Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  Denny and Jafar, who had flown ahead with The Sea Wolf, met us at the Corpus Christi Airport where we said goodbye for now to Laredo. Jafar drove our equipment van to the harbor where we boarded The Sea Wolf with Lucas threatening us all in the usual manner of torture, maiming, and death if the boat got even a scratch on it.

  After stowing our gear and showing the newly married Dostiene’s their master cabin, we checked out the supercharged twin diesels which made up the power to added weight ratio. Yes, Lucas, and I were checked out on everything of a mechanical nature aboard The Sea Wolf. To the unknowing, the Wolf appeared to be a slow moving, unwieldy pleasure yacht, but she could really move. With flip out fifty caliber machine gun nest on one side, and an XM307 25mm grenade airburst gun capable of firing 250 rounds per minute from its own flip out nest on the opposite side, we were one potent cruiser. We also stored for easy reach a hand held XM25 25mm airburst grenade launcher and my .50 caliber M107 sniper rifle – all of this in addition to our own personal weapons. Once well away from port, we’d try them all out

  We had a date to meet in utmost secrecy with our oil conglomerate representatives from Tampico Oil and Gas at coordinates opposite Tampico, Mexico, and beyond either the USA or Mexico’s territorial waters. Lucas captained the Wolf out of port the moment we finished the preliminary checks, and had our equipment stowed. This being October, we kept an open line to home base in Corpus Christi, where Denny kept us apprised of weather patterns, or anything out of the ordinary forming. At the moment, the skies were clear, and temperature in the mid-eighties. Because of our speed, and a slight chop in the water, Lucas got an earful from Lynn about making the Wolf cruise more comfortable. He laughed in her face. That led to a warning when she got queasy, Lynn planned on disgorging the contents of her stomach all over Lucas.

  Somehow, Lucas managed a more stable journey while cussing out Lynn nonstop for miles. We did not run across anyone once out beyond twelve miles. Maritime law was a tricky deal. Every country staked out their territorial waters, but the limits changed depending on whatever was going on at the time they decided to enforce something. Mexico had in the past confiscated fishing vessels and equipment off the Baja Peninsula for what amounted to be extortion money. We would know exactly where we were, and it didn’t matter who stopped us. The Wolf would not be taken by rogue government authorities acting like pirates or real pirates working the questionable waters in the Gulf.

  It had always been our plan to get in place a day ahead of our scheduled meeting for the express purpose of plotting where we were, and who became interested. There was no doubt the Cartel had informants everywhere at the Corpus Christi harbor. We had disguised our equipment so as not to seem like anything more than a crew going aboard for a lengthy voyage. Clint and Lynn, dressed accordingly, gave off the vibes in attitude of a couple used to being served, and did nothing to load the Wolf. We thought our playacting was done very well, but only time would tell. If our targets even had a bad feeling about us, they’d blow off the meeting.

  The signal Kalif had given us was being watched, but we didn’t depend on it. If it worked out, that would be great, but if it didn’t, we had to be ready. If they even for a moment suspected us to be a ship full of special ops agents, we’d be toast. Denny would warn us of anything incoming, and we had drone backup from Fort Benning. We liked our chances of freeing the captives, and ending this Cartel projection into the Gulf. What we didn’t know was whether they would buy our cover. If they ignored us, we were screwed.

  As we neared our chosen coordinates, the newly wedded Clint and Lynn did a comical rendition of the Titanic’s bow scene with Lucas piping out the movie theme song over our incredible audio system. Who says monsters can’t have a little fun and romance? The only bad part at this point in the mission is we can’t fish and have a few cocktails. We planned to take turns like we did when we went after the Somali pirates. Mostly though, this op had to be dealt with in deadly serious terms. After we reached our baiting area, Lucas put us on cruise to troll the scene in a wide circle route.

