Hard Case VI: The Killer Inside (John Harding Book 6) (22 page)

“You wish that was the only thing weak in that hair brained scheme, Psycho.” Tommy’s muttered insert received general appreciation.

“Are there any legitimate comments other than from the only Snow White we were cursed with?”

“I hate to point this out, but the time John and I went aboard a nice little target on our last sea combat mission, he and I got our asses blown about a hundred yards in the air,” Casey said. “All we used were a couple of flash-bangs. What’s John going to use to smoke those guys out? Let’s face it, Crue. If he doesn’t have a way to attempt this by himself, it defeats the whole purpose. If we all go aboard with the Sea Wolf standing by, then we’re all at risk to get blown to kingdom come.”

“Case is right, babe,” Clint agreed. “Without intel on explosives storage, and threat if John uses any kind of assault aid, what’s the plan for him to get prisoners? They’re not going to just give up because he asks them to.”

“Cheese will be packing his Colt,” Crue said. “He’ll have to walk down there and shoot a couple in the head, smack a couple others around, and generally bully them into submission. What the hell? If it was easy, anyone could do it.”

We enjoyed that declaration for a while, even Tommy.

Crue pointed at Casey. “How about smoke or gas canisters?”

Casey shrugged. “John can light them off above decks and throw them below, but if they have gas masks, a couple of them can stay hidden and ambush him. He wouldn’t be able to see shit below decks either.”

Silence then, as no one had a real good idea for attacking a tugboat loaded with explosives. Crue’s idea for the above decks assault to help me get aboard was solid.

“It’s not bad until we get to the close order combat. Maybe we could do this less violently with only a small amount of danger, except of course the explosives. If those clowns are suicide vest types, I’ll be in trouble. If they’re just crewing the explosives and getting the hell away, we could get them to surrender. What if after making them dead in the water, you do just as Crue said for the readiness part, but don’t fire. Simply wait for the correct targets to surface. While I make my approach in the water, pick out a couple of people who look like they’re in charge. Clint could use his 7.62 caliber AR15 to wound a couple likely candidates before you clear the decks of the living. It would mean no XM25 airburst rounds, Crue. You can get your ‘Wake of the Red Witch’ on shooting aimed bursts with the .50. Once I get on board, I can talk deal with the wounded. I’ll send them down with the ultimatum – surrender or die. I’ll restrain the prisoners who surrender above decks while you Monsters cover me. Once that’s done, I’ll use one of the leaders to go down below, and see what they have.”

“I thought we’d make a joke out of this,” Lucas said. “That damn idea might just work, Recon. It would still mean chancing they won’t blow the ship though.”

“We’ll have to hope the crew of the tug are interested in living. There probably aren’t any women and children on board for the chicken-shit bastards to coerce into blowing themselves up, so maybe I can get them to surrender.”

I lightened the mood pointing out standard operating procedure for Islamist shit-birds. “I’m in. What the hell? It’s what we do. I wonder if Denny wants to secure the tug if we take it in one piece, or blow the whole thing. Could we use a tug in the fleet, Ahab?”

“Maybe. Let me give it some thought. There’s a lot of rough water before you get to captured ships for the Monster fleet, Recon. Are you sure you want to do this? There’s nothing wrong with us simply blasting it out of this dimension.”

“I’ve been thinking about the way Denny prepped us for the mission. I think he’s getting leaned on, and he doesn’t want to share. He’s taking the heat so we don’t have to worry about added crap on mission. I didn’t give it a thought until Crue suggested an alternate ending.”

“I admit I thought maybe there was something there extra in Denny’s briefing, but it was probably my inner psycho mostly prompting me to suggest rethinking the prisoner capture,” Crue said.

“Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery,” Tommy tacked on.

Lynn glided quickly next to Tommy with an arm around his shoulders. “Hey Cheese. Tommy never completed his swimming lessons. I think we have a few moments to finish his swimming instruction.”

