Primary Target (1999) (49 page)

"Take it up," he yelled. "Get outta here!"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Jackie shouted as she pulled every ounce of power she could from the straining engine.

As they climbed away, Scott stepped forward to the cockpit. "If you'll make an approach straight at the stern, I think I can keep him pinned down until I can jump on the transom."

"Scott," she said in an even, calm voice. "That's over-thetop. What are you going to do if you get aboard?"

"I'll figure that out after I get there," he said with a slow smile.

She frowned, then checked the engine instruments. "This is not a good idea, believe me."

"If you have a better idea, I'm willing to listen." Without uttering another word, Jackie flew a wide arc to approach the yacht from the rear.

While the captain of Sweet Life wiped blood from his face and neck, Ramazani looked around the shattered pilothouse. There were holes in the overhead and glass and debris scattered everywhere. He turned to the first mate. "Get below and secure the hatch to the engine room!"

Without saying a word, the hollow-eyed man ran to the companionway leading to the main deck.

Ramazani checked the time and distance to the impact point with the supercarrier. Eight minutes and twenty seconds. If I could just knock that helicopter out of the air.

Jackie flew low and fast as she approached the yacht. Scott kept the Glock trained on the aft opening to the wheelhouse. When Ramazani suddenly appeared, Scott fired four rounds as the terrorist fired a short burst at the helicopter and ducked inside.

"Keep it coming," Scott said as he stepped out on the landing skid. "We're almost there."

Nearing the transom, Jackie rapidly slowed the Long-Ranger while Scott kept firing rounds through the opening to the bridge. At the last second he leaped off the skid and landed on the sundeck, then slid off the aft end of the deck and fell on the transom.

Seeing Ramazani reappear, Jackie quickly banked the helicopter to make a 180-degree turn as a round ricocheted off the copilot's door. A second later two more rounds penetrated the engine compartment. Completing the turn, she cringed when another round ripped through the cabin.

Scott entered the main salon and came face-to-face with a man brandishing a rifle. Both men fired at the same instant and the Iranian slumped backward and fell over an L-shape
d
lounge. He was dead before he hit the carpet.

With a rivulet of blood running down the outside of his thigh, Scott raced forward through the mahogany-paneled dining room. He was about to climb the ladder leading to the pilothouse when a fusillade of rounds ripped into the bulkhead next to him. Scott dashed into an elegant king-size master stateroom and froze when he saw an open crate of AK-47s.

He grabbed one of the rifles and stuck the Glock down the small of his back, then opened the double doors leading to a teakwood trimmed sitting room. Scott stopped and stared when he recognized the Russian nuclear symbol on the large steel container. They do have a nuke.

"Give it up," Ramazani ordered from the master stateroom. "Your friend crashed the helicopter and you're trapped." He's lying, Dalton told himself as his heart stuck in his throat. He could feel his pulse pounding. I hope he's lying. "There is no way out," Ramazani declared with confidence in his voice. "It's time for you to make peace with your God."

Scott spied a carpet-covered hatch.

"You and this boat," Ramazani said contemptuously, "are going to be vaporized in six minutes."

With no other way out of the sitting room, Scott fired a few rounds into the stateroom and opened the hatch. He dropped into a narrow, softly lighted passageway leading to the engine room. If I can disable the engines, the detonation isn't going to obliterate Jacksonville.

When he reached the T in the passageway under the main deck, he stopped and silently cursed. The hatch leading to the engine room was chained shut with two interlocking chains and three heavy-duty padlocks. This son of a bitch is clever.

A second later Ramazani sprayed the access space with rifle fire. "Drop your rifle and come out."

"I don't think so," Scott said as he held the AK-47 out in the main passageway and fired a burst in return.

"Don't be a fool," Ramazani cautioned. "If you toss down your weapon, you can swim for your life."