  We quickly went over our armaments and testing, going over each weapon with Lynn. She practiced diligently as we tested our pop out nests and targeting. Lucas and Jafar kept watch for anything on our military grade radar system. When we were certain Lynn had all the basics down, we showed her our M107 sniper rifle. We placed floating targets in the water, showing her the difficulty of targeting moving objects from a vessel. Lynn then took Jafar’s place with Lucas while he practiced. There would be no newbies on this mission, at least in theory. After our practice session, we adjourned to the cabin.

  I went over the weapon Denny had procured for helping us in taking live prisoners: an electronic pulse rifle capable of disabling all communications and electronics. It was actually a state of the art launcher with a heat seeking guidance system. Once launched, the missile would burst over the intended target, discharge, and float downward. This was to be its first usage in actual combat, because the people on board our target vessel would not be talking to anyone. Of course, Lucas objected to frying all the electronics on a potential addition to Admiral Ahab’s fleet.

  “You guys sure know how to show a girl a good time,” Lynn said. “This cruise has everything: mystery, danger, and badass weapons – all in a luxurious romantic setting. I want in on all future pirate actions, shipmates.”

  “I’m certain Denny has no intention of excluding you, babe,” Clint replied. “There may be some difficulty after this one until you become a Mommy.”

  Lynn sighed. “Yeah, we’ll have to tone my participation down slightly until Clint junior grows up a little, and we see if he has any monster genes. Besides, I want a little girl too.”

  “You two procreating is starting to frighten me,” Lucas commented to much laughter. “Hey, kid, did Samira allow you to know the gender of your offspring yet?”

  Jafar brightened up like a hundred watt light bulb. “We are having a daughter. Lynn and Clint’s son will of course not be allowed anywhere near her.”

  More laughter. Then we received incoming from Denny. Jafar had the satellite notebook propped on his lap. He hit the on button for our fifty inch screen, piping the Spawn into our conference channel. Denny smiled out at all of us.

  “Having fun kids? The banditos are heading your way. I trust you have all studied their craft. I’m relaying real time satellite data to Jafar now. They have fourteen crew members. We need prisoners as you know; but if it gets ugly, the hell with it. Nuke ‘em. The EMP launcher will take out everything they have but small arms. I still don’t want them raking you with machine gun fire. If Ahab survived, I’d end up staked out in the desert praying for death.”

  “You got that right. I’m going to feed you every slug I find embedded in my baby,” Lucas said.

  I chuckled at that threat, knowing it probably wasn’t quite an empty one. Lucas would certainly whine about every hit to the Wolf’s hull. “We’ll hit them with the EMP at distance, and follow up with the sniper rifle until we get a surrender. If they even look like they’re going to open up on us with anything big, Casey will rake their deck with the fifty.”

  “Good. We have a great thing going. I don’t want risks taken needlessly. We know where their rig is. This sea battle is so we can cut off communications, disable their major weapon, and make the assault on the rig easier. The prisoners are important for the info they have on the Cartel operation in the Gulf. If we attack the rig quickly enough, I’m hoping they won’t get any messages to where they’re holding our happy go lucky oil profiteers. That’s all I have for now. I’ll watch for anything weird. There’s a Reaper in the air on supposed maneuvers right now, but it’s armed, ready, and in striking distance. Captain Blood out.”

  “What’s with the Captain Blood sign off?”

  “It is from our last pirate adventure, Lynn,” Jafar replied. “We would finish doing something horrendous to many pirates. Then we would come back in here, call Captain Blood, and talk like pirates. It was v
ery entertaining… except for the pirates.”

  Lynn smiled, but remained silent. Then she shook her head. “And you guys think I’m a monster. So… you monsters wasted a whole bunch of poor helpless Somali pirates, gathered around for a Johnny Depp love in, complete with Arrrgh’s and Maties – all in an official murderous report to Captain Blood.”

  “Well… it seemed a bit more appropriate before you dissected it in such crude form, Cruella,” Casey retorted.

  I waved. “Battle-stations, maties, we’re about to make a whole bunch more pirates unhappy. What’ll it be, Case? You want the fifty in case they don’t comply, or the M107 for getting them in the mood to comply?”

