1
Three weeks ago. Atlantic Ocean near Nigeria . . .
The room was dark as the large screen flashed with the image of the large American cargo ship named The Caribou. The light from the image illuminated the room filled with men. Chief Petty Officer Walker Greene was a member of the US Naval Special Warfare Development Group, which everyone in the military just called DEVGRU. Civilians still called it SEAL Team Six even though that name was no longer used by the military. Walker leaned forward as his lieutenant commander pointed out the breach points on this ship.
“The Caribou was taken hostage by Nigerian pirates an hour ago,” Lieutenant Commander Stephens told the eight men of the DEVGRU’s Red Wolves squadron. “The captain was able to send an SOS before the bridge was stormed.”
“How many pirates?” Jud Melville asked. He was the senior chief petty officer and leader of Walker’s team. His mind was meticulous when planning a rescue.
“Eight,” Stephens responded.
Walker’s brow knit as his commander turned to the blueprint of the cargo ship and laid out the plans for the rescue. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” Walker asked after they discussed their mission. “The Nigerian pirates typically don’t try to steal a ship. They usually take the crew ashore and ransom them to the ship company. But in this case, they’re taking the ship with them. What’s on the boat?” Walker asked. It had to be something big for the pirates to try to disappear with a massive cargo ship. They had to know that the longer they were at sea, the more likely they’d be caught. A new picture came up and Walker let out a low whistle. It was the ship’s manifest. Platinum, gold, and diamonds were just some of what was on The Caribou.
“They’d just picked up cargo from South Africa. They stopped in Nigeria to pick up their last bit of cargo before heading back to the United States. They were attacked after exiting the harbor. Reports show the ship is now heading south. There are some known pirate hangouts in the region, and we believe they will be going there to unload. We’ve been called in to rescue the crew of The Caribou. We’re diverting our course since we’re so close. Our original assignment has been sent to another platoon. Be ready for RIB deployment in fifteen minutes,” Stephens ordered as the men all stood. The RIB, or Naval Special Warfare Rigid Inflatable Boat, could operate in heavy seas and carry all eight members of the Red Wolf squadron.
“What do you think, Greene?” Senior Chief Melville asked as they walked as a group to get ready to deploy.
“It’s a big ship, which means there’re plenty of blind spots to board. They’re fifty miles out, so we can come in dark and quiet. They won’t expect us so soon since no one knows we’re here. They probably figure they have time to stash the boat and cargo before local enforcement realizes they can’t handle it and calls for international help. Patrols are down since we put a dent in the Somali pirates, so they will think they have time on their side,” Walker said, opening his locker and peeling off his shirt.
At six foot one, Walker was one of the taller SEALs. Melville stood four inches shorter and thirty pounds lighter than Walker. The prospect of boarding a hostile ship wasn’t new to them. They’d done it before, and if Walker were honest, this sounded like an easy in and out. As a SEAL, you go in knowing you’ll come out alive. But if you can’t, you’ll go out taking as many bad guys with you as you can.
“What is that, Greene?” Shane Wecker, Walker’s best friend, laughed at the small Roman numeral tattoo Greene had gotten on his biceps. “That’s what you ended up getting?”
Walker looked down at the tattoo that represented the year he became a SEAL and shrugged. “I’m too sexy to cover up this body.” The team howled with laughter since Shane’s back and chest were covered with as many tats as the Navy would let him have. Shane softly punched Walker in the stomach as he laughed. Walker blew out the playful punch and started to pull on his gear. He loved these guys. They were his brothers, and there was no one better to tease than family.
“Your sister doesn’t have a problem with them,” Wecker said with a grin as he held out his arms to the oohs of the other men.
Walker shook his head as he finished strapping on everything he would need for the rescue. “It’s a damn good thing you love her or I’d have to kill you. I’d hate for my little sister to be a widow at thirty.” Edie and he were four years apart and had become inseparable since their parents passed away ten years before. He’d attended her college graduation, and she’d encouraged him to follow his dreams after his second combat deployment with the SEALs to try out for this elite group made up of the best of the best of combat tested SEALs.
When Walker became a SEAL, his sister had moved from their small hometown of Shadows Landing, South Carolina, to Virginia Beach to be closer to him. After joining DEVGRU, Walker had introduced her to his squad. Shane had gone from bad boy to loving husband in less than a year. Their second anniversary was in three days.
“Okay, enough harping on Walker for being a coward when it comes to needles,” Jud Melville teased as everyone quieted down for their orders. “Cal, you and Larson take the bow. There you’ll trigger the fire alarm, but I don’t want a big explosion, just something that will bring some of them to us.”
“You got it,” Larson nodded as he double-checked his pack for the tools he’d need.