"I don't trust cowards," Scott said sarcastically as he frantically looked around. He saw two things that gave hi
m
hope--a hatch directly above his head and a bronze underwater through-hull fitting. Moving swiftly, he checked to see if the small overhead hatch would open. He shoved it up a couple of inches and discovered an aft stateroom.

"You are trying my patience," Ramazani said in a threatening voice. "You cannot escape from here, unless I allow you to leave. Surely you would like to leave before the ship explodes, wouldn't you?"

"Massoud, that's a stupid question," Scott said as he squeezed off another few rounds down the passageway, then opened the full-flow seacock. Seawater gushed into the yacht as he used the butt of the assault rifle to break the handle off the seacock. I hope we're taking on water faster than the bilge pumps can pump it overboard.

Scott turned and shoved the rifle up through the hatch, then scrambled into the stateroom. He cautiously opened the door and spotted a deckhand carrying an AK-47.

"Take a hike," Scott growled as the startled man dropped his weapon and ran toward the aft deck. Dalton fired a few parting shots as the terrorist jumped over the transom and disappeared in the churning wake.

Without warning, Ramazani stepped out of the master stateroom. Scott pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

Chapter
49

The Longranger
.

J
ackie watched a man jump into the yacht's wake, then U bob up and flail the surface of the water as he disappeared under the belly of the helicopter. Unsure if it was Scott, she made a tight, spiraling descent and buzzed the man. Stricken with panic, the deckhand was churning the water in a desperate attempt to keep from drowning.

Jackie pulled up and glanced at the aircraft carrier in May-port Basin. Hurry, Scott. Take control of the yacht. She gazed at the channel leading to Kennedy. If the yacht maintained her present course and speed, she would enter the channel near the shoreline in approximately five minutes.

"Jax approach," she radioed. "LongRanger Three-NinerFive Tango has been hit by gunfire, but I'm going to stay close to the yacht."

"Niner-Five Tango," an excited voice said, "we have help on the way!"

Jackie scanned the water in every direction. "I don't see anything that's going to be able to stop the yacht."

A calmer voice broke in. "There are two armed F/A-18s that have been recalled from a training mission. They've been ordered to sink the yacht."

"Oh, my God," Jackie said to herself, then took a breath and keyed the radio. "On whose orders?"

"The Pentagon, ma'am," the controller answered in a pleasant voice. "From what we understand, it came straight from the secretary of defense."

Taking time to compose herself, Jackie spoke slowly and clearly. "We have a friendly on the yacht. Repeat, we have a friendly operative on the yacht. Do not fire on the yacht until he's clear. Do not fire on the yacht. Copy?"

"Stand by."

"Let me speak to management."

"Stand by."

Jackie darted another look at the carrier and commenced a shallow descent toward the yacht. She estimated four minutes until the yacht entered the channel. Come on, Scott. You don't have much time.

A hail of gunfire rang out as Dalton leaped sideways into the stateroom and slammed the door. He drew the Glock from the small of his back and made an educated guess as to where Ramazani was standing in the passageway.

"Well," Scott said loudly, "I guess you win."

"I always do."

The terrorist leader sounded as if he was in front of the entrance to the stateroom. Scott fired three rounds through the thin wooden door and heard a clatter as Ramazani's rifle hit the deck.

Scott kicked the splintered door open and caught a glancing blow as Ramazani swung the rifle upward. Dalton grabbed both ends of the weapon and slammed the terrorist against a bulkhead. Although Ramazani was bleeding from a stomach wound, he fought back with brutal ferocity. Calling on all the strength he had, Scott threw the terrorist into the opposite bulkhead, then caught him with a vicious uppercut. The blow fractured Ramazani's jaw and rendered him semiconscious.

Nose to nose, Scott held him against the bulkhead. "I think this cruise is about over, don't you?"

Ramazani mumbled a few incoherent words as Dalton released his grip on him. When the terrorist leader slid to
. T
he deck, Scott grabbed the AK-47 and rushed into the master stateroom to get a fresh magazine. After checking th
e
passageway for other crew members, Scott stepped over Ramazani and headed for the aft ladder leading to the sun-deck.

