by J E Higgins
To maintain concealment, all the lights on the ship had been turned off or blacked out. Relying on their night optics to see, they steered their boats into a loose tactical pattern following Crane, who began leading them toward the port. Using the earpiece and small microphones, they did a quick comms check just before revving up the engines to full speed.
In the last hour, a strong breeze from the ocean had picked up and served to mask the sound of their engines. Moving out from the inlet they were soon in open waters moving at a rapid pace.
Having brought his boats to an idle, Zaid Saverine used his binoculars to watch the ship slowly idling at sea. The large, bold lettering on the side of the ship identified it as the Fighting Sailor, removing whatever doubts he might have had about it being his target.
Saverine saw men on the top deck hoisting inflated rubber rafts and starting to lower them into the water. The ship had been headed towards the main cargo port when it began to slow down. It seemed to be feigning engine problems. It was far enough out that no one in the main harbor would be able to see what was going on.
Continuing to scan the ship, Saverine watched men climbing over the rails onto ladders leading down to the water where they were being loaded into the smaller craft.
Gutiérrez and his men could disembark before the boat reached the smaller port, avoiding any confrontation with meddlesome officials recording their entrance into the country or the litany of security cameras that would record their presence.
Surveying the surrounding area Saverine could see several other rafts dotting the water. It looked as if they were in the finishing stages of deployment. The last of the men descended the ladders with no one following. As the last raft finished being lowered, the crew above started drawing in the ropes and putting away the rigging.
As the last raft finished being loaded, the other craft were starting to assemble into a pattern. They began falling in behind a raft that had a man signaling to the others with exaggerated arm movements. Saverine figured the man had to be Gutiérrez. None of the rafts showed any form of illumination, and it was a pretty good bet they were using night vision optics which meant they would quickly notice the darkened boats advancing in their direction.
Saverine didn’t like the setup. He had only a portion of the strength of his initial force. When he arrived at the coast after a long drive, he found to his dismay that his contact had only been able to scrounge up five quality boats. The rest were weathered and beaten old wrecks that would never make the day-long journey down the coast. This meant having to leave most of his original force behind. There was a huge protest amongst the men.
Those not chosen wondered if they were going to receive full pay while those picked argued they should get bonuses if they were going to have to fight while the rest didn’t. It was an arduous negotiation that eventually got resolved. It still meant he was going into action far short of the force he was intending to use.
Even though he was dealing with a small force of men in rubber rafts that he could handle with the force and firepower he had now, he was concerned about the suspicious convoy of vehicles moving into the old port. Saverine figured they might be muscle hired for additional security. It didn’t change the fact that they could become a serious problem if his target was able to make it close enough to the harbor for them to provide support fire.
Returning his attention to the ship, Saverine observed the top deck of the ship. There were no signs of weapons of any kind on display and from the look of the few men running about, it was an easy presumption that they were just sailors aboard. The mercenaries held their position, allowing time for the rafts to move closer to shore. He wanted to make sure they were far enough out that they wouldn’t be able to make a run back to the safety of the ship. He had marked out a point in the water where he thought would be the best place to strike.
Ordering his men to break out the weapons, the mercenaries set about unsheathing machine gun from the plastic covers they had been transported in. They were military grade Fabric National M-240 machine guns, typically used by the US military. They fired a 7.62 caliber round with a high cyclic rate of fire and the ability to engage targets at a far distance. They were placed along both sides of the boat’s front. The men next removed drums of ammunition that had also been stored in sheets of plastic to protect against the corrosive salt water.
When they were close to the planned kill zone, Saverine and his men accelerated their boats to full speed toward their target. As they did, they began to fan out with two of the boats falling in at a distance behind the first two. One of the boats was held back to serve as a lookout and reserve.
At full speed, their powerful boats swept up on the unsuspecting men in the rafts. Guerrero steered the boat bringing it directly behind their targets. Aiming their machine guns, Saverine and the man on the other side of the boat unleashed a powerful storm of gunfire. The cartel men were suddenly in a state of panic as they were hit by a fusillade of bullets that tore into their rafts and bodies.
The first two speed boats blasted into the group of rafts cutting through the opening left by their dispersion. They exited the group and veered sharply to the left. Saverine heard the distinct sound of AK-47s firing. He figured it was the remaining cartel men, having gathered their faculties and were firing at their aggressors. The sounds were quickly followed by the sensation of bullets whistling past them.
Shortly after, there was another powerful burst of machine gun fire as the next wave of speed boats opened up on the cartel men whose attention had been diverted toward the first group.
Crane and his team had moved far out into the ocean keeping a distance of two hundred meters from shore. As they passed the beaches and the town, Crane looked out to see if there were any signs of life. The coast was deserted, and the buildings were completely dark.
