| |
“Alpha-One, Orchid, we’ve reached the location. Heave to and shut down. Over.”
“Orchid, Alpha-One, WILCO, out.” Ben pulled both thrust levers back to Stop, and the noise of the main engines drew back to idle. He keyed the transmit button on his team radio and said, “Alpha-Four, One, that’s it for this one. Secure all engines and come up.”
“Roger, sir,” Brown said.
“OK, guys, I’ll meet you on the well deck,” Ben said to Bondurant and Lopez. After they had crunched away, Ben stood briefly looking around the Bridge. “You did good, old girl,” he said, patting the helm. Then he turned and left the Bridge for the ladder.
When he reached the well deck, the SEALs were gathering in one corner, and his team, plus one man in civilian clothes, were chatting in the other. As Ben walked over, Brown spoke up, “XO, this is Mr. Dominguez, DEA. He’s the one who got the engines running.”
Ben grabbed his outstretched hand and shook it warmly. “I don’t know how to thank you, sir. You saved all our asses for sure back there.”
“Believe me, Lieutenant, it was my pleasure. Couldn’t have done it without Dave here.” Dominguez nodded toward Brown.
“Noted. Thank you,” Ben said. He turned to Bondurant. “Boats, how about you guys check with the SEALs and see if they need any help with their wounded guys or gear?”
“On it, sir. C’mon, guys,” Bondurant said, leading the other two petty officers to the SEAL group.
Ben watched as Kauai swung around Carlos Rojas’s stern in the pre-dawn twilight. Since the rocket hit on the boat deck had wrecked the RHIB, Kauai would have to come alongside to take them off. The paperwork on that one is going to be a nightmare. Ben smiled to himself. How do you know you’re safe? When the paperwork is your chief worry.
Dominguez stepped up beside him. “I heard she took an RPG hit. It looks like she came out OK.”
“Yes, it definitely could have been worse. Changed our plans for getting off using the small boat. It’s a little riskier for her to come alongside, but at least the seas are calm. Should be pretty quick.”
“Right,” Dominguez said. “This will be my first time on a Coast Guard cutter.”
Ben was about to reply when his vision exploded in stars and then went black.
“All hands, prepare for a direct approach to the vessel, rig fenders on the port side,” Hopkins announced over the PA and replaced the microphone. She set the patrol boat up for a shallow approach to Carlos Rojas’s starboard side, pressing the vessels together just long enough to disembark everyone. The sense of relief on the Bridge was pervasive. They had all come through, and now only one last detail to carry out.
She glanced over to ask Zuccaro for a position report when the sound of gunfire, first one, then several guns, erupted from the other vessel. In shock, Hopkins froze for a moment, then pulled the thrust levers back to Stop. “Captain!”
Sam keyed his radio. “Alpha-One, Orchid Actual.” He paused as the gunfire came to a stop. “Alpha-One, Orchid Actual, report!”
“Orchid, Alpha-Two, XO is down, repeat, XO is down,” Bondurant’s voice came from the speaker.
Sam’s mouth opened in silence. A gigantic icy ball had formed in his stomach. No! That can’t be right. He blinked and looked around the Bridge—everyone was looking at him. He keyed the radio again. “Alpha-Two, Orchid Actual, roger, report, over.”
“Orchid, Alpha-Two, one of the gang bangers must have been hiding out somewhere. He just opened up with an AK. The SEALs shredded him. I’m going to the XO now. The DEA man is down, too.”
“Alpha-Two, Orchid, roger, see to them and report when able.”
“Roger, sir, standby.”
“XO, XO!” Bondurant’s voice echoed from a distant place.
Ben could feel hands on him, and he was being shaken gently. He slowly opened his eyes and had a brief bout of panic as he saw only a faint light. What’s wrong? Why is it dark? He relaxed as he remembered. Because it’s night, dumbass! His head felt like it was exploding. “Wha...What happened?”
“Lie still, sir. The medic’s coming,” Bondurant said.
Ben turned toward the voice when his head exploded in pain again. “Shit!”
There was some movement, and another voice said, “Freeze, Lieutenant, let me check you out.” Gradually, his head and vision cleared, and the voice continued. “OK, sir. It looks like you took an AK round off your helmet. I don’t see any wounds. Can you tell me how you feel?”
“Bad headache. It’s fading, though. No other pain and I can feel everything.” Ben wiggled his toes to make sure.
“Orchid, Alpha-Two, XO is OK, just got his bell rung,” Bondurant reported. “Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I will.”
He’s talking to the captain. Why can’t I hear it? Oh, my helmet is off.
The medic leaned over. “Right, I want to see if you can sit up. Don’t push it. We’ll stop if something doesn’t work or there’s too much pain.”
“OK,” Ben said. He felt hands under his shoulders lift him, and he sat up. Another wave of pain passed over him, and then he said, “So far, so good.”
“Alright, we’re going to help you to your feet now. No heroics, sir. If you can’t make it or the pain gets too much, say so.”
“WILCO,” Ben said. Then hands helped pull him up. “I’m a little dizzy, but I think I can stand OK.”
