Bracing for the Storm

by Matt Lincoln

  “Finally!” she yelled. “I get to shoot stuff!” She began to pace, shaking her hands out and counting off her fingers how many things she needed to get done. “We need to load all four of the .50 cals and prep the 25. We should ideally have the crew armed and ready, but I don’t know how to pull that off without raising red flags, so let’s suit up whoever is on duty, and I’ll work out the rest of it.” She continued to pace, a look of concentration on her face as she worked through the details in her head.

  Watson met my eyes. “You made the right call getting Slade involved. I think the entire crew needs to know what’s going on.”

  “I agree,” I replied, and I looked to Slade for confirmation.

  “I’ve got it worked out,” she said as she stopped pacing and turned to face us. “I’d like to get as much set up in advance as possible. I’ll meet you at the briefing?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, and Slade ran off the bridge, disappearing out of sight in a flurry of excitement. I turned to look at Watson, who was staring down at his hands.

  “You do realize this is either going to make or break our careers, right?” he asked without looking up.

  “Yes,” I replied softly. “I’m banking on it making our careers, and I’m just going to tell myself the other option isn’t possible.”

  I looked outside to find Slade poking around the 25. The 25mm Bushmaster autocannon worked via remote control from up here on the bridge. The thing was huge and required her to go down to a lower deck to even load it. I knew she was excited for a chance to see it in action, as most of the time, she would clean it and run routine maintenance only to have it sit there unutilized. Her eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store as she worked. At the very least, this news brought her some strange joy, even if it would be short-lived.

  I brought my bag down below to my stateroom and then met Watson on the mess deck to gather the crew. I had already sent out a quick text to everyone, so the mess deck was filling quickly. Once six o’clock hit and everyone was accounted for, Watson gave me a curt nod, and I stepped forward to address the entire crew. I gave them the rundown from the beginning, and when I was done, I was met with stunned silence.

  “Whoa,” Perez finally broke the spell. “Murph was right this entire time. Wait till I tell him!”

  Watson stepped forward with his palms raised. “No one is telling anyone anything,” he stated firmly. “This remains in-house until after the mission is complete. We cannot risk word getting out about this.”

  “Lives and careers are at stake,” I added. “This source does not exactly follow the letter of the law, and we need to protect them.”

  “We know this is a lot to dump on you guys in the name of secrecy,” Watson urged. “But we need to be as prepared as possible, and we would be doing you all a major disservice by not telling you in advance.”

  Slade piped up from where she sat. “For all of you that ever wished we could do more than just random drug busts, well, this is it. We’re involved in stopping an entire cartel!”

  The entire crew cheered in excitement at that, although a few crew members looked a bit hesitant.

  “We may not need to be as prepared as we are,” I called out. “I have a friend who will be helping us out. We know that the cartel is sending three go fasts, but if you see a fourth boat, different from the rest, that would be our allies. They will have our backs.”

  Watson clasped his hands together. “Let’s get out there and get ourselves ready to go. We’re getting underway now, and I want us all prepared. If you have any questions or concerns, see either XO or me, or talk to GM2.”

  Slade nodded in acknowledgment, a grin growing wider across her face. I followed Watson up to the bridge to prepare for our trip as the chatter began to grow on the mess deck. I had never been more nervous or excited for a patrol.

  The beginning of our patrol went smoothly. Slade spent the rest of the day coordinating with me and touching base with each crew member to ensure everyone knew their role when the time came. I had a hard time falling asleep that night due to all of the adrenaline and anticipation, but I finally did get a few hours. When I woke up the next morning, Rodriguez had giant breakfast burritos waiting for everyone.

  The mess deck was packed as people awaited updates and additional information. The entire boat was abuzz with excitement, and Slade seemed to be everywhere at once, making sure the crew was fitted with proper body armor and firearms at all times. I grabbed a burrito and some coffee and headed up to the bridge, my body armor feeling heavier than usual.

