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While I imagine the worst scenarios, Suds winks, sits, and places me on his lap. “We sneak on board, steal the drones, and give them back to the US government. We cando this with our eyes closed and one hand tied behind our back. We got this, sugar.”
Chapter 22
Suds
Around midnight, me and the three other frogmen slip into the murky ocean. We swim under two container ships and surface behind the back ofThe Nimet.With a length of four football fields to choose from, finding an unprotected stretch of guardrail creates no challenge.
Treading water, I aim my weapon and shoot a grappling hook over the side. When no one rushes toward the clink of metal, my team does likewise. We climb our ropes, and with one leg up, crawl over the railing.
Flat on my belly on the deck, I whisper into my chest mic. “All onboard. Piece of sweet potato pie.”
The overhead whine tells me Hands’ drones hover nearby, in position. “Take the ladder to your right.”
Trusting his eyes back at HQ, we ascend the mountain of stacked containers. At the top, new-guy pulls a stick welder from his backpack. The second he begins cutting, someone spots the flare and shouts below us in Arabic.
“Fuck, we’ve been spotted. Keep working. I’ll cover.” Kneeling, I raise my weapon, place my finger on the trigger, and wait for the inevitable hail of bullets.
Outside speakers squeal, and an authoritative male voice booms, echoing all over the ship. “Attention! You are surrounded with no way to leave the boat. Surrender, and you will not be harmed.”
My neck twists back and I grimace at the lack of progress. “Move it along, little doggie.”
The kid shrugs, arms steady as he works. “The torch cuts as fast as it cuts.”
When a bullet dings nearby steel, my eyes dart around, searching for a target. “Damn it. Where are they?”
Hands curses over the comm. “Ten tangos on shore, at your four o’clock.”
Turning, I take aim and drop a man stupid enough to think we wouldn’t fire back. After the gunplay pauses, I glance behind me again. Patch has finished cutting two sides of the rectangle, but at this rate we’ll all be dead before he breaks through.
At the sound of boots clunking on metal rungs, I swing toward the commotion.Fuck.“Where’re they at now?”
“One container over to port. About to be topside.” Thankful for my pal’s skill, I back up, run and leap across the gaping space.
Too soon, another foe pops up in my path. Still squatting, my heel kicks out, but I miss the whack-a-mole when he ducks.
A third tango emerges to his right. Hopping up, he catches me off balance and head-butts me in the gut. While I’m falling on my ass, his knife approaches my neck. Pissed at myself, I trap his wrist, and struggle for his weapon. We roll a mite close to the precipice. That fall would kill us both, but I ain’t dying today. I got me a new baby to greet.
“Suds, hold him up.” At the command in my ear, I flip onto my back, and a shot is fired.
The man I’m wrestling falls on my stomach and as he loosens his grip, Lucky chuckles. “Losing your skills, eh mate?”
Embarrassed by my sloppiness, I toss the knife out of reach, and knee my opponent in the groin. As he grabs his balls, I topple him over the railing.
Before he hits the water, Slate sounds in my headset. “There’s a dozen more about to board.”
“Well, I’m a mite busy here. How about y’all do somethin’ this time?” Eyes on my perimeter, I start to reload but stop short as a weapon clicks behind me.
Swiveling, I face a huge, smirking Russian who raises his weapon. Before he can shoot, I bend, snag my boot knife, and hurl it at his face. Mouth agape, he clutches his neck, and the spark of life leaves his eyes.
“Sorry dude, you picked the wrong man to mess with.” After a prayer and a momentary pang of sympathy for his family back home, I retrieve my blade.
While I wipe the blood off it, Patch’s voice echoes from inside the container of interest. “Hooyah! I’m in… Holy shit. Are you getting this, Sam?”
“Good copy.” It was her idea tobroadcast the stolen drones to the world.
With our mission almost completed, I jump back to join the excited kid. I’m guessing new guy found the motherload. Samantha, safely tucked on shore, squeals with delight. Because it’s so close to the sound she makes during sex my cock hardens making it hard to focus on what she says next.
“Oh my God. I’m forwarding the images to the FBI, the CIA, and Interpol. Hold on. Posting on IG, Twitter, Facebook, and the dark web.”
