The Mullah smiled like a crazy man, “Dangerous indeed. They will be great entertainment in a battle ring against my men. Female gladiators fighting till death.”
~~~
DOC HOWARD PLACED the stethoscope against Hawk’s back in several places while Hawk wheezed deep breaths. He gave me a look and turned to Hawk.
“You have some fluid in your lungs, Hawk. I’ll give you some antibiotics to prevent pneumonia. You need to rest. No strenuous exercise for a week.”
Hawk rolled his eyes at me and said to the doctor, “Roger, Doc. I’ll put in for some vacation time.”
Outside the clinic Hawk said to me, “No way I’m stopping until we find the girls, CJ.” His phone buzzed. “Yeah, this is Hawk. Okay. Text me the coordinates. Thanks for jumping on this, Jake. I owe you one.”
“The CG boys locate Guizarro’s yacht?”
“Roger, CJ. It’s moving south at 10 knots toward the Yucatan Deep. We don’t have time to waste with my recovery shit. I’m good to go.”
“Okay but let me do the heavy lifting. We’ll take my Fountain. It’s faster than your boat and has greater range.”
“You got me there, CJ. But Triple H is better looking.” Hawk grinned.
“I’m glad you can still joke considering your condition.”
“Never mind my condition, bro. The girls are waiting.” He spat another gob of bloody saliva on the dock as we headed for Too Fast for U.
~~~
SOUR REVENGE
HAWK PUNCHED the coordinates into the GPS unit as I accelerated Too Fast for U on a due south heading. The water was smooth, so I pushed the Fountain 38 to full speed. At nearly eighty miles per hour, we would take a beating, especially Hawk, but the lives of Vicky and Spirit were at stake. Hawk is tough. He sucked it up and braced against the seat bolster.
“At this speed, our ETA will be around 2200 hours. Darkness is our friend. I’ll use the Draeger unit to sneak aboard while you keep pace with Too Fast.”
Hawk gave me a sour look. “Roger, CJ. But I don’t like it. We should go in together”
“We don’t have many options. We need you to be ready for a fast exit. I have a surprise for Guizarro.” I pointed at the duffel under the seat. “There’s twenty pounds of thermite in that bag. I’ll place a timed charge in the engine compartment before leaving.”
Hawk smiled. He always enjoyed blowing things up. Especially expensive things owned by the enemy.
~~~
AT 2200 HOURS we passed the slowly cruising yacht a half mile off the port bow. Our running lights off, we continued past for another minute to give me a chance to go underwater into Guizarro’s path. We were off the western shore of Cuba. On the lookout for unfriendlies.
Hawk put on a comms headset and loaded an M16A2 while I suited up. “If things go FUBAR, I will run Too Fast up the yacht’s launch ramp and lay down some cover fire.”
“Roger, Hawk. I hope we don’t need it.”
Armed with SIG Sauer P-226 pistol, SOG knife, a high-density thermite charge, and a few flash bang grenades, I slipped over the side.
I hard kicked toward a rendezvous point. Fortunately, The Florida Current flowed north from the Yucatan Deep, perpendicular to my direction. One slight miscalculation moved up my time to contact by a few minutes. The current moved me closer to the yacht and I almost missed it. I used a grapple hook on a long tether to hook onto the railing of the slowly moving mega yacht and climbed aboard.
There were two guards in the aft section of the lower deck. Their tactical error was standing out of the line of sight between them. Made it easy for me take them out quietly, one at a time.
I reached the upper deck and disposed two more guards. Same poor choice of stations. Where did these guys get their training?
Next stop, Guizarro’s cabin. He was on his sat phone, yammering in Spanish so he did not notice me come in behind him. I put cold steel against his throat, took his phone and turned it off.
Guizarro squeaked, “Mullah Kareef, I thought you left? Are you not satisfied with my gift?”
“Sorry, Guizarro. Wrong guy. Wait, did you say Mullah Kareef?” I pulled my SOG knife away.
He spun in his seat to get up but stopped when he saw a pistol pointed at his face.
“Is he a friend of yours?”
“More like a sworn enemy. How do you know him?”