  “Damn! Ah… hell, John, we have time. Let’s switch off.”

  That’s too much like playtime. “I don’t think so, Case. Even with Jafar doing spotter duty, it would take too much time. One lapse and we could eat some kind of rocket launch.”

  Casey nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I love the M2 fifty. With it, I can sight in to take out single targets anyway in case Jafar spots more imminent threats than you can handle safely, John. Let’s go over the plans we have on their boat in case I have to disable it.”

  “Hey,” Lynn exclaimed, “do we get to swing over onto their boat with blades in hand?”

  Clint hugged his bride and kissed her on the forehead. “There will be time enough for the blades later, Hon.”

  “Just so you weasels don’t leave me out of this party.”

  “Fat chance of that,” Lucas replied, “and no, I wasn’t referring to your butt.”

  Lynn gasped. She jutted an accusing finger out at the smiling Lucas while her husband had to clamp both hands over his mouth. “You’re lucky you’re a geezer, Lucas.”

  * * *

  We used the stationary mount for our EMP launcher as our target vessel came within range. They had made overtures, announcing they were nearing our position, which we acknowledged. We also knew from Athan Kalif they always fired on the vessel they approached without warning, and they aimed to make casualties. Well within our M107 sniper rifle range, Casey launched the EMP load. It burst over them, and descended as programmed. In moments, their boat was dead in the water. We already knew their electronics keyed into not only navigation, but engine control. Then Jafar and I went to work.

  “They are manning their 20mm gun mount, John! It is high on the craft though.”

  “Take it out, Case.”

  “On it.”

  Casey’s controlled bursts obliterated their 20mm gun, and the three guys trying to get it into firing position. “Oh yeah! I’m glad I picked the fifty.”

  “Very nice, Case! That was their main mounted weapon. Now, we wait.”

  “A man with a rocket launcher has come up on deck, John.” Jafar read off the numbers going into a calculation for wind, speed, direction, and pitch.

  I had been scoping for targets, so I saw the man come on deck. To his credit, he came up with the express purpose of firing quickly. He made it into position, turning toward us, when I fired a short burst that blew his head off. Then I sighted in on the launcher, and turned it into an unusable piece of smoking trash. My shots had everyone on board the vessel hiding rather than trying to fire something at us. Then I went to work. I nicked off pieces close to the crew hiding, getting real time shots of their positions from Jafar’s link up to Denny. When I didn’t get any hands waving in the air, I began executing by guess the underlings. After they realized my armor piercing slugs could shred what they were hiding behind, the arms started popping up with at first hesitation. When they realized no more shots were forthcoming, the crew raised their hands while standing. Yep, in this case, firing until they were killed would have been a better choice.

  Lucas moved us closer while watching our surrendering crew with I’m sure one hand on the throttle, and the other ready to veer away at a moment’s notice. I had to look for an example to set. My illustration of intentions made a move to lower his hands and walk toward the boat’s bridge. I blew his head off, spraying a couple of his fellow crew members with his brain and skull matter. No one moved after my illustration. When we came abreast of our target, Lucas issued orders in English and Spanish.

  “On your knees, fingers locked behind your heads!”

  I blew the head off one more as there was some hesitation. We weren’t there to accommodate hesitation or anything else for that matter. They dropped to their knees, faces up, and fingers clasped after my demo. By prior arrangement, Clint, Lynn, and Jafar boarded the craft. They rapidly plastic tied each crewmember with Casey and I watching their backs. Lynn did some butterfly knife tricks for their amusement. They were not very appreciative, but Lynn seemed to enjoy it. I knew one thing: they weren’t going to enjoy what follows. All messing around was over. We locked horns with our captives immediately.

  “Who is in charge here?” Clint asked. Getting no answer, he continued. “Let me put it another way. Whoever is in charge better stand up, or we’ll just gut you, and throw you all overboard.”

