The admiral peaked his fingers and looked at his men. “Any questions of the SEALs?” he asked. They shook their heads.
“All right, Commander. We’ll go with the Pegasus and the Sea Knight. The CAG isn’t here, but I’m sure he can spare one for a while. On the resupply and trip to Plato, give us a two-hour lead time so we can get your resupply on board and make your meet on time. We’ll want another two hours for the trip in from the west coast toward Plato. Commander Kenney will coordinate your need for weapons, ammo, and supplies. Anything else?”
Captain Wilson cleared his throat again. “Commander, I hear you have a new army rifle. Is it as good as I’ve heard?”
“Senior Chief Dobler can fill you in on that, sir,” Murdock said.
They looked at Dobler. “Sir, it’s called the Bull Pup, at least for now. It’s a dual-barreled weapon of about fourteen pounds. It has one barrel for 5.56mm rounds and another one on top to fire 20mm explosive rounds that are aimed and fuzed through a six-power scope, video camera, and a laser range finder. The laser is spotted on target, responds to the computer inside, and arms the round with the exact number of revolutions the spinning bullet needs to reach that spot.
“The rounds can be set to explode on contact or with a delayed fuze to shoot through sheet metal or light wooden walls. The rounds cost thirty dollars each. It carries a six-round magazine. The weapon is now under testing by the makers and will not be available to the army until the year 2005. We ordered specially made models because it’s such an advanced design.”
“So it will give a rifleman an airburst with a 20mm round,” the captain said. “That’s like shooting around a corner or over the back side of a building or hill.”
“We have found it’s tremendously effective, Captain,” Murdock said.
“I’d like to see one, Commander,” the Captain said.
“I’ll arrange that, Captain.”
The admiral stood and the rest of them came to attention.
“Thank you, gentlemen. We didn’t touch on the timing. It’s now about 1600. Your orders said at the first possible moment before those two freighters sail. Can you do it tonight?”
“Yes sir. We’d like to leave here so we can hit the port at first dark or as close to that as we can,” Murdock said.
“We’re about fifty miles off the Colombian port of Cartagena,” the captain said. “That’s about an hour and a half in the Pegasus so you don’t get shaken to pieces. Commander Kenney, you better get cracking on that materiel these men need.”
“Yes sir.”
“Work with Senior Chief Dobler,” Murdock said. The admiral looked at Murdock, then turned and left the compartment.
Two hours later, Murdock looked around the tightly efficient cabin of the Pegasus. The eighty-two foot craft had been specifically designed to insert and recover SEALs and other covert forces. It could rev up to 45 knots and had a range of 550 miles. A crew of five ran the boat. It wasn’t designed as a fighting craft but did carry mounts for 12.7mm machine guns and one Mark 19 40mm grenade launcher. The boat jolted along through the darkening Caribbean Sea at a little over thirty knots, cutting down the slamming into the light chop on the water.
They were ready. Murdock had made one last check on Canzoneri to be sure that his leg wound hadn’t opened up. It looked to him to be healing well. Mahanani gave the petard expert an okay for duty. Murdock told the corpsman to check the other wounded. Murdock’s wrist took a new bandage. Dobler’s round through his thigh was coming along well, not giving him any trouble. Jaybird’s shot left forearm was starting to heal. All ready for duty. They all settled into the boat.
Murdock had brought along three extra MP-5 submachine guns. They would be in drag bags with their explosives and other gear that they wouldn’t need at once. Their first job was to get into the water, then swim to shore and find the right ships in the harbor.
It was nearly 1930 when the SEALs rolled off the Pegasus and dropped into the warm Caribbean Sea. They had their buddy cords tied on and the eight two-man teams sank to fifteen feet, checked their compasses, and headed for the port city of Cartagena, Colombia. They had a little over a half mile to go.
At the entrance to the harbor, they all surfaced, and Murdock and Lam studied the situation. The brightly lit Navy Station showed to the left. To the right they saw the docks with six merchant ships tied up. Two of them were bathed in floodlights and were being loaded with huge cargo containers.
Murdock motioned for them to swim that way, and they went underwater again, using their rebreathers so they wouldn’t show any line of bubbles behind them.
The next time they came to the surface, barely breaking the water, they were at the first in a line of freighters. They could read the names: The Montrose, a Bolivian flagship, and The Mary Jane, registered in the the Bahama Islands. Murdock read the name on the bow of the big freighters and waved his men around them. They found the ones they wanted two down. The Winddriven and the Alpha Marie were the targets. They lay side by side and were dark. Evidently, the loading was finished.
The plan was for each squad to take one ship, to move up the side of the ships on ropes anchored by rubberized grappling hooks on the rail, then to capture any crewmen and guards on board, and then to wash down or otherwise ruin the two tons of cocaine on each ship.
Murdock sent DeWitt with his Bravo Squad to the Winddriven, and he moved up to the Alpha Marie. He had his men fasten their drag bags on the hull to the ship with large magnets with hooks on them made for that purpose. The waterproof bags rested just below the waterline so no lookout could see them.
The platoon leader threw the first grappling hook attached to quarter-inch nylon line that could hold more than a thousand pounds on a straight pull. On the second try, the hook caught. Murdock tested the hook by putting all his weight on the rope. It held. He passed the bottom of the line to Jaybird and began to go hand over hand, walking up the side of the ship and pulling upward on the rope. His MP-5 submachine gun was strapped over his back.
He had just cleared the side of the ship and climbed over the low rail when a shadow appeared in front of him. The shadow turned into a man with a submachine gun pointed directly at Murdock’s chest.
“Well, look at this. Froggy, froggy, what have I captured here? Make a move at that weapon, and you’ll be dead in a five-round burst.”
21
Murdock stared at the gun-wielding American. “¿Qué pasa? Qué pasa?” Murdock said, using his best Spanish accent.
“Oh, shit, you kidding? None of the greasers down here have frogman junk like you’re wearing. Full wet suits, breathers, masks, gloves, and even boots.”
“Inspección, inspección.” Murdock shouted, not knowing what else to do. He held out both his hands in a pleading gesture.
Two silenced rounds drilled into the gunman’s chest six feet in front of Murdock. The guard grunted and slammed backward, dropping the submachine gun he held and falling with dead weight against some pipes and pulleys on the deck.
Murdock charged forward and grabbed the weapon and checked the American. He was dead.
Jaybird climbed over the rail and grinned in the darkness through his camo-paint-splotched face.
“De nada,” Jaybird whispered. Together they lifted the body and carried it down a dozen feet along the rail and dropped it overboard. By then, two more SEALs were on deck, and they spread out as previously arranged. Murdock and Jaybird took the bridge; two more men cleared the area just below it. And two more took each of the other decks and areas where there might be crew or guards.