  Watson was already up there and halfway through his burrito, and Sanchez was keeping an eye on the radar. I sat by the additional computer on the port side and checked the weather.

  “It looks like a storm is headed our way,” I announced to the room, and Sanchez nodded in acknowledgment.

  “Yes, we saw that,” he said. “Not ideal, but it could possibly.work to our advantage with the visibility.”

  “True.” I shrugged as I looked out the window. The clouds looked ominous in the distance, but so far, we were dry.

  I had just finished my burrito and was working on my coffee when Perez spoke up again.

  “There,” he said as he pointed to the radar screen.

  I threw myself off the computer chair and scrambled up to the screen he was looking at.

  “It’s far, but it’s moving fast,” Perez declared, looking over at us. “What do we do?”

  “Make a pipe, let’s be prepared,” I replied swiftly as I gestured for Watson to take the reins.

  Watson cleared his throat and grabbed the intercom. “Now, set the go-fast bill.”

  I heard voices echo up from the mess deck as the cutter came to life. I stole another quick glance at the radar screen before running down to meet Slade and my team. Whatever was out there was far away, so we still had time, but my adrenaline drove me forward quickly, and I was down with my team standing in front of Slade’s armory in record time.

  “Alright, guys, this is it!” Slade began a mini pep talk as she handed out the rest of the body armor and firearms. “Stay alert, move quickly, watch your six!” The rest of the crew started filing through, as she got everyone set up. With my helmet on, pistol on my waist, and rifle slung across my chest, I began to make my way back up to the bridge. It was cramped up there, as the rest of the crew began filling in the corners as well.

  I walked over to Watson and Sanchez to see what they’d found.

  “Check this out, XO,” Sanchez muttered softly as he pointed to the radar screen. “Three targets are approaching here, all roughly the same size. I would say they are our go fasts. And then…” Sanchez clicked through the screens in search of something. “I saw something over on our port side. It was faint, and I lost it, but I swear it was there. If I hadn’t been scanning the radar like crazy, I would have missed or dismissed it completely. I’m sorry…” He clicked through the screens again, but nothing was popping up. “I can’t find it now.”

  “That’s fine,” I nodded in confirmation. “That’s Jake.”

  “Who’s Jake?” Sanchez asked, looking at me with a slightly furrowed brow. He quickly put the puzzle pieces together in his head. “Oh, that’s your contact. Okay. Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. He said three go fasts. So this fourth thing has to be his. Plus, it’s supposed to be able to avoid radar detection.”

  “Oh, wow. What is it?” Sanchez looked back at his radar screen for answers.

  “It’s… well, it’s not exactly legal. It’s a supercavitating stealth boat.” I chewed on my bottom lip and looked to Watson for assurance.

  Sanchez looked very intrigued, his eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face. He turned to Watson and me and shrugged his shoulders. “We probably have about ten minutes before our world changes. The sky is darkening, so let’s keep an eye out for that. I have ten minutes until I can get my eyes on a supercavitating stealth boat.” He rubbed his hands together in excitement.

  “Thank you,
Sanchez,” Watson said quietly. He then turned to face the crew. “In ten minutes, they will reach us. Everyone get to your stations. Prepare the small boat for launch, but do not launch it. I don’t want anyone to be sitting ducks. Go, go, go!”

  Leaving the bridge was tough, as everyone worked their way out single-file, leaving me, Watson, and Sanchez up front, Rogers at the QMOW station, and Slade at the controls for the 25mm autocannon out front. I looked out the windows and saw that all four .50 caliber machine guns were ready, one crew member behind each one. Behind us down below, there was a small, armed crew prepping the small boat in case we needed it. I knew that we had eyes and ears everywhere, even in this threatening weather. I just hoped it would be enough.

  32

  Jake

  Wraith cut through the Caribbean waters like a hot knife through butter. We were cruising at about fifty knots. Hawthorne was by my side, looking around at the sleek black-clad facade and high-end tech in admiration from his perch in the copilot chair.

  “You’ve done good, Header,” he commented with a grin. “I don’t know how you pulled this off, but it makes Angie and I look like amateurs.”

