Mischief Island

by Robert Lance

  Alamo Jones was afflicted with having too many while making a pretense of fidelity at his duty stations. Aside from being a SEAL, he was very rich and very handsome, which made him a chic magnet. He didn’t take rejection lightly. His obsession with his former wife had cost him a slap on the wrist, “undue abuse of command authority with a subordinate.” Still, it cost him a promotion cycle. He bristled at the charge on his record. His love/hate relationship with Lieutenant Heather Cummins tilted toward hate. In front of him was the opportunity to destroy her career as a naval officer.

  Ted couldn’t shake the fact that he and Alamo had a robust friendship that sustained them over many deadly ops over the years. Alamo helped get him out of his funk when Julie left him. Yet in all that time, he had never heard about a former wife, a blip on his record, or a propensity toward violence. In fact, Alamo’s former lovers pined for him long after he moved on.

  The unspoken credo of the SEALs was never let a woman become a distraction to life as a SEAL…No woman, not a wife, mother, or whore. Ted was on the edge of burning his SEAL trident over a woman he’d just met. Could he dial back his outrage? He reconciled that Gregory would get Heather into better accommodations that were more public. He had to get his head into the mission. Heather could wait. Had to wait. She was right.

  Domino and Carole were both laying flat on their back at dock’s edge. They were squirming and breathing hard. Fitzgerald and Gates were hazing them as if they were tadpoles on their first day of BUDS. Alamo sat on the stern of the Ghost, seemingly oblivious of the hazing. His eagle eyes followed Ted, looking for a trace of insolence. Ted and Perry stepped over the two exhausted female divers and approached the stern of the Ghost. Alamo had the studied expression of a predator ready to strike.

  Ted forced himself to speak. “What’s on the agenda, Alamo?”

  There was a long pause, deliberately tense. “Everything up top okay?”

  “As far as I know, yeah. We taking the bat mobile out?”

  Alamo stepped to the dock. “We’re going out into the deep blue sea and check you two out on the dive locker. Sweet Pea and Green Bean are coming with us as soon as they get over the sniffles. Get your gear on board.”

  Perry said, “I’m coming in my pants. This is so fuckin’ cool.”

  “Get up ladies, we’re going for a boat ride.” Alamo stepped over the two groaning women to collect his dive gear.

  The team was huddled around the cockpit watching the Ghost silently leave the cavern opening. Slinky began lowering the vessel to snorkel level and then submerged into the open sea ahead of them. The Ghost bucked against the wave action, then smoothly motored a mile off shore. Willer ordered Slinky to configure to patrol mode, and the ship rose from the water. A minute later the jets began to idle, and Slinky launched Kitty. The SEALs found themselves in a whole new realm.

  It was Beetle’s turn to show off. He opened the weapons bay lower doors. “We’re configured with twin 20mil Vulcan cannons and a pair of rocket launchers with 28 armor piercing rockets. Both weapons are remotely fired from my station.” He grinned broadly. “Watch your fingers around the bay doors and stand back. See the flashing red light? When it turns solid you have ten seconds to get out of the way.” Beetle toggled a switch, and the light began to blink. Ten seconds later the ceiling opened up and the weapons platform descended into the bay, like the gear falling out of an airplane. Beetle said, “You’ll become very proficient in arming and disarming each weapon system. We also have Griffin fire and forget missiles that you will also learn to configure in your sleep.” Beetle was proud as he observed the befuddled look on the SEALs’ faces. “Preferably we’ll configure in the patrol mode and work our way to the cruise mode.”

  Fitzgerald, a munitions freak asked, “Where do you store the ordinance?”

  Beetle winked at him. “Ballast. It’s under your feet in the ordinance locker in the hull.”

  “Are you shittin’ me?” Perry asked. “There’s enough fire power on this baby to take on the whole Chinese Navy. Holy shit.”

  “The whole idea is not to have to use it, but yeah, we can out run them and blow them out of the water at the same time. Nobody really wants to piss us off.”

