***
A short distance from the giant cargo ship, Bordeaux cut the engine, allowing the small boat to drift idly toward its target. The rest of us were crouched low in the boat, weapons at the ready. Making contact with the ship, Wang attached a small, but powerful, magnet to the hull, securing a rope between it and the CRRC and anchoring them together. Next, Santino took an old fashioned grappling hook, a device left relatively unchanged in design since the Romans, and flung it over the edge of the railing. Giving it a quick tug, making sure it caught, he turned toward McDougal and smiled.
McDougal nodded and pointed up. Santino returned the nod and started his ascent, Vincent not far behind him, ready to take point. A few agonizing minutes later, Santino transmitted the all clear double click over the radio.
Wang, Bordeaux and McDougal followed. Once their feet cleared the railing, Helena started up after them, leaving me to deal with our little boat.
Making sure I had a firm grip on the rope, I pulled out a stopper holding the air within the inflated ring around the boat, allowing water to flow aboard. Within seconds, the boat started to sink, engine and all. Normally, SEALs would take their CRRC ashore and hide it, but our mission parameters made that difficult. When it was almost fully submerged, I detached the line attached to the magnet and pocketed the anchor.
Quickly pulling myself up the rope, I reached the railing, swung my feet over the edge and dropped quietly to the deck. I pulled up the rope, collapsed the grappling hook, and handed it off to Santino, who efficiently reattached it to the appropriate spot on the back of his rig. As the team’s lead scout, he traveled light. His rig was more of a harness than a vest and was lightly burdened, with only magazines, a few tools, the grappling hook and rope, and a rather nasty looking knife that belonged in a Rambo movie. He had a small pack attached to his back, containing his computer hooked up to his eyepiece, and as our scout, he was in control of a small aerial drone that Vincent carried on his back.
The UAV was basically a small helicopter, its circumference no more than that of large dinner plate. It consisted of three helicopter blades that jutted out from the circular chassis to create a three points of a triangle. It was extremely quiet, almost invisible, and very effective. It carried high resolution cameras outfitted with night vision and thermal lenses for use in the dark and could climb a thousand feet in the air. It was solar charged, had an effective radius of two miles, and had the shelf life of a Twinkie.
As soon as Santino secured his grappling hook to his rig, he crept forward while Vincent kept pace with him. Santino could tip toe over broken light bulbs to sneak up on a prowling panther if he had to, so I wondered if Vincent would have trouble keeping up, but the man was a veteran and knew what he was doing. He’d keep up. Besides, Santino could easily peel off on his own if McDougal thought it necessary. He probably preferred going lone wolf anyway, with nothing but a knife in his teeth and streaks of blood on his cheeks.
As he crept forward, the rest of us followed at a safe distance. I was rearguard in the formation, checking our six constantly to keep our rear secure. Thankfully, everyone must have been asleep as we didn’t run across a soul. After a quick stroll over the deck of the ship, we came across the stacked cargo containers.
Santino pulled down his night vision goggles to scan the containers. According to intelligence, our local contact had tagged those going to the terrorists’ stronghold with infrared paint, invisible to the naked eye, but brilliantly luminescent under night vision.
Santino pointed to three containers, the first of which we inspected was conveniently only half full, but still a tight squeeze for any swim pair. It was a good thing I wasn’t paired with Bordeaux, since we were the two biggest guys on the team. He was with Wang, who was the smallest, but McDougal would be with them too, making for a tight fit.
Granted, being in such close proximity to Helena probably wouldn’t be the most comfortable thing either – only for far different reasons.
I made sure not to look at Santino, who I knew would never give up an opportunity to screw with me. I was saved from my embarrassment when I saw him moving off to the side of the ship. He looked for an infrared beacon that would point out our contact’s position and would send a return signal to alert the local resistance to our presence.
McDougal pointed to Vincent and then a container, then Helena and a container. They nodded and headed toward their assignments while I followed Helena. She opened our container and we peered inside, noticing it was even less spacious than the last. Looking at each other, I gave her a shrug.
“After you, ma’am,” I whispered.
She gave me an indignant look, but went inside all the same. She studied the layout, but after a few seconds, decided the best position that kept her close to the exit and comfortable was for me to go in first and have the two of us basically lie in a spooning position. I sighed as I climbed in, wishing I could have at least been on the inside of the position. With luck, I wouldn’t need my tight wet suit to confine my dignity. As Helena tucked in beside me, I tried to focus on things other than my lovely swim buddy, but a quick memory of her leaning over in her wetsuit earlier distracted me.
I shook my head. Get your mind out of the gutter, Hunter.
There was nothing I could do to avoid the awkwardness but take the initiative and make the first smart ass comment. “Keep your hands to yourself, Strauss, we’re on a mission.”
She couldn’t turn to look at me as she shut the door, securing it from the inside, but I knew she must have been fuming. “Don’t get any funny ideas, Lieutenant. Remember, I’m supposed to be covering your ass on this mission.”
Ouch, the innuendo was killing me.
“Well, just don’t take a nap, you’re going to need some fancy moves to get out of this thing.”
“Is that a hint of concern I hear in your voice, Lieutenant?”
“Well, umm, no,” I stuttered. “Just offering unsolicited advice. I’m sure you love that.”
“Funny. But don’t worry,” she consoled. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had to jump out of a moving vehicle.”
That sounded like an interesting story, but it seemed best to just shut up at this point, no sense rising to the bait.