“A business associate. But that is not important. What do you want?”
“You know what I want. Where are they?”
Guizarro chuckled. “You are too late, Manner. They are with the Mullah and his Cuban friends. Vicky will make some Cuban General a pleasant sex slave. The Mullah plans to eat your dog.”
I grabbed Guizarro by the throat. “When did they leave?”
His eyes bulged as he stuttered, “Three hours ago.” He pointed to the cellphone on his desk. If you don’t believe me, look at my phone. I took a picture of them.
I looked at the phone. It was true. The time stamp on the photo was three hours ago. The Mullah was standing behind them, a smirk on his homely face.
“Where are they going?”
“Cuba. But you will never catch them.”
I’ve wasted enough time with this bozo. I pistol-whipped Guizarro unconscious and hogtied him to his chair before searching the yacht to be sure Vicky and Spirit were not on board.
No sign of them, so I set the thermite charges next to the main fuel tanks before jumping overboard.
Hawk picked me up and we contacted the Coast Guard for a location of the Cuban gunboat. It was last seen via satellite headed back toward the spar. Guizarro lied. No worries, he’ll get rewarded soon. I aimed my iPhone in the direction of the yacht, turned on video and waited. A loud explosion lit up the sky as we turned back on a northerly bearing. Hawk gave me a thumbs up.
“Bye, Guizarro. Vicky will be pleased. At least I can show her the video clip. We have to find her before the Mullah brings her to Cuba.”
“No worries, CJ. Spirit will protect her.”
“Unless the Mullah eats Spirit first. Let’s roll.”
“What? Do you mean Mullah Abdul Kareef? He was here? Are you hallucinating?”
“Believe it, Hawk. Guizarro had a photo of them posing with the Mullah before they were taken off his yacht. Spirit was chained and muzzled. She did not look happy and Vicky was not smiling.”
~~~
OLD ENEMY
HAWK’S PHONE BUZZED. I backed off on the throttle so he could hear the call. “Talk to me. Yeah, almost four hours ago? Right. It was a Cuban gunboat? Where is it now? Thanks. Out.”
Hawk turned to me. “Satellite image of a gunboat tied up to Guizarro’s yacht four hours ago about thirty miles north of Havana. They were hooked up for a half hour.”
“That confirms what Guizarro said to me. Where is it now?”
“You won’t believe this. It tied up to the spar and is off-loading hundreds of 55-gallon drums.”
“It will take nearly three hours to get back there, even with Too Fast at full throttle.”
“No telling what the Mullah is up to. Vicky is smart. Whatever he has planned, she will stall.”
“Then we better roll.” I slammed the throttles forward. The Fountain 38’s bow leaped out of the water as four 350hp Merc Verado engines screamed raw power.
~~~
IT TOOK FOUR HOURS to return, fighting a rising chop and easterly wind. Still dark with an overcast sky, we got close enough to make the last leg underwater with our Draegers. No deep diving this time. Our borrowed hard suits are still in the air lock at the bottom. Plus, Hawk’s suit is damaged. That reminds me, we need to retrieve and return them, damaged or not. I don’t want to piss off my contact at Key West NAS.
We surfaced a hundred yards out. The Cuban gunboat was still tied up to the floodlit loading dock of the spar. Mullah Kareef was standing on the upper deck, looking down at his minions, barking orders in Farsi. He hasn’t changed much since we left him to rot in Guantanamo. Vicky and Spirit were not
in sight.
“Hawk, let’s circle around and climb up the rear access ladder. We’ve got to locate the girls before dealing with the Mullah.”
“Roger, CJ. I’ll take point.”
“The upper deck is most likely where they are being held.”
We reached the stateroom at the end of the upper deck corridor. Two guards leaned against the wall, backs toward us. I motioned to Hawk to take out the guy on the left while I dispatched the one on the right with a well-placed SOG knife throw. The locked door yielded to a heel kick.
Inside lay Vicky and Spirit, both hogtied. Vicky was gagged. Spirit had a nasty looking muzzle clamped on her snout, but she was alert and struggled against her ties when she saw me.