  While Beetle was giving the SEALs on the job training in the weapons bay, Alamo had corralled the WO’s and sat Domino behind a console directly abeam of Slinky. “This will be your work station. Some of it you recognize. Your job will be to encrypt data and uplink it to our command and control on Palawan.—.”

  “Why can’t we uplink through SAT?”

  “Don’t interrupt, Carole.”

  “It’s not a stupid question, Alamo.” Carole was not afraid of Alamo. He was creeping around in her world, and besides that, she was still pissed off from the hazing session in the grotto.

  His voice was hard and reluctant. “One; we won’t have SAT coverage. Two; if we did, we don’t know the Chinese ability to hack in and pinpoint the signal origin. Does that answer your stupid question?”

  Carole rolled her eyes and glanced at Domino. She did the same.

  Alamo continued, “We reinvented ultra low frequency comm into a miniaturized capsule for short wave transmission. The data reliability is comparable to SAT. We are intentionally range limited to local broadcast reception that coincides with our patrol range of four hundred kilometers.

  Domino said, “We’re familiar with the technology. It’s not what it’s cracked up to be.”

  “It is now. You’ll be able to transmit and receive as if the message was never sent, just like a sub.”

  Carole said, “Where have you been Alamo? The age of hand cranked radios and buggy whips left the planet a long time ago. We work in intel, or do you not get that?”

  “Did I insult you?”

  “Sorta.”

  “Well, smart ass. Do you know how to integrate with the brain synapse of the USS Enterprise?”

  “If you get out of the way we’ll set up a probe and test the system integrity with C and C on Palawan.” Domino said.

  Alamo pursed his lips. “There’s another reason for having you aboard. You may be called upon to translate Mandarin, transcribe it, and encrypt it.”

  “We have an automated board at Palawan that can do that.”

  “Pretend you’re three feet away in the middle of a fucking fire fight listening in on direct orders of a pissed off Chinese Captain, and you’ve got three seconds to get my boys out of tight spot. It could get to that level.”

  “You’re not joking.” Carole said.

  “Does that mean we get our Budweiser Trident?” Domino asked.

  “No, but you will get combat pay. Gear up; we’re going for a moonlight swim. Domino, you buddy with Perrotte, and Carole, you get to ride Perry’s ass.”

  Alamo stepped away and raised his voice so everyone could hear him. “Strap in boys and girls. We’re going to cruise speed for a ten mile detour up the coast to Ipatdan Beach to practice hard landings, then were going to assault the beach with flippers on.

  The excitement in the Ghost split in two opposing directions. The seals were mesmerized, but the women were mortified.

  The Ghost reached its cruising speed with the SEALs whooping it up the bay. Feet were tapping and arms were flailing like spectators at a NASCAR track. Perry yelled at Willer. “Pedal to the metal, Wayne.”

  Wayne cracked a grin and said, “Sprint speed, Slinky.”

  In seas of six to ten feet swells, the fast boat jumped the blocks with a slight degradation in the ride. Willer spoke over the PA. “How is that, me maties?” Wild cheers echoed and a new era of fast boat SEALs were going to war in comfort and style. After a few minutes of fifty plus knots, Willer and Slinky slowed to cruise speed and set a course to Ipatdan Beach.

  The hard landing on the beach head was little more than a docking exercise. A ramp dropped on pristine sand and the SEALs went ashore, dry feet. The team assembled to celebrate. Even Alamo was in a good mood. He asked no one in particular. “Would it be insider tr
ading if I bought stock in the company that manufactured this master craft?”

  Gates said, “We could pool our money.”

  Perry said, “Are you kidding? This is the most tricked out party-barge in the world.”

  Fitzgerald had to say something. “Shit, if this is the wave of the future, sign me up for fast boat deployments. I think we should christen the Ghost, “Alamo’s Goat Locker.”

  Domino skipped down the ramp, with her head down, staring at her palm device. “Hey, come check this out. I captured you clowns knuckle dragging in the bay, encrypted it and sent it to Palawan. They sent a return encrypted greeting.” She held her device so Wayne could see it.

