The Pilot Page 4

  Of course, it always led Seymour to question himself, which one am I? Here he was, a former SEAL, now a mercenary leader constantly picking and choosing his missions, not just trying to make a buck, but actually make a difference, trying to relive that glorified satisfaction he had when he was in the service. The reality was, during those times, he was fighting for freedom. Now, he was just fighting for money, no matter how he bent the truth in his mind. What was that, if not ego?

  “You sure this boat can handle this weather?” Hawk’s voice brought Seymour back into reality.

  “It’ll be bumpy, but it’ll do the job,” he said. “We need to move before the weather dies down, otherwise we’ll lose our cover.”

  “Hope you took your Dramamine, babe!” Ivan shouted back to her. Hawk simply answered with a thumbs up.

  She didn’t.

  Charlie hit a lever, and the cargo bay doors lowered into the sea. Ivan and Rex started cheering as the boat started moving down the ramp, as if they were on a roller coaster ride. Hawk swallowed hard, watching the swirling water grow larger and more intense as the hull touched down.

  “Good luck, guys,” Charlie said.

  “Don’t fall asleep,” Seymour replied.

  “Must be nice to get paid more and have the easy job,” Ivan shouted.

  “Perks of going to college!” Charlie said. Ivan held up a middle finger as the boat splashed down entirely. Immediately, the ocean began pounding the fifteen-foot vessel.

  Easley leaned on the throttle. Water sprayed behind the boat as the propellers pushed it forward. As the Zodiac accelerated, the rocking of the boat was reduced to more of a shake. Within seconds, her outfit was drenched. Salty mist permeated the air. Hawk relaxed herself with long, deep breaths, closing her eyes for several moments at a time.

  She opened them, just as a large wave approached the bow. She gulped.

  “Hang on, ladies and gents,” Easley said. The boat met the developing swell, and began its climb.

  “You know what happened when Clooney tried this?!” Rex shouted.

  “Shut up, Rex,” Terrie said, while holding back her own laughter. Every so often, the duo’s obnoxiousness was genuinely amusing. The boat rounded over the top, and started its way down. The hull hit the water, causing the Zodiac to bounce upward.

  “Whoa!” Easley cheered. The nerd was now on adrenaline junkie mode. Even Seymour allowed a small smile to expose itself. He glanced over at the C.I.A. liaison seated beside him. She was holding her breath, her skin pale white.

  “You gonna make it?” he said.

  “I’m fine,” she said. She crossed her arms, trying to create the illusion she was relaxed. In reality, she was hugging herself. Another swell approached.

  Fuck this.

  CHAPTER

  5

  “—my papa said ‘son, don’t let the man getcha, Do what he done to me!’” Singing along to Creedence, Charlie sat at his computer module. He pinched the joystick, tilting it to-and-fro to remotely control the drone. In low winds, he would set a course and allow it to fly on autopilot. However, the present conditions forced him to manually control it, otherwise the winds would force the drone into the Pacific. Losing a delicate piece of tech would greatly displease his boss.

  Charlie didn’t sweat it. An accomplished pilot and software engineer, he had previously handled worse conditions than this. He saw this job as a run-of-the-mill mission, only for a much more important client.

  Ding!

  He looked to his left. His portable pizza oven had timed out. He could smell the aroma of slightly burnt pepperoni, cheese, and pizza sauce.

  “Dinner time!” he said. “Or would this be breakfast…” He thought about the time change, then shrugged it off. Twisting the knob, he ascended the drone several feet, giving himself a few seconds before the autopilot would issue a turbulence alert. He hurried to the oven and removed the pizza. Putting it onto a plate, he hurried back to the controls.

  Eating food and working on a computer. Just like being at home. The shifting of the ShinMaywa didn’t bother him, except to keep his equipment from falling over.

  He lifted the pizza to take a bite. His eyes went toward the night vision camera. He paused, struggling to see what he was looking at. Placing his food back down, the mercenary adjusted the drone to circle back and descend. He stood up to look at the radar screen in the cockpit.

  “Well shit…” he said. He snatched up a radio. “Hatchling, this is Eagle Nest. Come in…”

  ********

  “We’ve only been out for thirty minutes, and already he’s lonely,” Rex joked after hearing Charlie’s transmission. Water sprayed the team as Seymour clutched his radio.

  He pressed the transmitter, “Go ahead.”

  “About half-a-click north of you is a vessel, moving away from your destination,” Charlie said.

  Each mercenary looked back at Seymour. They each felt the same immediate concern: Had they been detected?

  “Intercept course?” Seymour asked.

  “Uh…hang on.” A few moments’ silence filled the air. “Negative. It appears to be moving in a northeasterly direction. Going from its path, it came from that port on the southeast peninsula. I, uh…it almost looks like they’re working their way around the island, like they’re trying to turn around to go mainland.”