  “You’re anything but,” I stated matter-of-factly. “If you were, you wouldn’t be anywhere near my baby.”

  Wraith really was my baby. She was small, stealthy, and ran quietly and smoothly across the water.

  “So, what’s supercavitation exactly?” Angie asked from one of the foldout chairs behind us.

  “Supercavitation is pretty cool,” I replied smoothly. “The craft shoots bubbles or vapor from the front of the hydrofoil’s pontoons and washes all the way aft. The difference in pressure between vapor and water propels us forward.”

  “Sounds fancy,” she said, impressed. “I bet that’s the least exciting thing about this boat.”

  Doc and Hawthorne laughed, and I turned to see Rosa was also smiling. Yeah, they all knew I liked my toys, and I wouldn’t go through the effort of acquiring a supercavitating boat like this to just make it ordinary. I did, however, have a few trust issues, so while they knew it was cool, I kept my favorite toys to myself for now.

  “I see something, or a few somethings, on the radar here,” I said as I pointed it out to Hawthorne. He could see everything I was doing, but I had him locked out of the controls.

  “Oh, yeah,” he acknowledged. “Three small vessels, nine o’clock. Moving quickly.”

  “Those must be the go-fasts,” Angie clarified. “How far are they from the Coast Guard cutter?”

  “Probably about ten minutes?” Hawthorne looked down at the radar screen. “The Coast Guard has to already see them.”

  “They better see them,” I added, “and they better be ready. This storm is brewing, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to be a small one.”

  I opened the throttle, and Wraith picked up speed in that direction. It looked like we would intercept them just in front of the cutter, which was dangerously close. There was no time to recalculate a plan. We simply needed to get there as quickly as possible.

  Once we got closer, it wasn’t long before we saw the go-fasts splicing through the increasingly choppy water with ease. They didn’t see us right away, and before they reached us, they split up. One go-fast went to to the starboard side of the cutter, the second went to the port side, and the third boat stayed forward.

  “That’s where the bombs are, on that last boat. Damn.” I pulled up short and opened the hatch. The lower door landed a couple of feet above the clear blue water, setting up a great dive platform. “Gear up, people. I can slow them down from here, but you’re going to have to intervene.”

  Hawthorne and Angie scrambled to get their dive suits on while I opened up the weapons systems. I heard big droplets of water hit the deck as the storm moved in. Doc hopped forward into the copilot seat while Rosa helped Hawthorne and Angie with their gear. He had his binoculars in his hands, and he focused on the go-fast in question.

  “I see them getting ready for their dive,” Doc said, the binoculars pressed into his face.

  “You guys better hurry!” I yelled. “I’m about to piss them off!”

  “We’re good!” Hawthorne yelled.

  “Go!” Doc yelled back, and I listened through the raindrops until I heard two distinct splashes. When I glanced back, Rosa was on her own, quickly working her way back to her seat.

  “Here goes nothing,” I muttered, and I launched our first missile.

  The missile cut through the water smoothly, and the crew aboard the go-fast didn’t notice it until the last minute. I saw one diver see it and slap his partner, who grabbed something bulky and led the two of them into the water a split second before the missile hit. The explosion was intense, and it immediately triggered retaliation.

  Rapid-fire gunshots echoed through the air from multiple sources, and I looked over to see that the go-fasts that were straddling the cutter had opened fire with their machine guns, prompting a swift response from the Coast Guard. Smart enough to know that a moving target is harder to hit, both go-fasts sped around the cutter while continuing to fire upon it. The 25mm on the forward part of the cutter swiveled around in an attempt to pinpoint its target, while the four .50 caliber machine guns were already in full use, raining brass and gunpowder over the water. I prayed that Hawthorne and Angie were having success under the surface at intercepting those bombs.