  “What the hell? Is that what I think it is?” Wayne burst out laughing.

  Domino giggled. “The night crew is mooning us.” She went around showing the images off.

  Alamo said, “Make dam sure that doesn’t ping back to the fleet.”

  Domino put her hand over her mouth and said, “Oh, shit, Alamo. I think we’re in a lot of trouble.”

  His head went skyward, and his jaw parted. Then he closed his eyes. “Fuck me dead. If Singleton sees this, which he will, I’m losing the bar I just got. Fun’s over.”

  “You’ve got a bigger problem than that.” Carole said. “That’s probably going to be on the president’s desk in the morning.”

  Alamo’s physical reaction was as if he’d been harpooned. His knees buckled and he staggered forward a few paces. His howl was barely distinguishable. “What did you dooo to me?”

  Carole’s reply was laced with an acid tone, mocking him. “Don’t blame me. You set the protocols. All encrypted messages stay encrypted all the way to Fort Meade, SECDEF Eyes Only.” Carole’s harsh laughter carried down the beach. The beach was so quiet one could hear sand crabs fuck.

  Alamo regained his composure and said. “Everyone back on the boat. Willer, skull us out into open water. We need to find out how stable the dive platform is in rough seas.”

  Willer said, “Are you sure you want to do this at night? We’ve got all day tomorrow to iron out any kinks.”

  “Do what you’re told, Willer.” Alamo stomped off toward the Ghost.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Domino took her seat next to her assigned dive buddy. She teasingly batted her eyes at Ted. “How would you like to have a girlfriend for life?”

  Ted laughed. “Right now that’s the last thing I need, but say I did, what would I have to do?”

  “Just don’t drown me. Please. I’m being honest. I don’t think I have the strength to do this by myself.”

  “I’ll admit Alamo was a bit rough on you back at the grotto. Goes with the territory.”

  “Is he always like this in the field?”

  “Worse. No one fucks with Alamo.”

  “I know Alamo fairly well. Do you think his punishment has anything to do with me warning you and LT at the grotto? I’m sure he saw me.”

  “Absolutely not. Just because you’re a woman, you can’t expect any slack. You wanna quit?”

  “Thinking about it.”

  He smiled at her in a patronizing way. “I’ll be your boyfriend. Think of it as a leisure romantic swim. I’ll have you all the way.”

  “Promise?”

  He nodded. “We do this all the time. It’s called a technical dive, but we refer to it as an escort dive. Sometimes it’s friendly, and sometimes it’s not.”

  “What’s not friendly about it?”

  “You’re familiar with snatch and grab missions. We move bad guys from place to place, and we don’t really give a shit if they can flipper or not. They’re alive while in our not so gentle hands. If they get themselves dead, it isn’t our fault.”

  “Tell me about the friendly escort.”

  “Did you bring any condoms with you?”

  She poked him, and chuckled. “Next time.”

  “We get missions where we need bobble heads to do things beyond our skill set, spies, demolition experts, camera crews, sometimes VIPs who don’t have travel documents. Aside from that, there’s hostage rescue missions where the victims are stressed, panicked, and traumatized at the prospect of going into the water.” He laughed. “There was this one time when we brought out a very prominent Columbian Family connected to a drug lord under witness protection in the states. The wife wanted to get naked before I got my fins off.”

  “Did you?”

  “Tempted. I was married at the time.”

  “Would it help if I got naked?”

  “You’re pushing it, Domino. Let’s talk about how we can make this easy for both of us.”

  They talked while the Ghost began to sink below the waves. “Pamela” was doing a good job keeping the level constant, but wave top action caused a swaying motion. Slinky thought he had a fix for the problem by extending the snorkel and antennae buoy. That would have to wait until the techs could work the problem, but in the meantime, they were restricted to submersible limits of the onboard oxygen generators. They had two hours and were limited to one dive sequence. Alamo insisted they continue the drill. They were delayed because it was necessary to retrieve Kitty or risk losing the drone. Their detection capabilities dropped dramatically, and they’d have to rely on sonar sensors.

