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“Orchid, Towmaster, Alpha Team away, messenger line passed, recommend slow ahead,” Lee passed to the Bridge.
“Towmaster, Orchid, roger,” Bunting said.
“Rudder amidships,” Hopkins said as she pushed both thrust levers just forward of the “Stop” detent. After five seconds, she moved both thrust levers back to Stop, as Kauai’s momentum allowed her to continue to creep slowly forward.
“Orchid, Towmaster, twenty feet to go...ten feet to go... Recommend stop.”
Hopkins pulled the thrust levers back to provide a small burst of reverse thrust and then moved them to Stop. The silent kabuki between Kauai and Carlos Rojas continued for about five minutes. Lee issued guidance from the afterdeck, and Hopkins used engines and rudder to hold the patrol boat in position while the tow was rigged.
“Position is good. Hold,” Lee transmitted, then provided a running report of the operation. “Messenger line paying out. Hold position. Messenger line is out. Hawser is going up. Hold position. Hawser is on board. Hold position. Alpha Team signaling hawser is rigged. Standing by.”
“Towmaster, Orchid, payout six hundred feet and then hold.”
“Helm, right ten degrees rudder, steer zero-four-five,” Hopkins ordered.
“Chief, my rudder is right ten degrees, coming to zero-four-five,” Pickins responded.
Hopkins moved both thrust levers just forward of Stop, and Kauai crept forward, turning slowly to the right. Within one minute, Carlos Rojas was lost from sight in the rain. After two more minutes, Ben’s voice burst from the radio speaker.
“Orchid, Alpha-One, hawser secured, all moorings cast off, ship ready for towing.”
As Bunting responded, Hopkins moved the thrust levers forward to a slightly higher power setting. “Bunting, I need an update on the towline,” Hopkins said.
The petty officer nodded, “Towmaster, Orchid, say status.”
“Orchid, Towmaster, six hundred feet paid out, hawser secured to towing bitt. Hawser is taking the load. Hawser lifting.”
Hopkins pulled the thrust levers back to Stop.
“Hawser steady, hawser settling,” Lee reported.
And so it went for the next five minutes. Hopkins applied bursts of thrust to pull the Carlos Rojas into alignment on a due east course out of the harbor. The deluge of rain was tapering off, and visibility was improving ahead when Ben’s voice finally reported again.
“Orchid, Alpha-One, passing zero-seven-five, still swinging right.”
Sam stepped forward and put his hand on Bunting’s shoulder. “I’ll take this.” He pressed his radio transmit button.
“Alpha-One, Orchid Actual, roger, hang on back there. We are coming out of the squall now,” Sam said as Hopkins moved the thrust levers forward to the ahead one-third position.
As quickly as it had come, the storm passed on, and Kauai was in clear air with Carlos Rojas just coming into view behind. Sam’s heart sank as the visibility increased to virtually unlimited, and flashes of lightning from other storms to the south and east were strobing at a rate of several strikes per minute. OK, not ideal, but we’ve been lucky so far. He looked over in the promontory’s direction. Stay asleep, you bastards, and we’ll all live through this. “Williams, Surface Action Port. Load high explosive incendiary. Find that KPV emplacement and put the gunsight on it. Weapons tight.”
“Aye, Captain, searching,” Williams said as he cued the EO/IR camera in the general direction they had recorded. He selected another control, and the main gun issued a series of clanks as the autoloader chambered a round. “Gun loaded with H.E., still searching for the target.”
“Very well,” Sam said and turned to Guerrero. “Up you go, Gunner.”
“Yes, sir. On the way,” Guerrero said, then turned and left the Bridge.
“You want me on Mount 52, Captain?” Hebert asked.
“No, you hang out here. That promontory is too far for effective fifty-caliber fire, and you’ll be too exposed on the mount. If we tangle with small boats, I’ll cut you loose.”
“Yes, sir,” Hebert said with some relief.