  A guy in the middle of our detainees noticed everyone looking at him, and figured it would be stupid to pretend any longer. At least the guy didn’t insult our intelligence. He stood up, keeping his hands clasped.

  “I am Hector Manos. We were to meet with Adrian Bantos and his wife Mariah. This is an outrage! We are here to direct negotiations for a proposed oil contract deal.”

  Clint was not to make this into a play on words with these guys. “Here’s the deal, Hector. We know about your Cartel affiliations, your extortion racket in the Gulf, and the prisoners living on your Fantasy Island property in Cancun. We’re the pros from Dover sent to end all of your enterprises out here in the Gulf. How we go about doing it will depend on your helpfulness. One thing we won’t be debating with you is your survival. You assholes will not be living through this.”

  Clint paused while the howl went up of fear, protest, and threats as usual. In this particular instance we had decided prior to engagement about how we wished to proceed. We would see it through no matter what if we didn’t get immediate capitulation to our demands. Lucas had anchored us. He jumped aboard our doomed capture to inspect the engines, and see if it would be possible to make the vessel runnable with Jafar’s help on the electronics. If we could motor in near the oil rig aboard the Cartel’s boat with the Wolf backing the play, our takeover would go far more smoothly. Lucas and Jafar adjourned together below decks. We all waited in place, letting our captives whine about injustice and their rights as murderers. Twenty minutes later our shipmates emerged with grim features. Jafar stayed with Clint and Lynn while Lucas came back on board the Wolf.

  “No go, John. They had too much of the system computer controlled without mechanical bypass like the Wolf has.” Lucas didn’t joke around. “I’d like to give you more than one option, but the only one I’m seeing is you doing a sea approach. The only other option is a frontal assault after using the EMP launcher. If the rig is active, we may cause something real bad if the controls are not shut down safely.”

  Lucas laughed as I let my head bang down on the deck where I was positioned with my M107. “Damn it! I knew when I saw you and Jafar’s faces I was screwed. What do you think for distance? A hundred yards would be enough, right?”

  Lucas clapped me on the back. “Good one, John… a hundred yards… sorry. You know what we’ll need to do.”

  I straightened, taking a deep breath, while watching Lynn messing with our captives. “We tow their boat after we try to reboot as many things as we can. Please tell me a mile will probably be enough.”

  “That would be my assessment. We go at night after making this Hector guy call home, and explain there would be a delay before returning due to a glitch in the computer system. They don’t have another boat to send, so his excuse should be accepted without question.”

  “Oh boy. A mile of ocean at night, followed by only God knows what when I get to the rig. Most rigs only get people aboard by helicopter, and hoisting them
up in a basket from water level. I sure as hell hope these pirates have a better access because of their main purpose.”

  “We’re going to need some real good detail from these guys. We could abort this, and isolate the rig until we starve them out.”

  I don’t think so. “Yeah, if we want to write off our Cancun hostages. That would be another way for us to lose all goodwill for our rogue adventures.”

  Lucas nodded, smiling a little. “We knew the moment they were running this damn pirate base off an oil rig we’d be in deep shit. I have an idea you might like though if you’re able to secure the LZ aboard the rig. It won’t save you a mile swim and a one man boarding though.”

  “Lay it on me, brother, this damn gig is turning septic.”

  “If you can ascend to and secure the landing zone, we could have Laredo fly out with a water-winged chopper, fitted with some damn weapons. He can land near where you start your approach, and then wait with us until you give word the LZ is in your hands.”

  “That’s a terrific idea… if I can somehow manage to get up on the platform.” Boy, I’m imagining all kinds of bad. Laredo landing with an assault crew if I can command the LZ would be the way to go, but it all hinged on me getting from an easily accessible lower platform up to the LZ. “You’re right, Lucas, we have to proceed that way. Bad part is we won’t be able to use blasting type weapons on the rig. You call Denny to get Laredo ready for launch. I’ll go over with Casey and extract the info we need.”