Ball threw off his poncho liner and got up.
“What happened?”
“Sanctions violator made a run for it last night. We’re going to take it down.”
“Who’s going?”
“You and me. It’s our turn in the barrel. Get suited up with the basic stuff. We brief in fifteen minutes. We’ll come back here after the briefing if we need more shit.”
“Okay.”
T-Ball and Hooke began by donning flight suits and bulletproof vests. Each had a load-bearing vest fitted over the body armor that was designed to carry ammunition and a few select tools of the trade. It even had a bladder in the back for carrying water called a “Camelbak” to prevent dehydration in the hot Arabian sun.
Gunner’s Mate Second Class Tommy Ving, another teammate, entered the shop carrying two large bags.
“I drew weapons from the armory — what do you guys want?”
“Shotgun,” said Hooke.
“I’ll go with the CAR,” T-Ball replied referring to the M-16 variant used by SpecOps forces.
“You sure? Shotgun might be better on the ship.”
“Nah, I’m more comfortable with the 5.56.”
Each Tech wore a nine millimeter Beretta on his hip as a last line of defense.
T-Ball, Hooke, and their officer in charge, Lieutenant Guterson, were the last to arrive for the briefing. Gear and weapons were stowed neatly in the back of the briefing room. T- Ball and Hooke removed their packs and set them down, stowed their weapons, then took their seat next to Guterson.
One of the ship’s Intelligence Officers began the brief. If they were not on a military ship, T-Ball would have thought the man was hung over. He clearly had not slept in many days.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Yesterday afternoon USS Elliot encountered a suspected sanctions violator; motor vessel Green Leon. Elliot made several attempts to hail the ship with no response. She continued to track and report but could not pursue because she was involved in another boarding at the time. USS San Jacinto was directed to leave her station in plane guard in order to track and pursue the Leon. San Jac has remained beyond Leon’s visual and radar range.”
The officer clicked on a projector with a remote, displaying a photo of a container ship on the wall behind him.
“This is a file photo of the Leon. Note she has a large deckhouse aft and a small one forward. We believe that all living spaces are in the aft house; it is almost ten stories off the waterline. The forward one probably just houses storage for the ship, line lockers and the windlass machinery rooms.”
He clicked the remote again. Now there was a naval architecture drawing of the Leon depicting a view of the ship from the right side.
“This is the general layout of the Leon. It is a composite from the shipyard that built her ten years ago and intelligence gathered after she came under suspicion nine months ago for smuggling military parts into Iraq. The debrief from a SCI classified source noted that she had modifications from her original configuration. One of the most notable changes was that she might have received an upgrade to her communications suite that will enable her to provide early warning to Iraqi national assets without any effort. Keep an eye out for this suite. As always the codeword for a sophisticated comm suite is ‘Five Aces,’ the word for contraband weapons is ‘Thoroughbreds,’ and for illegal fuel oil is ‘Payback.’”
T-Ball only half paid attention to the intel brief. He was distracted thinking of Jeannie. He looked at his divewatch. She was probably sending the kids to bed right now, half a world away.
When he focused again, Ball realized that he was not the only one who was drifting off, almost half the SEALs returned to their Sunday slumber. Ball thought that at this point in the float, all the intel briefs sounded the same. After four months at sea, each of the Techs on the detachment had by now completed countless boardings with the SEALs.
Despite living and working together, Ball did not know any of the SEALs very well. The SEALs usually treated the Techs like they were the junior varsity. On most missions the EOD Techs stayed in the rear, only coming forward if a booby trap was located or if explosives or some ordnance were found. It was only then that the Techs were treated like royalty.
Lieutenant Holt was the SEAL officer in charge for this operation. He was one of two SEAL Squad Leaders on the George Washington. The other was Lieutenant Junior Grade Barnes. Holt gave his standard brief reviewing the team assignments, their movements on the ship, and everyone’s call sign. T-Ball would be with the first SEAL squad and would use call sign “Echo One” on the radio. Hooke was “Echo Two.”
Holt always ended his brief the same way. “Okay, I want everyone fully geared up when you walk out this door. Balaclava hoods and Protec helmets on. Body armor, assault vests and packs on. All radios on but secured for the rope-in. Hoods over faces, lock and load weapons and secure them for the fast rope when you get the word that we are five minutes out. Questions?”
There were none.
“Right, then let’s go get ‘em!”
The ship was still quiet as the team traversed the passageways to the flight deck. Because it was Sunday and a “no fly” day most of the crew was allowed to sleep in. T-Ball felt the stares of the few Washington crewmembers that did see the takedown team. It was not common to see sailors wearing black rappelling helmets, body armor, tactical vests, and carrying assault weapons, striding down the ship’s passageway. In fact, most of the ship would never hear of their exploits.
A pair of SH-60 Seahawk helicopters was already turning on deck. Their blades pushed a high volume of air, causing them to jump slightly against the tie-down chains that secured them to the ship. T-Ball was the first to enter the aircraft. He sat down on the canvas seat, placed his weapon between his legs with the barrel pointed down, and watched the horizon move slowly up and down with the movement of the ship.
When both aircraft were full, a pair of blue-shirted flight deck crewmen slid under the rotors and removed the tie-down chains. T-Ball looked forward through the cockpit window and watched the yellow shirt signal the pilot to takeoff. In seconds they were flying.
The ocean sliding by at over a hundred knots mesmerized T-Ball and he lost track of time. He thought of home, daydreaming again about seeing Jeannie, Ted junior, and his daughter Kathryn. In a few days the ship would pull into Jebel Ali and he would be able to call them. He reminded himself to send Jeannie an email before the day was through.
One of the SEALs, the one they called Digger, tapped him. He looked over. Digger pointed outside. T-Ball looked out the open door to see San Jacinto. Ball always thought the silhouette of an Aegis cruiser, with its tall superstructure and five inch guns both fore and aft, emanated Navy.
Ball remembered that San Jac would be following the Leon, so the target ship would not be far away.
T-Ball felt someone tap him again. He looked away from San Jac toward the front left side of the cabin. Senior Chief Daranchak who was the Helo-Rope Suspension Team (HRST) Master held up both hands, fingers spread and mouthed, “Ten minutes.”
T-Ball double-checked his gear. He collapsed the stock on his weapon so that he could move with it easier through the close quarters of the merchant ship. His vest carried five magazines of 5.56 ammunition for the M-16, and one magazine was loaded in the weapon. He had two magazines of nine millimeter rounds on his belt and one already in his sidearm. The front of his vest also had pouches carrying dikes, crimpers, electrical tape, leather gloves for the rope, and paracord — the basic tools of the trade. On his back was a specially tailored pack for EOD Technicians.