“Captain, I have movement on the promontory with the infrared camera,” Williams said. “Looks like two individuals.”
“Stay on them,” Sam said. Come on, don’t look this way. He winced as more lightning flashed off their starboard side. “Zuccaro, what’s our battery status and speed of advance?”
“Forty-one percent and four knots, sir,” the young petty officer replied after checking the figures.
It’s going to be close. From their testing, Sam knew the battery figure was deceptive. Power output from the battery bank dropped precipitously at levels below five percent. They had another fifteen minutes before he had to start the diesels. A series of lightning flashes erupted from the south as if on cue.
“Orchid, Cadillac Two Three, I’m getting calls from the peninsula. They may have seen you, over.”
Sam grabbed the handset. “Cadillac Two Three, Orchid. Can you confirm they have us?”
“Orchid, Two Three, negative. They are just trying to get through to the primary base. We are still jamming. This behavior is unusual—they do not have a regular call schedule.”
“Two Three, Orchid, roger out.” Sam replaced the headset and keyed his tactical radio. “Overwatch, Actual, you are weapons-free. Any searchlights swinging our way or gunfire, and you’re cleared to fire.”
“Understood, sir. Out,” Guerrero responded.
They were a little under a quarter-mile from the Gate; they would be abeam in three minutes at this speed. Another series of lightning flashes strobed off to starboard, and suddenly the bright beam of a searchlight stabbed into the darkness and hastened toward them.
“Crack!” went Guerrero’s rifle.
The searchlight went out at once, and gunfire erupted from the promontory. A rocket launched two seconds later and sped far overhead, sparks spewing from its tail. There was a loud pop, and then both ships were silhouetted in the blinding white light of a parachute flare. Hopkins keyed the intercom, “Main Control, Conn, Emergency Engine Start Sequence, now!”
“Williams, target on last known GPS coordinates for the KPV. Lay down a pattern. Suppressive fire, Batteries Release, Commence Fire!”
As the first diesel engine whirred to life, the main gun barked out three targeting shots, then started automatic fire on the hidden gun emplacement at two rounds per second, each shell a mini grenade exploding on contact. A series of pops distinct from the intensifying gunfire sounded from the nearby land. Within half a minute, all three diesel engines were operating and supplying power to the motors. Hopkins pushed the thrust levers forward to ahead two-thirds speed—now was the time to push the towline to the limit. She keyed her radio. “Towmaster, Conn, how’s the towline?”
“Conn, Towmaster, towline is taught. Almost no catenary, but it’s holding. I don’t think there’s much left!” Lee replied.
“Roger, stay under cover until further notice!”
“WILCO, out!” Lee said.
Sam’s primary worry, the KPV, had so far failed to materialize. The automatic fire from small arms was mainly falling short, with the occasional thump of a strike on the hull. He looked back at Carlos Rojas—the SEALs were returning fire with their squad automatic weapons. He unconsciously winced as he heard two objects hiss past the Bridge in the darkness. RPGs! There wasn’t anything more he could do about that threat except hope the long odds against a hit held. “Zuccaro, speed and position.”
“Six knots, sir. We are through the gate. Carlos Rojas is coming abeam now.”
Sam was about to reply when an enormous crash sounded just behind the Bridge, shattering the port bridge door window and almost throwing Sam and Hopkins off their feet. Standing back up, Sam shook his head to clear it. Shit, so much for the odds! “Everyone OK?” After receiving a thumbs up from the bridge crew, he keyed his radio. “All stations, RPG hit aft of the Bridge, report status. Williams, keep firing!”
“Yes, sir!” He had released the trigger in the shock of the hit. A moment later, the gun was banging away again.
“Conn, Towmaster, one casualty,” Lee’s voice said. “Jenkins is wounded and being moved inside now. Towline is holding. Hit appears to have been on the boat deck. No fire, over.”
