SEAL Team Six Hunt the Scorpion(10)

The man behind them had fierce eyes, deep set like a falcon’s.

When the man to Crocker’s right reached for something in his belt, Crocker reared his right leg back and kicked him hard in the face. Then, brandishing his KA-BAR knife, he threw himself at the group. Teeth sank into his arm.

Fucking savage!

The pain didn’t stop him from grappling with arms and legs on the wet floor and slashing his knife blindly in the dark; it only added to his determination. Less than a minute later two men lay bleeding to death, grunting. Crocker couldn’t find the third one. Possibly he’d escaped up the stairs.

The cabin was a smoke-filled mess, disgusting-smelling. The fire from above had started to burn through the deck in the forecastle bunks. It was only a matter of minutes before the flames would reach the fuel tank and the whole damn boat would explode. He did the only thing he could think of, which was to reset the vessel’s engine and turn the wheel so it was headed away from the Contessa.

Then he ran to the bow and tried to push the orange barrels overboard. This required using his bloody knife to cut through the ropes that secured them, then angling one at a time against the low railing, pushing the top enough to wedge an empty ammo box he found on the deck under it, then lifting the barrel from the bottom until it flipped over the railing into the ocean.

It was hard work, but the hundreds of thousands of squats and dead lifts he’d done in the gym helped.

With the muscles in his arms and upper body burning, Crocker dove into the water and swam back to the Contessa. He was reminded of the summer nights he’d spent with his brother, sneaking into the neighborhood pool, fireflies creating magic around them. The sea was dark and turbulent, pulling him in one direction, then another. Instead of calling to Davis to throw him a line, he swam to the starboard side and came up the caving ladder, which was still in place.

Wiping ocean scum from his face, he noticed that a small fire was burning on the ship’s bridge, lending the radar mast and funnel an eerie red-orange glow.

Davis called from behind him, “Boss, you okay?”

“Good. And you?”

“Fine.”

“Where’s the rest of the team?”

“They’re all inside.”

“Where?” he asked, trying to catch his breath.

“Mancini’s trying to extinguish the fire and get the bridge in order.”

He recovered his MP5 and reloaded as they talked. “Has anyone seen the captain?”

“Don’t know. It’s real ugly in there.”

“How come?”

“The pirates hacked up some of the crew. At least one man is still alive but badly injured.”

“Get on the horn. Tell the folks on the Vinson to send a medical team and a helicopter to take us out of here. We’re also going to need a salvage team and some divers. There are six barrels of some kind of sensitive nuclear material sitting on the bottom of the ocean at eleven o’clock off the Contessa’s bow.”

“A medical team, a rescue helicopter, and a salvage crew. You got it.”

“Then meet me inside.”

He hurried to the superstructure and climbed the steps two at a time, his MP5 at his side. On the first deck he ran into Ritchie standing over three pirates bound with TUFF-TIES at their wrists and ankles.

“Where are the rest?” he asked.

“At least two of them are holding the captain and his wife hostage.”

“Where?”

“In the captain’s dayroom, two decks up.”

“Show me.”

Ritchie led the way up the narrow steps. On the next deck they ran into Mancini, whose face was black with soot.

Crocker asked, “What have we got?”

“Five crew dead, another two injured, two survivors.”

“How bad are the injured?”

“One’s barely alive; had his head bashed in. The other’s got a bullet wound. They’re both in the hallway one deck up.”

“Cal?”

“He’s with Akil.”

“Where?”

“Outside the captain’s quarters. That’s where some pirates are holding the captain and his wife.”

“Show me!”

One more flight up, Crocker stopped to examine one of the ship’s officers, who had been shot. A bullet had entered his lower back and appeared to have fractured the right side of his pelvis. His breathing was normal and his pulse steady, so Crocker smeared QuikClot around the entry and exit points, then wrapped them tightly with a bandage and gave the officer 800 milligrams of Extra Strength Tylenol.

“Swallow these. You’ll be fine. Medevac is on its way.”

On the next deck, Ritchie led him down a narrow hallway where they found Akil standing outside a door marked DANGEROUS SPACE, TEST AIR BEFORE ENTRY.