“That’s enough for now, sir. You lean on your shipmate for a while.”
“OK,” Ben said. His head was still clearing, and he would not argue. “Boats?”
“Yes, sir,” Bondurant said.
“What happened?”
“One doper just popped up. He must have been holed up in a hidden compartment. No one saw him until he opened up with an AK. Then the SEALs took him out.”
“Anyone besides me get hit?” At Bondurant’s silence, he continued. “Tell me.”
“Sir, the DEA man, Dominguez. He’s dead. Took one right through the head. The rest of us are OK.”
“Son of a bitch!” Ben hung his head, his headache returning. “He saved our lives, and I don’t want him left behind. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir, I’ve seen to that. We are putting him in a litter we took from the ship’s sickbay.”
I should have known. “Sorry, Boats. I’m not at the top of my game right now.”
“No worries, sir. Kauai’s coming alongside now. We’ll get you on board and have the doc look you over.”
“Don’t fuss over me, Boats. See to the rendezvous. Get a headcount and make sure everyone gets off OK.”
“Yes, sir. Dr. Simmons, could you look after him, please?”
“Yes, John, I’ve got him,” Simmons said, taking Bondurant’s place at Ben’s side. Whispering to Ben, he said, “You scared the shit out of me, friend! I thought I would have to make ‘that call’ to Victoria.”
“How the hell did a cartel guy get by the sweep?” Ben asked.
“It was one of their ‘Hitler Youth.’ He couldn’t have been over thirteen. He was probably hiding in a cabinet somewhere. Unbelievable.”
“I had time. I should have searched. Dominguez...” he shook his head.
“Don’t go there. This is not on you. It’s not on anybody. These things happen, particularly on wild-ass ops like this.” He looked over as Kauai snugged up against the side. “Let’s go, partner. We’ve got a fire going on the computers downstairs that will light up this barge in a minute.”
Ben nodded, started to bend over to pick up his helmet, then stopped and stood up as another wave of pain washed over him. “Ahhh,” he said, putting his hand to his head. “Can one of you guys bring that helmet, please? The NVGs alone are worth nine grand.”
“I’ve got it, Lieutenant,” Gerard said as he picked up the helmet.
Ben was still a little dizzy and had an intense headache, but with Simmons’s help, he made it to the side and over the rail onto Kauai’s afterdeck, with additional support from Bondurant and Lopez.
“Everyone accounted for, sir,” Bondurant reported.
“Thank you, Boats, carry on, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bondurant stepped aside as Lee trotted up. She took a deep breath as she looked into Ben’s eyes, then snapped a crisp salute. “Welcome home, sir.”
Ben returned it. “Glad to see you in one piece, Shelley.”
“Same here, sir. The bastards broke my boat, sir!” she blurted out.
Ben glanced up at the mess on the boat deck, smiled, and turned back to her. “Don’t worry. The taxpayers will buy you a new one.”
“I suppose. But I had this one all tuned up!” She grinned back.
Ben put his hand on her shoulder, gave it a soft squeeze, and watched as Kauai pulled away from the other vessel. D’Agostino walked up and got his attention.
“We’re ready to blow her, sir.”
“How is she rigged, Senior Chief?”
“I’ve got charges right above the bilges in each compartment. Give the word, and I’ll blow her bottom out.”
“Boats? Call the Bridge and tell them we are ready to scuttle on their order.”
“Yes, sir,” Bondurant said, then keyed his radio. “Conn, afterdeck, seized vessel ready to scuttle. Very good, sir.” He looked at Ben. “Let’r rip, sir.”
After getting a nod from Ben, D’Agostino announced, “Fire in the hole!” Then he pressed a button on a hand-held controller.
Seven quick thuds sounded from the Carlos Rojas, and the ship settled, slowly at first. As the bow sank level to the sea, the vessel rolled left and quickly plunged out of sight, leaving a spreading patch of white foam and debris.
“Now, I think you should head in to see the doc,” Simmons said.
“I’ll let him finish with men who are actually bleeding before I go to him for a headache,” Ben said. He turned back and looked at Carlos Rojas’s grave as his head started pounding again. “You should be elated. Another win for the good guys.”
Simmons shook his head. “They’ll just be another one when I get back. ‘Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day.’”
Ben closed his eyes to another wave of pain and struggled to think. “Man, you’re not pulling a Mac...Mac....” He tried to move to the rail but ended up falling to his knees and throwing up on the deck. The pain was blinding, all-consuming. He couldn’t see, just heard shouting.
“John! Help me get him inside!”
Strong arms lifted him off the deck and carried him like a baby. It had to be Bondurant, but he couldn’t see. He struggled to think. Pain! He felt himself being put down gently on the mess table.
“What were his symptoms?” A new voice. That army doctor. What is his name?
“He’s had a headache, and he collapsed and threw up.”
“Was he unconscious after the injury?”
“Yes, for a couple of minutes.”
“Shit! Where’s his helmet? Find it!”
“Why do you need that?”
“Don’t argue with me, goddammit! Get me his helmet! Rabin, I need an IV stat and pump in forty milligrams of propofol as soon as it’s running. Langley, get the craniotome bit into the autoclave and wipe down the ultrasound wand.”
