Black Wind - Cussler Clive - Страница 49
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The two rubberized cresting waves throttled back as they approached within a hundred meters of the NUMA ship, creeping the remaining distance at a slow crawl. Tongju brought his boat alongside the starboard flank of the Sea Rover and waited momentarily while Kim's craft skirted around the ship's stern and eased up on the port side. In unseen unison, a pair of rubber-coated grappling hooks sailed up from the sea on either side of the ship, catching secure grips around the Sea Rover's lower-deck railing. Narrow rope ladders trailing off the grappling hooks provided the means of entry. In orderly unison, the commandos quickly scrambled up the swaying lines.
On the port deck, a sleepless marine biologist was taking in the night sky when he heard something strike the ship. A pronged hook materialized around the railing just a few feet away. Curious, he bent over the side to look down the trailing rope just as a black-capped head emerged from the other side. In mutual surprise, the two men banged heads together with a crack. The startled scientist fell back, groping for words to cry out, but, in an instant, the commando was on deck, brandishing an assault rifle. The rifle stock caught the unfortunate biologist across the jawbone and the man crumpled in an unconscious heap.
The two commando teams assembled independently, then moved forward along the deck, intent on subduing the bridge and radio room first before any calls for help could be sent. Silently creeping through the sleeping ship, their 2 a.m. raid found the vessel ghostly quiet.
On the bridge, the Sea Rover's helmsman and second officer were sipping coffee while discussing college football. Without warning, Tongju and two of his men burst through the starboard wing door, aiming their weapons at the men's faces.
“Down on the deck!” Tongju yelled in clear English. The second officer quickly dropped to his knees, but the helmsman panicked. Dropping his coffee, he bolted for the port wing in a futile attempt at escape. Before Tongju or his men could cut the man down, one of Kim's commandos appeared in the doorway, striking the man in the chest with his assault rifle, then kicking him in the groin for good measure. The helmsman withered to the deck, groaning in agony.
Scanning the bridge, Tongju saw that the adjacent communications bay was empty and nodded at one of the commandos to stand guard over the equipment. He then walked toward the door to the captain's cabin situated off the back of the bridge. With a silent nod, he ordered one of his men to charge in.
Morgan was asleep in his bunk when the commando burst into his cabin, flicked on the light, and leveled his AK-74 assault rifle at the captain's head. The salty captain awoke immediately and sprang out of bed clad in T-shirt and boxers, bullying toward the man with the gun.
“What's this all about?” he barked, storming his way toward the bridge. The startled commando hesitated in the doorway as the burly captain bore toward him. With a nearly invisible flick of his arm, Morgan knocked the muzzle of the firearm away from his chest and toward the ceiling, then, with his free right hand, shoved the commando out the door with the strength of a barreling freight train. The shocked commando went sprawling across the bridge, falling on his backside and sliding with a thud into the forward bulkhead.
The commando was still sliding across the deck when Tongju leveled his Glock 22 semiautomatic pistol and fired a single shot at Morgan. The .40 caliber slug ripped into and through Morgan's left thigh, throwing a spray of blood onto the wall behind him. Morgan cursed as he grabbed his leg before crumpling to the deck.
“This is a United States government vessel,” he hissed defiantly.
It is my ship now,“ Tongju replied coolly, ”and any more insolence from you, Captain, and I shall place the next bullet into your skull." To emphasize his words, he stepped forward and flung his right leg toward the kneeling captain, the heel of his black boot striking Morgan high on the cheekbone and sending him sprawling flat to the deck. The proud captain slowly gathered himself back to his knees and stared quietly at his captor, eyes burning with hatred.
Unable to warn his fellow shipmates, Morgan could only watch helplessly as the small team of intruders took over his ship. Little resistance was met elsewhere on the vessel as the commandos rounded up the sleeping crew at gunpoint. Only in the engine room did a brawny machinist's mate surprise one of the commandos, crushing a pipe wrench through his skull. The machinist was quickly subdued by gunshots from another assailant, but the wounds would not prove lethal. Sporadic gunfire began to resonate throughout the ship as the commando teams worked through the Sea Rover. In less than twenty minutes, the assault team had achieved their objective and taken control of the 350-foot research vessel.
Tim Ryan and Mike Farley were in the undersea operations control room monitoring the current dive of the Starfish when a pair of commandos burst in on them. Ryan could only mutter a “What the hell?” over the underwater communications system before he was yanked away from the control station at gunpoint with Farley in tow.
Like sheep led to the slaughterhouse, the shipboard crew was herded in groups of three and four to the rear deck of the Sea Rover. Astern of the moon pool was a recessed cargo hold where the submersible and other equipment was stored when not in use. Under Kim's direction, the hold's heavy steel hatch cover was winched off with one of the Sea Rover's cranes. The frightened captives were then forced down a steel ladder into the dark, cavernous bay.
Tongju approached Kim on the rear deck with a bound and limping Morgan in tow, another commando prodding the captain forward with the barrel of his assault rifle.
“Report?” Tongju asked bluntly.
“All objectives achieved,” Kim reported proudly. “One casualty in the engine room, Ta-kong, but all ship's compartments are now secure. We've transferred all the captives to the stern hold. Jin-chul reports that eight units of ordnance have been located intact in the ship's auxiliary laboratory,” he added, nodding toward a wiry commando standing next to a prefabricated structure across the deck. “The submersible is currently deployed in recovery of additional ordnance.”
“Very well,” Tongju replied with a rare smile that revealed a set of heavily yellowed teeth. “Contact the Baekje. Tell her to tie up alongside and prepare for transfer of the ordnance.”
“You won't get far,” Morgan growled, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he spoke.
“But, Captain,” Tongju replied with an evil smirk, “we already have.”
A thousand feet beneath the Sea Rover, Summer was carefully placing the tenth aerial bomb into the makeshift holding tray alongside the ninth canister she had plucked from the bottom just moments before. She again secured both bombs with the mechanical arms, then turned to Dirk when she was finished.
“Ten down, two to go. You may take us home now, Jeeves.”
“Yes, m'lady,” he replied in a Cockney accent, then he actuated the submersible's thrusters and backed out of the tight confines of the hangar. As they cleared the deck of the I-411, Summer radioed up to the Sea Rover's control room.
“Sea Rover, this is Starfish. Have secured the next batch and are preparing to ascend with the goods, over.”
The call was returned with silence. She tried calling several more times as they started their ascent but again received no response from the surface.
“Ryan must be asleep at the wheel,” Dirk said.
“Can't blame him,” Summer replied while suppressing a yawn. “It is two-thirty in the morning.”
“I just hope the guy on the crane is awake,” he smirked.
As they neared the surface, they spotted the familiar glow of the moon pool lights and maneuvered the Starfish into the center of the ring, where they bobbed gently to the surface. Dirk and Summer paid scant attention to the shadowy figures on the deck as the clank of the main hoist was dropped and attached to the submersible and they began to power down its electronic equipment. It was only when they were jerked roughly out of the water and swung wildly to the stern deck, nearly colliding with the port bulkhead, that they realized something was amiss.
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