Terror streaked across Tommy’s features as he looked from Crue to the rest of us silently watching him. Lucas lost it first with that braying laugh of his, followed by shared amusement from the rest of us as Tommy relaxed and pushed Cruella Deville away from him.

“I’m not part of this shit. Maybe I’ll go below now and sip a couple while you finish talking my brother into a suicide mission.” Tommy adjourned to the cabin deck, but not before looking back at me. “If you live through this, you and I will sip a few together on the way back to port.”

“Count on it, brother.” Yep. That would be one nice treat after completing this insanity. I never claimed any of us were right in the head though. It would be difficult to be both sane and a monster at the same time. The killer inside must be appeased; because no matter how we monsters hide it behind a moral cause, the killer’s presence lurks only a thin layer below the surface. If not fed, the dark side awaits.

* * *

“They are dead in the water, John.” Jafar joined me at the fantail where I was making final checks on my submersible equipment holder. “Are you sure you don’t want to get closer? Lucas said we can get nearer without any threat.”

“We swept in close enough for you to EMP their asses. That’s all the chances we’ll take right now. Hell, the XM25 can damage an area target up to nearly a half mile. They could have sniper rifles or some other conventional weapons to fire at us. Lucas has to keep us a moving target, and I’m comfortable with a mile. They have no sighting capabilities other than conventional. From a bobbing craft on the water shooting at another moving craft at a mile distance, we have a nice safety range with very little threat. I’ll be in constant contact. When I am within fifty yards, if they haven’t spotted me yet, it will be time for some culling of the herd on deck. By then, I’m hoping a lot of them will be in sight of all you spotters with a target rich environment. Crue’s on the fifty. If they start taking potshots at me, Lucas will sweep in closer, and Crue will adjust the population on board the tugboat.”

“That better not happen, big brother. I believe Ahab has already added the tugboat on to our fleet in his head,” Jafar replied.

Damn it! “I knew I shouldn’t have suggested it might make a good addition. I’ll probably have to mop the decks as I assault it.”

Jafar grinned and patted my shoulder. “I am afraid you are right. I believe Crue has already thought Lucas might block her from using the fifty. She’s trying to talk Casey into letting her shoot the M107.”

Oh great… there’s some good news. “So while I’m approaching a ship with men armed with God knows what, Case will be working a training session on the M107? This day just keeps getting better. Tell Ahab to cut the engines in five minutes. I’m going in.”

“Will do, John. Good luck.”

“Thanks. It sounds like I’m going to need it.” I’m glad I dozed off for a time before we hit the target. I feel fresh as wind driven snow… after a pack of wild dogs peed on it. At least I’m dressed in black. Going on mission in the banana suit would have been dangerous as well as humiliating, not that anyone I crewed with would have cared about the humiliating part. I know I could have counted on them to exterminate anyone with even an evil thought about ‘Mellow Yellow’.

Five minutes later, I kicked toward the tugboat, wrist mounted GPS in place. I had on the full face mask with com unit. “Testing. How’re the readings?”

“Good,” Jarar answered. “You’re right on course and coming in loud and clear. We have sighted fifteen men who have come onto the top deck. Clint took pictures, and the AWACS is feeding images too. We’ll know these guys history before you get to the boat if they’re on any database around. Clint says he already has a couple of likely suspects though.”

“Cheese. Bring back a shark,” Crue ordered. “I want to make shark fin soup tonight.”

“You don’t even know how to wash a dish or boil water. How the hell would you know how to make shark fin soup?”

“I’ll get the recipe off the Internet.”

I heard Tommy call out that it would entail following directions which would make her cooking goal an impossibility.

“Shut up, White Sands, before I tie you onto the fantail.”

Then a clip of bullets shot into the water only five yards to my right. “Hey! A little help here! Dive… dive… dive…”

Laughter followed me down. I straightened at fifteen feet under. Even .50 caliber bullets lose punch at that depth. I moved quickly toward the objective because if they were still firing, they would be aiming at the bubbles.

“You’ll be okay soon, John,” Clint said.