I signaled her to stay down and whispered, “Quiet, girl. Time to pay back the Mullah.”
I cut their ties and took the muzzle off Spirit while Hawk watched the door. Vicky wrapped her arms around me and planted a big kiss.
“I knew you guys would find us. That Kareef guy is planning to make a meal of Spirit and sell me to some Cuban pig.”
“Glad you’re in one piece. You know who he is, right? It’s time to deliver some payback for what he did to me in the Khyber Pass. He’s surrounded by several heavily-armed men so we need a diversion. You up for it?”
Vicky grinned. “You know it, Charley. Then I want Guizarro.”
“Too late for that, Vick. I’ll tell you about it later. Let’s get this done first.”
Vicky looked disappointed but she did not argue when Spirit wagged agreement as I motioned her to follow me out of the stateroom. We’ll use speed and surprise, a SEAL specialty, to grab the Mullah. Gotta find out more about his plan for the radioactive drums on the seabed below us.
~~~
TOO HOT TO HANDLE
VICKY STEPPED OUT in full view of the men surrounding the Mullah and yelled, “Hey Kareef. I need to talk to you.”
He spun around and drew his weapon. “How did you escape? No matter, I have no time for you now.” He aimed his pistol at Vicky’s leg. “You will still be useful as a sex slave, even with a leg wound.”
Spirit and I had circled around the group while Hawk took a position on the other side.
I fired a warning shot in the air and said, “Drop it, Kareef.”
Hawk stepped out from his cover to emphasize my point. The Mullah looked surprised but did not move. He looked at us and smiled.
“I should have known it was you, Charley Manner. But you underestimate your enemy just like your SEAL team did in Afghanistan.”
I seethed at the memory, “It is you who underestimates.”
Spirit growled her agreement, capturing the Mullah’s attention.
“Your dog will make a fine meal. Better hold her back.” His guards raised their AK47s.
“Tell your men to stand down.”
He signaled them to comply and said, “You and your companions are fools. You are too late, many of the drums are already deployed and the timers are set to explode.”
“So that is what you are doing? What good are the bombs at the bottom of the Deep Strait?”
“You are not very bright, even for a Navy SEAL. Allah, in his infinite wisdom, has provided the Gulf Stream to carry the radioactive material northeast along your Florida coastline.”
“Not exactly a spectacular demonstration. And a slow process, too.”
“Do not worry yourself. We have also transported a drum through Guizarro’s pipeline. It is set up with a remote-controlled explosive charge in the warehouse on Stock Island.”
I looked at Hawk, then at Vicky. We need more information if we want to stop the carnage. If the drums on the seabed explode, the entire East coast would be contaminated. Fishing banks in the Atlantic would become poisoned for years. And we have to warn the squids at NAS Key West. Maybe a bomb squad can disable the drum’s detonator in the warehouse. I will try to stall.
The standoff required bold action, something the Mullah would not expect. I raised my hands in the air, “You have planned well, Mullah Kareef. What do you want from us?”
He looked quite pleased with my feigned capitulation. “First, you must shoot your dog.”
Before I could answer, Vicky screamed and did a well-practiced forward shoulder roll toward the Mullah, finishing with a kick to his jaw. Spirit was airborne in a flash, her landing target lined up. Hawk cut down five men before their AKs released a single bullet. I leaped to help pin the Mullah while Spirit sank her teeth into his leg.
With my SOG knife against his throat I shouted, “Sorry to disappoint you but Spirit is not interested in your request. Now it’s time to tell us how to disarm your bombs. “
The Mullah screamed as Spirit shook his bloody leg until I called her off.
I pressed my knife until blood trickled from his neck. “Quickly, Kareef. There is no time to waste.”
He squirmed and spit blood but remained silent. I signaled Spirit to continue chewing his leg. Another scream.
“You want to live, don’t you?”
“Call off your dog.”
“It’s an all you can eat snack bar, Spirit.” I waited another minute before signaling Spirit to back off. She pulled back but maintained attack posture, fangs bared inches from the Mullah’s face. “Talk.”
He swallowed hard and whispered, “The timers are remote controlled.”
“Good news for you. Where’s the controller?”