Jenkins! Sam’s jaw clenched at the thought, but he had to put the young boatswain out of his mind for now. “Roger. Overwatch, report.”
“My ears are ringing. Otherwise, OK, sir. Over,” Guerrero reported.
“Conn, Main Control, systems normal, no damage, no casualties,” Drake reported over the intercom.
“Conn, aye,” Hopkins said.
“Hebert, Lee’s on her own. Get down to the afterdeck and help her!” Sam said.
“Aye, aye, sir!” Hebert said, then turned and ran back off the Bridge.
Sam winced again as a second flare burst over the scene just as the first burned out. Dammit, that guy knows his job! The flare was far behind them but was almost overhead the Carlos Rojas, and the gunfire was shifting to follow. Almost immediately, two explosions in close succession sounded from the towed vessel, followed a couple of seconds later by a sound like a cannon shot, and Kauai lurched forward.
“Conn, Towmaster, the towline has parted!” Lee reported.
As Hopkins brought the thrust levers to Stop, Sam hung his head and unconsciously pounded his right fist on his thigh. “Towmaster, Captain, cut the line!”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
Williams’s jaw tightened as he tried to concentrate on laying down fire. They had to cut the hawser—it was useless now and, dragging over the stern, was an extreme risk to Kauai during maneuvering. Unfortunately, “cut the line” meant Lee had to take the sharpened ax and chop through ten inches of strengthened fiber out in the open air of the afterdeck in an environment alive with gunfire and rockets. Hopkins glanced down and saw Williams’s expression and reached down to give his shoulder a light squeeze.
“Alpha-One, Orchid Actual, prepare to abandon ship. We’ll be dropping back to pick you up.”
“Orchid, Alpha-One, roger, sir. We may have engines shortly, will advise.”
After a minute, which seemed like an eternity to Sam, Lee came on the radio again. “Captain, Towmaster,” she panted. “Towline cut and clear!”
Thank God! “Well done, Lee! Get inside now!”
“Chef and I <pant> are already <pant> there, sir!”
Williams let out his breath, and Hopkins released her hold on his shoulder with a soft pat.
Like Sam over on Kauai, Ben had to suppress the urge to jump every time lightning flashed out on the starboard side. The rain had passed entirely, and visibility was nearly perfect. Ben and Lopez had nothing to occupy their attention as the ships slowly moved out of the harbor, unlike their shipmates on the other vessel. He was thoroughly frightened and deduced Lopez was in the same state.
“So, Lope, when we were debriefing after the last one, Captain Mercier told us you would get some ‘special’ attention over at Law Enforcement School. Did that come to pass?”
“Oh, yeah, sir. While everyone else in my class was living the good life in Charleston every weekend, I was getting advanced small arms and personal defense training shoved up my ass!”
“I hear ya. I got the same thing up in Quantico. Like to freeze my ass off on that small arms range all day.” He winced again in the darkness as a long series of lightning flashes strobed across the starboard side. It was actually quite beautiful, the bolts weaving up from the surface of the Caribbean and then winding through and lighting up the clouds from within. He wished he could enjoy the view. “Quite a show.”
“No shit, sir,” Lopez said in a measured voice. “I’d prefer to see this movie in the next showing, though.”
Ben laughed, then looked forward in alarm as a searchlight lanced into the darkness from the promontory, followed by the sound of gunfire. “Shit!” He keyed his radio. “Alpha-Four, One, light off now!”
“Alpha-One, Four, roger, lighting off!” Brown replied.
As the first flare burst off to starboard, a muffled whirring sounded deep in the hull, followed by the rattling rumble from the smokestacks as the ship’s generator fired. The main engines needed a lot more power to turnover than the batteries could provide, so step one was getting a generator running. As the generator’s noise topped out, a second, louder whirring came up from the engine spaces. Ben’s heart sank when the initial rumble of the large engine died away. A second main engine start sequence sounded a few seconds later, with the same result. Ben was about to key his radio, then thought better of it. An inquiry at this point would just distract Brown from his work. The sound of automatic gunfire came up from the well deck—the SEALs joined the fight with their heavy machine guns.