  Willer was cautious with his deliberations and thought it best to abort the dive, but Alamo was driven. Over confident was an understatement.

  It was a hurry-up drill, and the teams quickly donned gear and went through their buddy checks. Gates thought it would be a good idea to let the ladies sit the dive out, but was overruled. Alamo said, “Change of plans. Perry, WO French will buddy with me. Perrotte and Domino lead off, followed by Gates and Fitzgerald. I’ll bring up the rear.”

  Perrotte glared at Gates, who passed it on to Fitzgerald, then to Perry. This was not how it was done. The team always assembled and flipped as a unit. Someone had to say something, and it was left to Perrotte. “Alamo, what’s the point of swimming to the beach? We could loiter here and check off that square.”

  Alamo responded. “If we’re going to find a weak link, we’re going to find it now. I want all of you at the top of your game.”

  “But—.”

  “Hit the locker, Perrote. You’re wasting time.”

  Domino must have seen the conflict, and her eyes darted around with renewed fear. Perrotte gave her a hard shove and said, “You’re going to have to show me how to work the swim door.”

  The inner door closed and locked. The confined space was a tight fit and water began to spill while Domino fumbled with her Draeger apparatus. In two minutes the lock filled and equalized to sea pressure beyond the outer door. Domino checked the inner door before throwing the unlocking arm and jerking the latch handle on the outer door. The door opened like the exit on an airliner. The two swam free of the lock, but the job was half finished. She had to close the outer door in a reverse manner, then evacuate the chamber. With the constant swaying of the Ghost, it was more difficult than it appeared, She finished and gave Ted two thumbs up. The couple surfaced and turtled in place. She grabbed onto his web belt to keep the wave action from separating them.

  Ted dropped his Draeger mask and shouted at her. “You ready?” She shook her head vigorously. “Remember what I said about locking like I’m a dolphin?” She nodded again. Okay, when you feel me start stroking, you do the same.”

  He put his Draeger back in his mouth, adjusted his buoyancy and checked hers. She began to submerge, allowing her hand and arm to slide over Ted’s buttocks and thrust her arm through his legs. She solidly locked around his right upper thigh. Ted reached back, tapped her on the head, and began a gentle stroke toward an unseen beach.

  Ted and Domino reached the beach in less than thirty minutes. They dropped fins, web belt, and removed their tanks without saying a word to each other. Domino laid flat on her back on the sand.

  “You okay?” Ted asked.

  “That wasn’t too difficult at all. I am a little tired. How about you?”
r />   “My nut sack is screaming at me. Was it necessary to give me an emergency vasectomy?”

  She laughed until tears came to her eyes. She said, “Hey, I was hanging onto anything that is marked Ted parts. I did not grab your…nut sack.”

  “I lied. You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”

  “I just need to get a second wind. How are we going to find that tiny sub in that big ocean?”

  “We have a homing device with GPS backup. You’d have to be dumber than a squid to miss it.”

  She planted her elbows and half way sat up. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Not sure, how I will answer it, but shoot.”

  There was something off back there in the bay. What was all that about?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Do you think Carole will be okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t she be?”

  “Alamo was pretty pissed off at the prank we pulled on him.”

  “Prank—? That’s not something you ever joke about, Domino.” He knew what she was asking and why. “Alamo is cool. I’ve seen him snatch a bad ass that had just killed one of our guys, and you have no idea how badly you want to drown the bastard, gut him, and leave him as fish food. Alamo doesn’t roll that way. Not sure I’m that detached.”

  “I’m sorry, Ted. We wanted to get back at him for the way he treated us at the grotto.”

  Ted was pissed off, and it came out in his voice. “You want to pull a practical joke, you better be on dry land and wait until after the mission debrief. That kind of shit has no place on an op, practice or not. Fuck, Domino. That’ll get someone killed.”

  “It won’t happen again. Can I ask you something before the others get here?”

  “Make it fast.”

  “Have you seen LT since Alamo got here?”