He looked at a satchel on the deck a few feet away. No need for his answer, Hawk grabbed it and looked inside.
“There are two boxes with digital displays. They are counting down. Twenty minutes left.”
I kicked the Mullah in the ribs, “How do we stop it?”
He winced and let out a cruel laugh, “I am ready to die in the name of Allah.”
“Oh really? Spirit, bite!”
She sank her teeth into the Mullah’s right calf muscle and shook it.
“Aieee! Allahu Akbar.”
Spirit continued to shred the muscle. The Mullah whimpered and finally looked at me with a cold stare. The man is a stubborn SOB.
Meanwhile, Hawk and Vicky were punching buttons on the remotes, trying to signal the detonator timers to stop the countdown.
With our eyes focused on the button-pushing, the Mullah dragged himself to the edge of the platform and jumped. Spirit ran to the railing but too late. A loud splash was all we heard. With so much blood loss, there was no way Kareef could survive. I’ll leave him to the sharks. We have a bigger problem.
“Now what are we gonna do, CJ”
I had an idea. “Hawk, call the Commander at Key West NAS. Send a bomb squad to Stock Island. Maybe they can disable it in time.”
“Roger, CJ.”
I looked at the transfer capsule sitting on a launch platform at the edge of the loading dock directly below us. “Vicky, you and Spirit watch over this piece of shit. I’m going to use that pod to go to the bottom and suit up in the undamaged hard suit. Maybe I can reach the detonator in time.”
“Charley, it’s too risky. You’ll never make it back.”
I shook my head, “No choice. Too much at stake.” I headed for the loading dock.
~~~
IT TOOK TWO MINUTES to reach the airlock on the bottom. Another five to suit up and exit toward the pile of drums. In the darkness I could see a faint red glow from the detonator on the closest drum. I cranked up the prop drives and reached for the wire cutter in the suit tool pocket. I will cut one of the detonator wires and hope it doesn’t blow.
When I reached the detonator, I could see I was in deep shit. It was encased in a metal shell and firmly attached to the brick of C4 plastic explosive. The bomb was compact and attached to the drum with a velcro patch. Plan B: I ripped it free and powered back toward the airlock. The timer read five minutes.
I reached the airlock and was about to close the outer door when a pointed snout jammed into the opening. The croc was back. It kept pushing to open the hatch, mouth open, flashing needle t
eeth. Gotta think quick or my ass is grass.
Bingo, I’ll bet the croc would enjoy a chewy plastic explosive lunch. As it made another lunge at the opening, I shoved the package down her throat. She swallowed the whole thing and pulled back, made a quick turn and vanished in the murk.
A few minutes passed as I closed the hatch, purged the water and jumped into the transfer capsule with both suits. I hit the return button. Gotta surface asap. As the capsule began the ascent back to the oil rig, I heard a loud thud coming from the depths.
~~~
HAWK HAULED ME OUT of the capsule as soon as I reached the spar. He pulled the dive helmet off me and said, “The CG boys were able to defuse the bomb on Stock Island. What happened down there?”
Before I could answer, Vicky yelled from the deck above, “Look over there.” She pointed to our left.
About a hundred yards out we could see bubbling froth with chunks of red flesh and what remained of the croc’s hide. Before the bloody mess sank, we spotted a familiar dorsal fin rise from the waves. The Great White made a feast of the croc’s tail. I looked at Hawk and smiled.
“That damn shark is my good luck charm. She keeps coming back for more Gran Patron, I guess.”
“You do live a charmed life, CJ.”
“Life is indeed good, bro. Hopefully, our shark good-luck charm made a meal of the Mullah after her croc meat hors-d’oeuvres. Let’s get the girls and head home. I’m starving.”
Hawk sat on the deck, clearly fatigued from the effort it took to get here and win the battle. “I’ll wait here, CJ. You can swim for Too Fast without me.”
“No worries, Hawk, I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” I grabbed my Draeger, mask and fins and plunged back in the water. The Fountain 38 was within site in the morning light. It will be good to get everyone home for a well-deserved rest.
Charley Manner series Box Set Page 22