The fight between Kauai and the promontory was heating up, and Ben could hear the ‘thumps’ every half-second from the main gun and see the tracers streak across the water. Williams was doing a good job keeping the pressure on. So far, nothing more than small arms fire was being thrown their way. Suddenly, a flash followed by an enormous boom came from Kauai, and the main gun ceased firing. “Shit, shit, shit!” Ben exclaimed, pounding his fist on the helm console. After a few seconds, the rapid thumping and twenty-five-millimeter tracer streaks returned, and Ben let out an enormous sigh of relief.
Ben was about to comment on a second flare that had appeared almost overhead when an enormous blast threw him onto the deck. One moment he was standing there; the next, he was flat on his face, covered in broken glass. “Lope!”
“Here, sir! I’m OK!” the young petty officer said as he got to his knees.
Ben looked behind the Bridge. The rocket had apparently hit the port smokestack, which was now shredded. He had just gotten to his feet and pulled Lopez up when the second rocket hit the foredeck. This time, the forward windows shattered, and the two men were thrown down again. Worse, shrapnel from the explosion sliced through some outer strands of the towing hawser. Given the enormous strain the line was under, there could be only one result: the cascade of individual strand failures in milliseconds merged into one loud “Bang.” The two new ends shot away from the breakpoint, one slamming into Carlos Rojas’s superstructure with a loud “clang” and the other falling into the water just short of Kauai.
Ben looked forward in shock as they got to their feet again, then keyed his tactical radio. “Alpha-Four, Alpha-One, we just lost the towline. We need main engines now, or we’re dead!”
“Almost there, sir! We’ve fixed the problem and are closing up now!”
“For God’s sake, hurry!”
“Yes, sir!”
Ben’s command radio came alive. “Alpha-One, Orchid Actual, prepare to abandon ship. We’ll be dropping back to pick you up.”
“Orchid, Alpha-One, roger, sir. We may have engines shortly, will advise.” He turned to Lopez. “Lope, get down to the well deck and tell the SEALs to evacuate as soon as Kauai comes alongside, then find Simmons and tell him to light the torch.”
“Yes, sir!” the young man said, then made for the door with his feet crunching on the shattered glass covering the deck.
“Alpha-Four, One, we’ll be abandoning in about two minutes!”
“Yes, sir. Attempting start on starboard engine now!”
The whirring of the start sequence sounded again, but this time, the rattling grumbles continued and built up volume and tempo. Yes! Go, baby!
“Alpha-One, Alpha-Four, starboard engine on the line and ready to answer all bells!”
“Well done, Dave!” He moved the right thrust lever forward, watching with satisfaction as the propeller pitch and r.p.m. increased. “Orchid, Alpha-One, starboard engine online, and we’re making way!”
“Well done, Alpha Team! Follow us.” Sam’s voice responded.
Ben reminded himself that they were not out of the woods as a few stray rounds from shore pinged off a windowsill. “Alpha-Three, One, we’re sticking with it for now. Get back to the Bridge.”
“One from Three, on the way, sir,” Lopez said.
Ben looked at the panel. At two-thirds speed on the starboard engine, they were making eight knots. They would have to follow Kauai to navigate as the rockets’ explosions had knocked out the compass. The whirring sound returned, signaling a start attempt on the port engine. This one was successful.
“Alpha-One, Alpha-Four, port engine ready to answer all bells.”
“Four, One, roger, out.” He was advancing the left thrust lever to match the right when Lopez came through the bridge door. The firing was tapering off as the pit log steadied at twelve knots. “Feel like taking the helm? You need to stay on Kauai’s tail—the compass is shot to hell.”
“I’ve got it, sir,” Lopez said, stepping over to the helm.
“Thanks. I’m heading down to see what’s going on.”