  “How big?”

  “One hundred eighty feet,” Charlie said. “Research vessel. It’s got some sort of Chinese lettering on the side.”

  Seymour opened the case, revealing a small monitor. “Charlie, link me the feed, and get a closer view on the ship. I want to see who’s on it.”

  “Roger.”

  “They might be using it as a patrol boat,” Terrie said, spitting out a mouthful of rainwater.

  “Not likely,” Hawk said. “If they’re trying to move around the island, it’s likely they’re moving material and personnel back to their country.”

  “You think Dr. Trevor might be on that boat?” Seymour asked.

  “It’s possible,” Hawk said. “It’s also possible they are transporting material off the island.”

  “What material?” Sutton said. Hawk looked at him and said nothing. He rolled his eyes. “Right…I forgot…Classified.”

  “You aren’t being paid to learn, you’re being paid to eliminate the threat, and recover Dr. Trevor, his staff, and any-and-all findings pertaining to his research.” Hawk turned to face Seymour. “I need you and your team to intercept and board that vessel.”

  “Uh, Boss?” Easley raised his hand to gain Seymour’s attention. “Uh, forgive me for asking, but how can we be sure these aren’t actually researchers aboard this boat?”

  “The Ilgob Daelyug are fronting as a research division,” Hawk said. “Didn’t you pay attention during your briefing?”

  “Oh, he did,” Sutton said. “Whether he believes it, is a different story. Same with me.”

  Hawk felt her blood pressure rising. “These individuals provide a threat to our national security and…”

  “Right....” Sutton said. “’Cause our government would never murder anyone and steal their stuff.”

  “Can it,” Seymour said. The green light from the monitor reflected off his face as he examined the camera feed. The drone passed over the vessel. He pressed his radio transmitter. “Charlie, get a closer view of the bow deck.” It took a moment for the drone to circle back. Once in place, it zoomed in, capturing images of two men hurrying across the deck. “Zoom in on the one on the right as best you can.” The camera zoomed in, and Seymour froze the image. He used the computer to get an even closer view.

  “Don’t worry,” he said to his team. “I don’t think Type 58 Assault Rifles are standard issue research equipment.” He zoomed in on the individual’s neck. “Also, see that?” He turned the monitor toward each member, pointing at a tattoo of what appeared to be a star on the man’s neck. Except, it wasn’t a star, but a symbol of an explosion. “This guy is a member of a death squad, by the good
ol’ North.” He switched off the monitor and closed the case.

  “Nice picture quality,” Rex joked. Seymour ignored him.

  “Easley, turn starboard. Everyone, fasten suppressors to your weapons. The more quietly we can take this thing, the better.”

  “Awe, man,” Ivan said, stroking the barrel of his M60E3 Machine Gun like a pet cat.

  “I said “quietly,”” Seymour said. Ivan sighed and placed his signature weapon down, settling for a much smaller HK416 Carbine. The team members attached suppressors to their weapons and applied night-vision goggles to their headsets.

  Hawk sat quietly, as she did not have a suppressor for her Beretta. Seymour tapped her on the shoulder, sensing her concern.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re not coming aboard until we’ve secured it.” She grimaced, but didn’t argue.

  CHAPTER

  6

  The team waited in darkness and silence as their Zodiac approached the ship. With their lights out, the small black boat was invisible in the thrashing sea. The team huddled down, carefully watching the 180-foot boat rocking in the waves. Golden streaks of light stretched from the decks, fading into the night air. The bow rocked up and down as swells of water bombarded it. Interior lights helped mark the pilothouse and lower decks, giving Seymour further knowledge to construct an assault plan. Where there were lights, there would certainly be personnel.

  “You got two guys on the trawl deck, and two on the forward deck,” Charlie’s voice came through the comm.

  “Terrie, you have a visual?” Seymour asked, waiting left of the helm, never taking his eyes off the boat. On the starboard side of the console, Terrie stood on one knee, resting her rifle on the edge of the boat. She pressed her eye into the night-vision scoop, confirming the two hostiles on the trawl deck. Each of them carried a rifle, as they moved to-and-fro across the deck. They stopped periodically, checking under tarps and opening unsecured crates, as if searching for stowaways.

  “Affirmative,” she said. “Not sure what it is they’re doing.”

  “Perhaps a hostage got away?” Easley said.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Seymour said. “Easley, take us around. We’ll board from the stern.” Easley rotated the helm and throttled the boat, the moan of the engine lost in the sound of screeching wind. In two minutes, Easley had the bow pointed at the stern.