“Listen.” She whispered before I could come up with a witty retort. “The crew is getting ready to put us in the truck.”
I hadn’t heard, but after she mentioned it, I craned my neck and did in fact notice the obvious clanking sound of machinery.
She had good ears, I had to give her that. Having good eyes wasn’t everything for a sniper, ears were important too, especially when people snuck up on you. She probably carried a myriad of motion sensors and fisheye cameras that she could hook up to doors, ladders, or any other entry to guard her back, as well. If the sensors were tripped, a 3D map of her location would be displayed on her eyepiece to show where her sensor was triggered, then fisheye cams would give her visual confirmation.
Clever little gadgets.
I knew she also had a few claymores as well, which she could set up as a last line of defense. These she could set for either proximity detonation, when someone tripped the lasers, or for manual detonation.
But even with all those toys, it always helped to have sharp ears.
As our containers were loaded into the truck, Helena and I tossed and bumped into each other uncomfortably. Once our container was finally secured, the truck started to speed away down the road. I checked my watch and hoped the dock boss waited until later this morning before he started asking questions about why a half dozen containers were loaded at one in the morning and mysteriously transported away. I also hoped the guards around town didn’t ask any questions either.
Currently, my eyepiece showed real time imagery from the Argos II Reconnaissance Satellite orbiting above us. Each member of the team had a wrist implant that we received from our respective militaries upon completion of basic training. They pr
ovided a few functions, but were currently used as locator beacons that showed up as pulsating dots on my screen. Seven of these dots were currently spread out in a line, pulsing green, indicating life signs were nominal. Another nice function of Santino’s UAV was that it not only provided aerial imagery, but also updated the locator beacons’ positions as well as our vital signs. It allowed for continuous data updates even if every single satellite somehow spontaneously went off line.
Manipulating the small joystick that extended from my wrist sheath, I zoomed out on the image to show our position and where we were heading. Using two small buttons, I traced a line from our position to the enemy cave, and had the computer calculate the distance. A half second later, the computer estimated we were about six miles from our target destination. Helena would be jumping off about a mile out, finding a good spot to cover us.
The map also showed a green square deep inside the city. I clicked on it only to realize it was probably our equipment cache. As a precaution, I had the computer calculate the fastest route from our target location to the cache, mapping it out with straight red lines, with blue flashing dots as waypoints. Once it showed up on my screen, I saved it and filed it away in case we needed it in the future.
I retracted the joystick on my wrist sheath and opened the protective flap away from my forearm with my other hand, awkwardly maneuvering it around Helena’s form. It revealed a small touch screen about half the length of my forearm, a display peripheral for the computer stowed in my back pouch. I called up a simplified E-mail system, meant to send small packets of information that worked with Santino’s UAV. The information we sent to one another was coded, and nearly impossible to crack. I quickly typed in Cave -> Cache, attached the file, and sent the data containing our escape route on its way.
“Nice thinking, Lieutenant,” Helena said a few seconds later. “It’ll be good to have this in a pinch if things get nasty.”
“You being nice to me, Strauss?”
“No. Just keeping you honest.”
“Right. So, you ready to jump? Looks like we’re almost there.”
“Yeah. I just called up the info on my eyepiece. I’m ready to go.”
“Good. Just, umm, well, you know… be careful.”
She was silent. She knew I was serious. Combat was tough, both physically and mentally, no matter how experienced an operator you are.
“Thank you, Jacob,” she said quietly. “To be honest, I’m a little nervous. I’ve been in the field many times before, but something just feels wrong about this one. Like there’s something we’re missing.”
No kidding, but there was no sense telling her I felt the same way. I didn’t want to add to her discomfort, so I stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue.
I felt her shift in her position. “But don’t worry, I’ll cover your back. We’ll get through this with no problem, and be back in Rome in a few hours listening to Santino complain about something. Hey, maybe we’ll get a little down time. What better place to be based out of than Rome?”
I felt the same way.
“You be careful too, Jacob,” she said, finishing her thoughts. “I’m just starting to like you, and I’d hate to have to make Santino my new best friend on the team.”
I had to laugh at that. She’d soon realize that, really, he could be as best a friend as they came.
“I will.”
A few minutes later, she started shifting again, ready to disembark the vehicle.
“Well, Lieutenant, if you’re quite done… what is it you Americans say… ‘spooning me,’ I’m ready to go.”
I coughed but recovered quickly.
“Don’t worry, Strauss. I’ve had better.”
“Ooh, you’ll pay for that one.”
I laughed. “Just get out of here,” I said with a gentle nudge.
“Good luck,” she said, opening one of the double doors.
“You too.”
Taking a deep breath, she clutched her rifle close and leapt out into the darkness. She hit the ground roughly, rolled twice, and came up on a knee. She immediately slung her rifle and pulled her P90 from its secure location on her back all in one fluid motion.
I spared a wide eyed look for just a moment. That had been damn impressive. I shut the door as quickly as I could, surrounding myself in darkness once again, this time alone. It was more nerve wracking than I thought it would be. I tried to comfort myself by slowly stretching myself out in the more expansive space I now had.
I kept close watch on my eyepiece, watching the green dot that was Helena slowly move off into the narrow alleyways of the town. She would be fine. I shouldn’t dwell on her. It would only lead to distraction. I zoomed in the view on my eyepiece so it only encompassed the grouping of green dots surrounding my own, eliminating Helena’s position from view. If something happened to her, the computer would let me know.
The Last Roman (The Praetorian Series - Book I) Page 26