“Right, sir.”
Ben crunched over to the door and headed to the well deck. When he arrived, he noted two men were down being tended by a medic and froze in his tracks. “John!”
“Over here, sir,” came a voice from his right.
Ben almost cried out with relief. “Glad to see you in one piece.”
“Yes, sir, you too. It was pretty hot down here, but I about shit myself when those rockets hit forward. How are things back at home?”
“Kauai took a rocket hit behind the Bridge. I heard on the command net that Jenkins went down. Shelley was on her own for a while. She’s the one who axed the towline after it broke.”
“Shit! Any word on the kid?” Bondurant’s face was a mask of concern.
“Hang on a minute. Senior Chief D’Agostino?”
“Here, Lieutenant.”
“How are your men?”
“I’ve got two with minor wounds, but they’re both ambulatory.”
“That’s good news. We’re making twelve knots, but the dopers could still catch up with us in the boats we saw.”
“Not happening, sir. We cut all their fuel lines before we took the ship, and we also have their only mechanic below us now. This one’s over.”
“It’s a distinct pleasure dealing with professionals, Senior Chief,” he said as he offered his hand.
“Likewise, sir,” D’Agostino said as he shook it. “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to get back to my guys.”
“Certainly.” He keyed his command radio. “Orchid, Alpha-One, Alpha Team is all OK. Greenman has two casualties, both minor wounds. Do you have any report on Jenkins? Over.”
“Alpha-One, Orchid Actual, roger. He took some shrapnel in the arm and thigh. He’s out for this round, but should recover.”
“That’s a relief, sir. We have both engines online, but the Bridge is beaten up. We’ll need to follow you to the dumpsite.”
“Roger that. Two hours at present speed.”
“Thank you, sir.” He turned to Bondurant. “Jenkins took some shrapnel from the rocket hit, but he’ll be OK.”
“OK. Thank you, sir,” Bondurant said with his head down.
“Hey, we’re not done yet. Could you head up to the Bridge and keep Lope on the straight and narrow for me?”
“On the way, sir.” The big boatswain shouldered his carbine as he headed forward.
Ben turned and went inside to find Simmons and Gerard. According to the briefing, the lab was just forward of the engineering spaces in a medium-sized compartment. As Ben neared the room, he could hear a muffled conversation. He knocked when he reached the door and called out, “Wyporek!”
The door opened. Gerard stepped out and nodded for Ben to enter. As Ben walked into the room, he noted Simmons guarding two men in the corner. Gerard stepped in behind him and started gathering up some loose gear in the center of the compartment.
“I presume we survive to fight another day,” Simmons quipped.
“It was close, but yes, we’re clear,” Ben said. He glanced at the two tanks. “Is that it?” he asked as a chill ran through him.
“Yes. It’s a binary compound. Each component is safe on its own,” Simmons answered. “We have the computers and hard drives rigged with thermite and just finished un-rigging the product generators and tanks. Don’t want to take any chances.”
“Right. Well, I have to get back to it. We’ve got a couple of hours to go before we get to the dump point,” Ben said.
“I’m afraid to ask, but what was the final bill?” Simmons asked.
“Kauai took an RPG just aft of the Bridge, and Jenkins was hit by shrapnel, but he’ll pull through. Two of the SEALs are down, but D’Agostino says they’ll be OK. It could have been a hell of a lot worse.”
“Jenkins? Dammit! I really like that kid. I hope he bounces back.”
“Time will tell. OK, you need any help down here?”
“No, we’ve got it. Please give me a heads up when we’re ready to leave. We don’t want to activate the thermite until we are ready to step off. It will burn through the tables and go right on through the deck.”
“Got it. I’ll see you soon.”
Ben left the men in the room and walked back to the well deck. It felt good to get back into the open night air, and he indulged himself for about a quarter of an hour, watching the lightning arcing through the distant rain clouds. Then he headed back to the Bridge for the rest of the transit.