Ben felt a hand on his face, then a blinding light and what felt like a knife in his eye. “AHHH!”
“I know it hurts. I’m sorry, Ben. Right pupil, normal and reactive, left, fixed and dilated.”
“Here it is, sir!” John’s voice again.
“Yes, yes. OK, there it is.”
“Propofol going in, Doctor.”
“Thank you.” The voice became louder. “Ben, you have a type of brain injury that is causing a bleed inside your skull, and I have to knock you out so I can treat it.” The voice became distant. “Is he married?”
“No, but his girl’s name is Victoria.” Pete’s voice.
Louder again. “Ben, you’ll be going to sleep now. I want you to think about Victoria. You’ll see her soon.”
The pain was subsiding, and he was back in Bethesda. The apartment door opened, and she was standing there looking so beautiful, more beautiful than he ever imagined—Victoria! Then the vision narrowed to blackness.
Sam had just finished watching Carlos Rojas’s last moments. He had expected to feel happy or at least satisfied, but he just felt drained. Is that all I have, the absence of despair? I guess it beats the alternative. He had been quite close to complete despair twice in the last few hours. First, when the towline parted, then when the report came that Ben had been gunned down. Each moment had been resolved with a seeming miracle, and Sam wondered how much longer his luck would hold. He shook himself. Take the win. Let’s go home. “Chief, Port Canaveral via Key West, twenty-four knots, if you please.”
“Very good, Captain,” Hopkins responded, advancing the thrust levers to the required power setting.
Sam lifted the microphone to contact the Coast Guard Cutter Thetis and tell her to stand down the helicopter on alert for MEDEVAC when the phone rang.
“Bridge, Bunting,” the young technician said. “Standby. Captain, it’s Doc, urgent.”
Sam took the phone. “Captain.”
“Captain, Bryant here. The XO has collapsed. It looks like some sort of TBI. We’ve just moved him onto the table. I recommend you get the MEDEVAC helo spun up, sir.”
“I’m coming down.” He hung up the phone without waiting for a response. “Bunting, contact Thetis and get that MEDEVAC bird in the air ASAP. Chief, the XO just went down with a head injury. I’m heading down, but I’ll be on the headset if you need me. Stay on your present course, but call flight quarters as soon as the helo calls airborne and get on a good course and speed for hoisting when they are inbound.”
“Yes, sir,” Hopkins said.
Sam ran to the rear of the Bridge and slid down the railing of the ladder without his feet touching a rung, the dad’s voice in the back of his mind hoping none of the junior enlisted members saw him. He pulled up to the messdeck door, crowded with crew members gazing in with worry. “Gangway,” he said, and they stepped aside.
Ben was stretched out on the mess table, unmoving, an IV in his arm and an oxygen mask over his face. The surgeon moved a small held-held device over Ben’s head, watching a monitor and making an occasional mark with a sharpie pen. Sam stood silently, watching as the surgeon finished his exploration with the device.
“Rabin, Betadine everything within two inches of the X.” He turned, saw Sam, and stepped over. “Captain, the lieutenant was shot in the head. His helmet kept the bullet out, but the impact was akin to a hammer blow to the side of his head. He has a severe bleed inside his skull. I’m going to do a stopgap procedure to keep him alive, but he needs to be medevac-ed to one of the Miami trauma centers as soon as possible.”
“I’ve got a helo spooling up on a cutter about twenty miles away.”
“Good. I’ll need about twenty minutes to get it done. Then it’s a race against time to get him to surgery.”
“What are you going to do?”
Roberts looked at him for a second, then pulled him away from the other crew. When they were out of earshot, he continued. “I’m going to drill a hole in his skull and drain out the excess blood, Captain,” he whispered.
Sam’s mouth hung open briefly. “My God!”
“I know how that sounds, but if I don’t do it, he’ll be dead before he gets halfway to Miami.”
“I understand. Is there anything I can do, anything you need?”
“Yes. As you can imagine, this is about as delicate a procedure as it gets. Anything you can do to dampen down the deck motion would help.”
“Of course,” Sam replied and keyed his microphone. “Conn, Captain.”
“Conn aye, sir,” Hopkins replied immediately.
“Chief, Major Roberts needs to perform...a surgical procedure on the XO. Get the speed down and maneuver as required to get the lowest pitch and roll possible. Do you copy?”
“Affirmative, sir. Throttling back now.”
The engine noise reduced, and Sam felt Kauai come down from the semi-planing mode as her speed slackened. “Good, keep her as steady as possible from now through the helo hoist. Maneuver at discretion.”
“Understood, Captain.”
Sam shut off his microphone. “Doctor, it will probably take Chief Hopkins a minute or two to find a sweet spot.”
“That’s fine, thank you, Captain.”
“Doctor, we’re ready,” Langley said.
“Right. Captain, I need you and everyone else out of here. I know he’s a buddy, but you can’t help and won’t be able to unsee this.”
“Yes, yes.” Sam turned and said, “Everyone out, now!” As he followed them out the door, he looked back and said, “Good luck, Doctor.”
