Seal Team Six Hunt the Wolf(85)
“Where?”
Mancini pointed toward the port bow, where the two Saudi patrol boats appeared as the ship swung right. They sounded their sirens and fired flares.
“Lot of good the flares will do.”
“Except possibly set this big sardine can on fire.”
Crocker started to cough. His head wobbled and his lungs hurt.
He felt Mancini lifting him up. “Boss. Lean on me, boss. Like the Bill Withers song.” Mancini started humming in his ear. Everything felt sticky and hot.
“Stop fucking around,” Crocker said with a groan. “Keep an eye out for terrorists. Abandon ship!”
He blacked out as Mancini started to explain how he’d aced a piloting course at the New York Maritime College the team had sent him to a few years back.
Next thing Crocker remembered was standing on the deck and seeing an endless expanse of water in front of the bow.
That means we’ve succeeded. Right?
He was leaning against Mancini’s shoulder. “What happened? Where are we?”
“Watch the cables.”
“Davis. Where’s Davis? I need to treat his wound.”
“Ritchie’s got him.”
Good…
He felt warm salt water all around him and opened his eyes. Mancini had an arm around his chest. He started kicking, trying to swim.
“Relax, boss. Stop struggling.”
“I’m good.” His shoulder and arm burned like hell from the salt.
“Boss, I got you.”
“Where’s the launch?” His vision started to blur.
“The launch sunk.”
“What?”
“There’s a Saudi boat here. We’re close…”
He remembered treading water, then blinked and saw a ship in the distance, steaming away. He blinked again and was seated on a deck. Saudi men in uniform scurried around him. One of them handed him a blanket.
“Is that the Syrena? ” he asked pointing at the distant ship with its stern toward them.
Ritchie: “Yes, boss. That’s it.”
He counted his men: Ritchie, Mancini, Davis.
Where was the fourth? Where was Akil?
The next time he opened his eyes, he was shaken by a huge explosion. The Syrena had been replaced by a tremendous ball of orange flames. The Saudi boat rocked; a heavy spray of water hit him in the face.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked, holding on to a metal flange.
“The tanker, boss. The tanker blew.”
“The Syrena? You sure?”
“Gone.”
“Really?”
“It’s all good, boss.”
“Where’s Akil?”
“We left him on the helicopter, remember?”
“That’s right.”
“Mission accomplished!”
It hurt to smile. “Mission accomplished…”
He sighed, and relaxed.
He looked up to see Jim Anders in his light blue suit grinning down at him, sunlight forming a halo around his head.
“Crocker,” he said. “Congratulations.”
Crocker squinted into the sunlight that streamed past the curtains, not sure whether what he was experiencing was a dream or reality.
Anders stepped closer. “You wanted Zaman and you got him. And in the process stopped a major terrorist attack.”
Crocker’s lungs hurt when he took a deep breath. “Where am I?”
“You’re back in Muscat.”
He pulled himself up carefully, pain and stiffness radiating from all areas of his body. “How’s Davis? Where are my men?”
“Davis is recuperating. The rest of your team is resting at a nearby hotel.”
“Is he okay?”
“Davis? Yeah, the doctors patched him up and say he’ll be out of here by the end of the week.”
“Good. And he’s spoken to his wife?”
“Yes. The baby arrived early. It’s a girl.”
Crocker grinned. “A girl. That’s funny.”
“Why?”
“It’s not important.”
Anders kept smiling as though he had more to say. “I’ve got to give you credit, Crocker. You were right all along.”
“About what?”
“The connection between Zaman and Cyrus.”
“Oh, that.” Crocker wanted to sleep.
“Zaman was using the kidnapping operation to fund his terrorist activities. Sheik Rastani was one of his clients. Our people in Marseille have uncovered more evidence linking Cyrus and Zaman. The FBI and Interpol are tracking down additional girls.”
“I’m glad.”
“You saw the connection clearly. We weren’t so sure.”
Crocker had to will his eyes to stay open. “When you’re on the ground, in the middle of the shit, you learn to trust your instincts. They’re always way ahead of your rational mind.”