“Walker, you’ll take the starboard entrance a quarter of the way up the bow while Shane will insert at port side. Rick, starboard beam and Joe, port beam. Perry and I will take the stern nearest the bridge. We’ll move in a wave pattern, building up to breach the bridge.”
Walker nodded. He would board and wait for the fire to be set. Then Cal would reach him and Larson would reach Shane. Together they’d moved forward, meeting up and spreading out with Joe and Rick and taking out any of the pirates who came to check the fire. They’d split off quietly and join Jud and Perry to regain control of the ship.
“Let’s go, men! Tomorrow we’ll look back on tonight and it will seem like an easy day,” Jud said as they walked through the ship to board the RIB. A three-man crew would be with them to drive the boat and man the onboard weapons. Walker took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and said a quick prayer to Saint Michael before climbing on board.
The large cargo vessel loomed as if it were a ghost ship. The lights were off, and no one was visible on the bridge near the stern of the ship. Jud made the motion to ready themselves as the throttle lessened to hide the noise of their arrival. They sliced through the waves toward the ship as Walker and the rest of the men pressed themselves against the RIB and tried to disappear from sight.
Spray from the ocean splashed Walker and his team, but they didn’t mind. They were frogmen. Being in the water was second nature to them. The RIB slowed, and at Jud’s silent order, Cal and Larson scurried up the bow and went to work setting their trap. Less than a minute later, Walker began to climb the rope one of the crewmen had secured, with Shane right behind him.
The cargo ship didn’t echo their silent footfalls as one by one each member of the Red Wolf team boarded the hostile vessel and moved toward the bridge along the rail. Huge containers towered over them like skyscrapers, covering them in shadow until they emerged at the stern of the ship. As Walker scanned the bridge with his scope, he saw Jud and Perry move into position. “It’s a go,” Walker whispered. Cal nodded and pressed the remote detonator. A second later a distant fire alarm could be heard.
“Something’s not right,” Shane said as he scanned the area. “No one is moving. No lights, no people, no pirates.”
“We’re moving in,” Jud said over the coms. They had climbed the ten stories up, but the plan was for them not to move in until the pirates had shown themselves.
“Wait for us,” Walker replied as he gave the order to climb.
Jud didn’t answer back as he and Perry breached the bridge. Walker cursed and took off up the metal stairs, rifle in hand, as he continually scanned for hostiles. The metal stairs groaned and creaked at they raced up them. At the top, Walker held a fist to stop his team. He held up three fingers and motioned to the far side of the bridge. Cal, Larson, and Joe took off for the far door to the bridge while Walker, Shane, and Rick got into position.
“We’re in position,” Cal’s hushed voice said over the coms.
“Go.” Walker ordered as he flung the door open. Shane and Rick entered with guns pointed.
Walker stepped into the bridge after his teammates and scanned the area. The lights were off. The glow was from the computers covered with blankets. Everything was wrong. “Abort!” Walker yelled, but it was too late. Gunfire from under the desks, from a closet, from all around them erupted. Walker returned fire as he stepped back toward the door.
The smoke from the gunfire filled the room quickly, making it hard to see as he fired blindly in the direction of the hostiles. “Shane, Rick, you’re clear back!”
But no one followed him as he stepped from the smoke-filled air and out onto the deck. The gunshots stopped, and in eerie silence, Walker held his rifle at the ready. His heart beat faster, but he wouldn’t give into the fear. He had a job to do. And so long as he was still breathing, he’d do it.
The smoke began to clear and a black form could be seen. Walker put the sights on the head and his finger on the trigger.
“Walker! Shane! Anyone!”
Walker released the pressure on the trigger and pushed his night vision goggles back up onto his helmet. “Jud! I’m here. Are you injured?”
“Walker, thank goodness,” Jud said, relieved as he appeared in the doorway. But he didn’t appear alone. Moving past him were armed hostiles. “Thank goodness you’re the only one left. It was easier than I thought to take out the best of the best.”
Ice froze in Walker’s veins as he registered what Jud had done. Walker took a step back and hit the metal rail of the bridge that overlooked the water some 120 feet below. “What have you done?”
“Done? I’ve become a multimillionaire in ten minutes. Do you have any idea how much all of this is worth on the black market? Further, as the lone survivor of the heroic yet devastatingly tragic rescue operation, I’ll get a book deal, a movie deal, and everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“You did this for money and fame?” Walker asked, disgusted and completely baffled.
“You think they pay us enough for our jobs? We make nothing. Less than a freaking person sitting safely in a cubicle all day. We put our lives on the line every day, and we get nothing. I’m tired of it. I want it all, and I’m taking it all. ‘Poor Walker Greene was the last to die,’ I’ll say tearfully to the world as I tell them how bravely you fought and died. Now smile for the drone one last time.” Hidden from sight in the bridge, Jud tossed out two smoke bombs blinding the drone, and turned to the man next to him. “Shoot him.”
