secure in its waterproof bag and the rest of my equipment was stored in another waterproof bag.
With a breath of satisfaction, I reached for the laces of my black waterproof boots, but my thoughts continued to stray toward that equipment cache. Something just did not click with this mission. In all the years I’d been in the field, I had never been provided with additional gear to help out if things got bad. Sure, I’d raided the enemy’s supplies numerous times, but I’d never been given this kind of support.
Maybe working for the Pope had more advantages than I thought.
Tying off my second boot, I stood and turned to see if my lovely swim buddy needed a hand but was interrupted by McDougal’s commanding voice. “All right everybody, we’re leaving in ten. Get your gear and meet up at the airlock.”
I shouldered my gear bag and hefted the rest of my gear, noticing Helena was already finished.
“Ready, Lieutenant?” she asked.
I waved a hand toward the door. “Lead the way, ma’am.”