The sudden explosion of gunfire from the water took them by surprise. Crane had the boats slow to an idle. Lifting his night optics, he peered through his illumination binoculars to study the situation. He was too far away to get a good view. He reached for his comms set to call the Spaniards but was beaten to the punch when Espinoza came over the comms. “Someone else is out here!” he said, trying not to shout.
“What do you mean?” Crane responded, completely confused.
The Spaniard continued in a desperate tone, “A bunch of guys riding in high powered speed boats, are assaulting what looks like our targets. They’re having a gun battle right now.” Crane stood puzzled as he processed the information.
“What do you want to do?” McNaulty’s voice came out of nowhere.
Suddenly, Sandoval came over comms set, “We have a fucking problem!” He barely contained himself from shouting. Crane didn’t have time to respond when Espinoza chimed in, “It’s the cops, it looks like they just showed up!”
As they neared the port, the battle was coming into view. Looking to the shore, Crane watched as the old port began to light up with a series of red and blue flashing lights. “Shit!” He growled trying to think fast.
“What do we do?” Sandoval asked nervously.
Baez was caught by the sudden gun battle happening at sea that had come out of nowhere. He had readied his men having them take up positions at the docks in preparation for lending protection to his boss and escorts once they came in range. This plan was swiftly changed by the sudden appearance of flashing police lights and the high-pitched scream of sirens as a parade of police vehicles came pouring down the street. Over an intercom, a deep voice that must have been the local commander identified himself as the Peruvian National Police, ordered the surrender of Baez and his men.
Baez didn’t have the chance to respond when his men, all former Shining Path guerrillas, replied with a response that had become a conditioned one so strongly ingrained after years of fighting security forces. The police immediately came under concentrated gunfire that tore into their vehicles.
The police quickly scattered in all directions trying to escape the d
eadly rain of bullets. Racing behind buildings or anything that could make a cover, the officers climbed out of their vehicles and scrambled for positions from which they could return fire. Gradually a wave of return gunfire from the police began to pick up and soon a heavy volume of bullets was ripping through the vehicles and area around Baez’s head.
He dropped to the ground, hiding behind the tire of one of his trucks. He looked around and saw the determined faces of his hired men. They were no longer mercenaries, they had resorted mentally back to their rebel state and were fighting the hated security forces. It was clear, they were no longer his.
Bullets tore through the thick rubber of the wheel Baez had sought refuge behind. It was followed by more bullets as the police regrouped and began delivering a more powerful return of fire, and it was coming from more directions. He saw his mercenaries, falling back on their conditioned training and experience, begin to fan out and take up more secure positions. The battle on land was intensifying. In a desperate act, Baez leapt off the pier into the water. Frantically he tried to swim against powerful currents trying to escape.
Even in the darkness, Crane could feel McNaulty’s eyes bearing down on him waiting for an answer. Looking out at the battle unfolding in the water, Crane saw the long speed boats flying through the water running in relays as they came around and unleashed storms of gunfire on the hapless cartel men who were barely responding with a meager defense. The Fighting Sailor had already begun moving and was making for the port. The captain who had apparently decided to help his former passengers saw it was now a lost cause.
“Espinoza, Sandoval, you’ve done your part, time for you to leave,” he commanded. “We’ll take it from here.”
“Best of luck to you,” said Espinoza.
“We’ll see you back at the rendezvous,” said Sandoval.
The Spaniards cut out and Crane again spoke into his comms set, “Everyone hold!”
In that instant, the mercenaries’ boats slowed to an idle and were gradually drifting toward the attack.
Saverine circled around to make another pass. He was interrupted by a voice coming in over his comms. “Hey boss, we have some problems!” It was Mario Lopez, the man in charge of the boat left as a lookout. “We got some strange boats coming in from the north,” he continued. “I can’t make out who they are, but I can see they’ve got guns, machine guns, and they’re coming in your direction. They were moving fast, coming around into port and had dropped to an idle. It looks like they may be moving to sneak up and ambush you.”
Saverine gritted his teeth. He looked around to observe the area. The rafts were all demolished and there was no sign of life in the water. Deciding that the real work had been done, he looked through his binos in the direction Lopez had explained. Sure enough, he saw four unidentified boats trailing in their direction appearing to try and cut off their exfiltration. He got onto the comms set. “Everyone, we got contact coming in from the north. Looks like hostiles. Fall back and try to move around them. If they open fire engage and take ’em out.”
At once the four boats quickly sped around and started in the direction from which they came and toward the encroaching forces.
Seeing the boats approaching rapidly, McNaulty made a sharp turn a short distance from their targets. Crane let loose a powerful blast with his machine gun. Through his optics, he could see bullets tear into the fiberglass hull of the oncoming boat. Behind him, Crane could hear the sound of more gunfire. Kusaki and Harkness came in, delivering the next wave of gunfire. This time they came in from all around, attacking the next boat coming up.