Walker didn’t think. He’d already devised his escape. He did it the instant he boarded the ship. They were trained to think that way, and Jud should have seen it coming as Walker flung himself backward over the rail. Gunfire ripped into his thigh, sending him flipping in the air so his booted feet slammed into the water first. The impact was so hard it felt like he had landed on solid ground as bullets tore through the water. The force of his sixty miles per hour drop sent him plunging deep into the ocean’s depths.
Walker’s lungs burned and his body hurt, but he forced his arms to move as he swam for the surface. The waves carried him up and down and crashed over him as he struggled to swim away from the cargo ship. Walker tried to use his radio coms but got nothing but interference. Jud must have jammed them at some point.
But then Walker heard the motor from the RIB as people shouted on the cargo ship. He could hear Jud issuing orders from inside the bridge and knew he had to make it to the RIB or he would die out there.
It was a sight from heaven when the RIB tore around the end of the cargo ship as the crew laid cover fire. Walker waved his arm and swam toward them as they raced to his rescue. Walker swam with all his strength as a sniper from the bridge saw him and fired. The RIB returned fire on the bridge as they closed in on him. Walker swam for all he was worth and finally a hand came out toward him, urging him the last twenty feet. Walker froze at the sudden loud thundering boom and a high-pitched whistle as a shoulder launcher fired. Walker only had enough time to see the man in shadows against the rail, hidden by the stacks of shipping containers before the RIB exploded.
Walker’s heart plummeted as he dove under to protect himself from the explosion. Fire glowed above him as the dead bodies of his compatriots floated among the debris. Part of the RIB sunk slowly by him, the glow from the fire still burning on the surface of the water to illuminate the small hold of the boat now split in half. It was used for storage . . . and for an emergency raft.
Suppressing the urge to surface for breath, Walker kicked his legs as he chased the sinking debris. His lungs burned, pain stabbed his leg, and there were black spots in his vision. But those spots didn’t change the fact that he saw the bright orange of the life raft crammed into the hold.
The boat seemed to sink further and further away as Walker stretched his fingers toward his only chance at survival. With one last burst of strong kicks, Walker surged against the depths and his hands closed onto the small handle of the raft. With a final yank to free the raft, Walker swam for the surface. Holding onto the straps for dear life, Walker used one arm to frantically push through the water and into the night air.
Walker filled his lungs the second he breached the water’s surface. He pulled the small rectangular package holding the boat to his chest and breathed until the dizziness subsided. It was then he noticed no more shots were being fired. Looking around, he saw he had drifted further from the ship and was in the middle of a debris pile drifting away with the current.
Walker took an assessment of the situation. The smoke was clearing. He pulled his night vision down on his helmet and watched as Jud, standing at command in the darkness of the bridge, called the men together outside. Suddenly one man shot in toward Jud, but Walker couldn’t see what happened to Jud. The next thing he knew, a wave of bullets washed over the pirates from inside the bridge. Jud staggered from the bridge with his rifle in hand and kicking the guns away from the pirates who hadn’t fallen dead overboard. Jud collapsed to his knees and pulled two flares. He waved them at the drone Walker knew would be flying high above them, reporting their mission back to Lt. Commander Stephens. Walker had seen enough. He needed to get in touch with base before Jud. Because from what would be captured by the drone, it would look like Walker died before the smoke bombs covered the ship. And then the drone would report back with the clearing smoke, a now visible pirate shooting someone, and then Jud saving the day by killing all the pirates.
Tearing the compression sleeve from his arm, Walker wrapped it tightly around his leg, slowing the bleeding as much as possible. He took a breath and began the combat sidestroke as he swam in the direction of his ship and his commander. When he was in training, he had done a five-and-a-half-mile night swim. Only this time his leg was bleeding and the possibility of shark attack rose exponentially.
Walker looked back, and once he was out of sight of the cargo ship, he pulled the life raft from the valise and pulled the auto inflate. Tired and exhausted, he tried to compartmentalize the fact he’d lost his team, his best friends, and his brother-in-law at the hands of his team leader. He dragged himself into the orange raft and collapsed. He groped for his coms, but hope died as he saw his pack was riddled with bullets. Through the adrenaline of the moment, he hadn’t felt those shots lodging into his pack and bullet proof vest.
Walker sat near the opening of the raft’s canopy to keep a lookout for friendlies as he stripped off his gear. He had cuts and bruises, but his leg was going to be the major problem. He was lucky the bullet had gone through his thigh about six inches up from his knee, but it was bleeding badly, and he knew he wouldn’t last too long.
Walker grunted in pain as he dug through his things for his first-aid kit. He cleaned it the best he could, pressed quick-clotting gauze to it, and wrapped pressure gauze around his leg. It would do until he could get help. Only help never came.