  I flipped a switch, opening a hatch off the bow that revealed my own machine gun, and took pleasure in shooting at these two boats. My first barrage of firepower stitched along the hull of one of them and hit one of the crew members in the arm. Of course, by taking advantage of my weapons systems, I did also draw attention to myself, and we ducked down as they returned fire. I quickly pulled up the hatch to protect us and fired back, hoping to slow the assault. Rainwater flowed down as the hatch raised up, but thankfully most of it drained out.

  We were being pummeled by machine gun rounds and heavy rain now as we fire back. Whatever Hawthorne and Angie were up to at this point, resurfacing was not an option, at least not until I could stop the bullets from flying so that they could get on board safely.

  I heard a loud boom and saw the 25 on the cutter recoil as it fired. The shot struck one of the go-fasts and sent their crew into the water.

  “Hold on,” I yelled over my shoulder for Doc and Rosa’s benefit, and I took off through the steady stream of rain in the direction of the boat fragments.

  “What are you doing?” Doc asked as he kept a firm grip on the armrests on the copilot chair.

  “Disarming and capturing these idiots,” I replied coolly as I slowed the boat and pulled up next to them. With the hatch closed, we were protected, but we couldn’t stay locked up forever. I opened a side panel that lined up flush with the rest of the interior that revealed a small gun safe. I grabbed a rifle for myself and tossed one to Doc and another to Rosa. Once they were in position, I opened the hatch.

  Debris and body parts floated across the water’s choppy surface, an appropriate visual to accompany the continuous gunshots echoing in the background. I didn’t see much life at first, but as I gently steered around the area, I found one man with thick dark hair and an arm full of tattoos coughing and clutching a chunk of the hull. I pulled us up beside him, and Rosa and Doc both stepped up and leaned over, pointing their rifles down at him. I reached down and hauled him on board, and he relented.

  Once he was safely onboard, I zip-tied his wrists and ankles and secured him to one of the chairs. Rosa kept her rifle fixed on him while Doc slung his over his shoulder and began giving the man medical attention. I closed the hatch back up and did another search before feeling satisfied with the rescue effort.

  When we turned our full attention back to the firefight that was happening, what I saw made me uneasy. The Coast Guard cutter had launched their small boat now that there was only one go-fast remaining, They were firing at each other, and the crew that was on the cutter working with the machine guns continued to fire at every open
opportunity. I knew that one of the team members aboard that small boat was Linda, and the whole setup made me nervous.

  It was too risky to send out another missile on a moving target that was being pursued by friendly fire, so I stuck to my machine gun for the moment. Landing my target would be tough but doable, depending on the angle as well as the speed of the target.

  As I waited for my shot to present itself, the firefight continued among the two boats. My heart sank as one of the Coasties recoiled backward, losing their grip and clutching their shoulder. A second Coastie dropped with them, appearing to give first aid. The distraction slowed the go-fast down just enough for me to line up and take my shot, and with expert precision, I shot their engine out. They still had their rifles in their hands, however, and now, they turned their firepower onto us.

  “Crap,” I muttered as I let loose a storm of bullets. The Coast Guard small boat maneuvered themselves away from the action and left an open target for us.

  Unfortunately for them, we were more protected and well-stocked with ammunition. I took down several crew members before the rest dropped their weapons and held their hands up in surrender. The only sounds now were that of the pelting raindrops and the thunder inching closer. The sky was completely dark now, and it was difficult to see the navigation lights on the boats through the mist and wind and rain. The Coast Guard small boat moved back in, weapons drawn and fixated on the survivors.

  I looked back at Doc and Rosa. Rosa had taken a wide stance to keep her balance in the turbulent waters, and Doc was crouched on one knee, wrapping our captive’s arm in gauze. I slowly accelerated, running toward where the small boat was. When we pulled up, one Coastie had a rifle aimed at the disabled go fast, and another was on the offending boat, handcuffing the remaining three combatants.

  I dropped the hatch and swiveled around so that we could communicate. “I have a fourth one here,” I yelled over the echoing thunder. “How many of you are hurt?”

  “Two!” A short man behind the controls yelled. “Taylor and Reyes.”