"Jax approach," Jackie said, then fell silent when she saw Scott climbing the ladder leading to the sundeck and bridge. Thank God.

"Who's calling approach?"

With a sense of relief, she aimed the helo toward the yacht. I have to get him off the yacht.

"Jax approach," she said mechanically. "Niner-Five Tango has the agent in sight. I'm going in to pick him up." "Negative! Negative!"

Jackie ignored the controller and started her approach to the sundeck. The yacht appeared to be riding lower in the water. It looks like we're down to about three minutes.

"We have two fighters closing from eighteen miles," the controller exclaimed. "They're supersonic and cleared to fire on the target."

"Dammit!" Jackie radioed in a flash of anger. "Listen up! There's an American agent onboard! He works directly for the national security adviser! Do not open fire on the yacht until the agent is clear!"

"Ma'am, we don't give the orders. We just pass 'em along."

Jackie concentrated on leveling off thirty yards behind the yacht. "Well, pass this along to the fighter pilots. The operative is a former naval aviator--a Marine Harrier pilot."

Reaching the sundeck, Scott crouched behind an inflatable dinghy as the first mate fired a burst at him, then ducked into the pilothouse. Dalton waved Jackie away and fired a few rounds through the door to the bridge. A moment later the first mate stumbled out on the sundeck and fell to his hands and knees. Bleeding from wounds in his chest and neck, he crawled forward a few feet and collapsed facedown on the deck.

Scott was about to rush the pilothouse when something clamped around his ankle.

The Hornet
s
Lieutenant Commander Carl Zukowski keyed his radio. "Easing the power, easing the power," he said to his wing-man, Lieutenant Alan Swindell.

"Stand by the boards ... boards," Zukowski said as the pilots "popped" the speedbrake to rapidly decelerate as they approached the yacht.

"We'll get a visual ID," Zukowski radioed in a laid-back voice, "then set up for a firing pass."

"Ah, roger."

"Wildcat Four-Fourteen," the Jax approach controller said to Zukowski, "be advised that a government agent is onboard the yacht. A civilian helo is in the process of picking him up"

"Copy," Zukowski said as he searched for the yacht and the helicopter. "Tell 'em to hurry 'cause we're runnin' outta gas."

"I'll pass that along." The controller paused a moment. "By the way, the agent on the yacht is a former Marine pilot."

Swindell glanced at his flight leader's plane, then keyed his radio. "That won't be any loss."

Startled by the unexpected attack, Scott lashed out at Ramazani as the terrorist stabbed him in the lower leg with a six-inch Kalashnikov bayonet. Swinging the rifle with both hands, Scott mashed Ramazani's face flat, breaking his nose. The stunned man fell off the ladder and landed headfirst on the wide transom, snapping his neck. Although Ramazani was still alive, he could not do any more damage.

Grimacing from the searing pain in his leg, Scott yanked the blade out of his calf, then heard a familiar sound above the beat of the LongRanger's rotor blades. He looked up to see two Hornets screeching low over the water in tight formation. Uh-oh, it's time to check out.

Scott turned and looked toward the Mayport Naval Station. The Kennedy was a tempting target and the speeding yacht was turning into the channel. We're going to hit the boat in about two minutes.

Struggling to his feet, Scott again waved Jackie away an
d
limped toward the pilothouse. Firing short bursts through the open door and the aft bulkhead, he was halfway to the entrance when the captain suddenly opened fire.

Jackie watched in horror as Scott dropped to the deck and returned fire. A man in a blood-soaked shirt stumbled onto the sundeck, then staggered backward in a series of spasmodic jerks. His legs crumbled under him as he dropped his AK-47, then fell against the wheelhouse and tumbled head over heels into the water.

She looked up to see the two Hornets rolling in for a firing pass. "Jax approach," she frantically radioed, "tell them not to fire! The agent has gained access to the bridge! He's in command of the yacht!"