This time, however, the second boat released a withering return of gunfire into the oncoming attackers. Their guns were positioned at the head of their boat so they didn’t need to position themselves alongside to open fire. Their bullets ripped into the aft of Harkness and Kusaki’s boat. The two men could feel some of the hot rounds buzzing dangerously around their feet. They managed to veer off just enough to get out of the immediate line of fire, avoiding further damage.
Looking back, Crane watched as Mulgrane and Sally followed by the Belgians began sweeping by, delivering a raking barrage of gunfire. They cut to the side giving the gunners ample range to deliver fire on the speed boats. The mysterious aggressors began returning fire with their more powerful M24s. The atmosphere was soon awash with the crackling of 7.62mm gunfire. White sparks sporadically flared from the speed boats as they heaped heavy fire on the encroaching motor boats.
The Irishmen managed to veer off and circle around, but the Belgians started moving in an erratic zigzagging pattern, starting for the port.
“Rubian, Macron!” Crane cried out over the com set, “What the fuck is going on?”
There was no answer as the boat continued its crazed journey towards the shore. It culminated in the boat crashing hard into boats in the harbor.
McNaulty was in the process of swinging back towards one of the speed boats, and Crane was preparing for another round. Already bullets were flying in their direction as the men in oncoming speed boats continued their assault. He readied his weapon. McNaulty took another sharp turn swiping right in front of an oncoming speed boat.
The gunfire from the speed boats was getting thick as they closed in. A few of the shots whizzed along the edge of the motorboat sending shards of fiberglass splinters against Crane’s face. They were also piercing the side of the boat and he could feel water trickling in from the ocean.
He pulled back the trigger, letting loose a long burst of fire. He tried to keep a steady aim as he fired at the oncoming vessel. His bullets ripped at the silhouettes in the speed boat. He watched as men fell over into the water, those who had been swimming suddenly became motionless. They passed by the speed boat coming just within a few feet and could see the darkened figures adorned in black tactical fatigues.
Crane again aimed the Minimi preparing to fire. Just then he noticed something. “Stop!” he commanded with a desperate shout. As instructed, McNaulty cut sharply in the opposite direction attempting to get them out of the line of fire.
“What the fuck is it?” Crane demanded, looking back at his comrade. He didn’t need an answer. He had caught a brief sight of aircraft attacking helicopters. Between the engine noise and the gunfight, they hadn’t heard the noise of the aircraft racing in their direction. Looking up, he could see the choppers were nearly upon them.
Rainn Darson observed the activity below with astonishment. “What the hell was going on?” was the thought that ran through her mind as she watched the gun battle unfold. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. A few minutes ago, Kang had received word from the police units on the ground that they had taken heavy fire from a sizable force of gunmen posted at the docks. He relayed the information to her with a fit of clear anger. Now they had come across a pitched gun battle being waged by men in motorboats all along the coast.
It had not gone over well. She had come to him only a few hours earlier with her revelations and wild theories. Because of her special position, he had been obliged to hurry up and organize a tactical unit and obtain aircraft for the move from Lima─ all on incredibly short notice.
He had only been able to get in touch with the local authorities in Ilo while in transit instructing them to seize the port. Darson could tell that Kang was bitter about causing everyone to act on such short notice. Needless to say, lack of planning and preparation had led to this fiasco.
As they approached, they watched the blaze of gunfire on land. But it was even more shocking to see the battle being waged in the harbor. “Are these your people?” she asked, looking at Kang and pointing to the boats attacking below.
“No!” he shouted back bitterly, “I have no fucking idea who the hell is down there. A rival group or something? That can’t be our concern right now. The local police are getting overwhelmed by the armed resistance they’ve encountered. We need to help them first.”
Saverine had seen the approaching helicopters as he raced to join
the rest of his team. Over his comms set, he alerted them of the encroaching police presence and ordered an immediate withdrawal. He knelt down behind his M240 preparing to lay down any cover fire necessary to aid his men’s retreat.
Seeing the black outlines of three large military birds coming in their direction, McNaulty instinctively broke from his pattern and started away from their target. He brought the boat to full speed as they began moving to make their escape. At the same time, Crane was issuing commands to the other teams to fall back. Watching the hasty retreat of the speed boats, he could only assume that they had seen the same thing and had come to the same conclusion.
Watching the enemy motorboats break contact and turn to escape, Saverine set his sights on the oncoming birds. Elevating his machine gun, he leveled it at the closest approaching helicopter, preparing the engage to cover the escape of his men. However, his efforts proved unnecessary as the choppers hastily flew over them toward the shore. Not waiting around to figure out the deal, he ordered Guerrero to kick the boat into full speed. Immediately they were slicing through the water. As they did, he caught sight of his previous adversaries as they peeled off towards a passing inlet. It came as a great relief that he didn’t have to worry about the gun battle resuming further down the shore.
Crane and his team landed their boats. They jumped in the knee-high water and began trudging their way back to shore. They had dropped their weapons and remaining ammunition into the sea as they entered the inlet, once they were sure the men in the speed boats weren’t pursuing them.