“In case you have Crue shooting bad guys with the M107, please remember I only have forty minutes of air.”

It took them a full five minutes to regain communications with me. I was smiling away listening to the string of threats and expletives my ace drew from Cruella Deville. In spite of her claims to the contrary, she was still mostly dish it but can’t take it.

“If you want to surface, Casey made the tugboat deck safe for democracy. Lucas made a run on it, and Clint tapped three possibles for taking your message below decks. Everyone with a head other than the three wounded have fled below decks,” Jafar told me. “You’re making great time. I see you at past the halfway mark.”

“Surfacing.” Contrary to my joke, I had enough air to make it easily the whole mile without snorkeling though. “I think if they were planning on blowing the tugboat with everything aboard, they would have done it by now.”

“That’s how we feel too. Do you still want us to remain at a distance?”

“Absolutely. No one gets near the ship until I secure every inch of it. I have to locate and find out what kind of explosives they were planning on detonating using The Roma as the spearhead. I don’t want the Wolf anywhere around until I find out.”

“Understood.”

The water, cold and choppy, made it a necessity to have my wrist GPS. The tugboat bobbed up and down in the water, but disappeared from my line of sight often. The GPS sure beat the old days with a compass. I halted twenty-five yards away from the fantail, watching for movement and what kind of exit I’d have to make. It looked just as I figured from the plans Denny sent once we knew what tugboat they were using. I would have to shed my gear, climb aboard, and then pull my equipment submersible on deck after – not an exit from the water to be done under fire.

“Final approach underway now.” I kicked to the bobbing fantail, aired my compensator vest all the way, stripped out of it, and allowed it to float on its own. “Climbing.”

“We see you, John,” Clint said. “No movement. The three I wounded are still lying forward port side, but now out of sight. I got all three twice each: leg and arm. You’ll still have to be careful. I didn’t see weapons, but that doesn’t mean shit.”

“Thanks, partner. I’ll be careful.”

I heard one of them screaming, so my climb aboard would definitely not be heard. My height made the last climb over the second railing which I did in one motion on the starboard side easy enough. It was a hundred and forty foot long boat with enough crap in the way to hide thirty guys. I yanked my equipment carrier aboard, backing behind the rear enclosure. Now that I was on board I thought my idea sucked. This wasn’t a little tugboat Tilly. What was I thinking? There had to be an unlimited number of hidey holes on this damn thing.

I stripped out of my wetsuit, while hugging the rear enclosure wall with my .45 caliber Colt near at hand from the equipment carrier. It only took minutes to slip into clothes and Kevlar. I felt much better when I had my Colt tucked away at my side, and the MP5 with silencer in my hands. Then it was time to check on the wounded. I had plenty of restraints in my vest, so I was ready to go. There was only one dead body with a pulped head on my level. I checked to see if he was armed when he died, but he wasn’t.

Climbing carefully to the second level, I spotted more pulped headed bodies, but no movement on either side. “I’m on the second level, Clint. I hear the screaming coming from the corner just out of my sight. I’m standing to head there now.”

“I see you. We are in great position to cover you. Lucas took us in to three hundred yards. It will be… wait one.”

I didn’t hear anything, but a body with half its head missing splattered from the upper level onto the port side of my level. No more inching around. I ran directly to the starboard corner where the screams were. Three men were writhing around on the deck.

“Take cover wherever you are, John. Lynn needs to rake the bridge. We have bodies popping up in sight looking around. I don’t know how many are hiding in there.”

“I’m down near your wounded, Clint. Tell her to cut loose. Thanks.”

I heard sustained .50 caliber armor piercing bursts striking the bridge plating, going through, and out the other side. Crue waited, then repeated the bursts. You can bet the occupants on the bridge weren’t happy, or alive. I had been watching my three potential message carriers. Two had pass through wounds in shoulders, one with a calf wound, and the other with a bullet wound at his hip. The screamer had a shoulder wound, but the second shot hit him in the groin. He was in a fetal position, rocking in pain. I shot him in the head.