  “Hold this distance,” Seymour said to Easley, then snapped his fingers at Terrie. “Take those two out…” he looked to the rest of the team, “…then we’ll make our approach. Nagamine...you and I will go first and secure the trawl deck. After that, the rest of you come in groups. Rex and Ivan, accompany us to the structure. Easley, Terrie…move around to the forward deck. Wait for Nagamine and me to secure the pilothouse…otherwise, those inside will see you and alert the remaining crew. When we give you the all clear, eliminate your targets and secure forward deck.

  “Once the topside is taken, we’ll proceed inside. The corridors should split into two main sections, one fore, the other aft. Nagamine and I will go aft, and secure the galley, mess area, and Captain’s quarters…assuming there is a Captain. Ivan, Rex, take the fore section. That should have the crew’s quarters and chart room. Check each target before disposal, we don’t want any dead friendlies. And no cowboy shit. Keep it quiet and smooth.”

  “Oh…alllllright,” Ivan said, making a pouty face.

  Sutton shook his head. Children! Seymour pointed a finger at him.

  “Doc…stay with the boat, and provide backup if needed. Terrie, Easley, keep the deck secured while we’re down there, should any of them get past us.” Seymour paused and gazed at the team, allowing for any questions. There were none. He looked to Terrie, who positioned her rifle.

  It took several seconds to focus the first of the two targets within the crosshairs of her scope. She measured the distance and windspeed, which blew constant at thirty-eight miles per hour. She adjusted the rifle position to accommodate the rocking of the Zodiac, as well as the motion of the research ship.

  She kept the target in her crosshairs, following him along as he moved toward the port side. He stopped. The bow of the ship bounced up, causing the stern to dip down nearly five feet. This gave her a clearer view.

  She aimed twenty-eight inches north of him, and five feet over his head. She squeezed the trigger. The suppressed weapon shuttered in recoil. The bullet zipped through the air, pushed south by the unrelenting wind. The ship rocked back upward, elevating the target to the bullet’s trajectory.

  Terrie watched through her scope, as a black misty cloud burst around the target’s center mass. The guard fell backward, sprawled out on the deck. She panned her rifle slightly, bringing the second target into sight. Hearing the sound of something hitting the deck, the guard had turned. He paused, seeing his comrade laying in a pool of his own blood. It was the last thing he would see.

  Terrie squeezed the trigger. The bullet pierced the guard above the left ribcage, exiting his right shoulder after displacing the heart. He fell forward, dead before his face slammed against the steel deck.

  Easley throttled the Zodiac. Waves pounded the hull as the small boat raced to catch up with the larger vessel. Nagamine stood, gripping the edge of the boat for balance. Seymour moved near him, watching the vessel grow seemingly larger as they neared it.

  The Zodiac climbed a wave, accelerating speed on the way down until it completely closed the distance. Easley throttled back and cut the wheel to port, barely keeping the boat from bumping into the transom. Nagamine reached out, grabbing a bar on the stern platform. He pulled himself up, then turned and reached out to Seymour. Taking his hand, he helped lift his commander onto the platform. They climbed a ladder, leading up to the trawl deck. Nagamine peeked over the side, confirming nobody other than the deceased guards were on the deck. He waved a hand to the team, signaling all clear, then pulled himself up. Seymour followed and took cover in shadows provided by the towering gantry. Terrie and Easley came up next. The sniper had switched to her suppressed H&K. She knelt in shadow, eyeballing the deck. It was covered with loose crates and other equipment left unsecured. Tools and weapons were scattered about, carelessly left unattended.

  Almost looks like they left in a hurry, she thought.

  Seymour noticed the oddities as well, but knew there was no time to waste analyzing. Staying close to the side, he and Nagamine moved fore, reaching the steps leading to the superstructure’s main entrance. With rifles in hand, he and Nagamine took position on opposite sides of the door. Terrie and Easley spread apart, moving onto opposite sides of the structure. Both of them kneeling down, they inched their way to the forward deck, where their oblivious targets waited.

  Ivan and Rex moved at a faster pace. Being the size of linebackers, they couldn’t conceal quite as easily as the others. In addition, they were eager to get to action. They made their way to the entrance.

  Seymour held up an open hand, signaling for them to hold position. He then grabbed the handle, and opened the door in a swift and silent motion. Nagamine immediately entered, the sights of his submachine gun raised at eye level. Scanning the stairs, he confirmed nobody was in sight. He moved upward, followed by Seymour.

  They could see a door at the top of the small row of stairs. There was no window, but through the tiny gaps around the edges, they saw that the lights were on. Carefully, they walked up the stairs, keeping their weapons pointed at the door. There, they listened intently. A voice sounded inside, speaking in Korean. Another voice overlapped, confirming the existence of a second pilot.

  Nagamine looked to Seymour, who gave him a nod. Understanding the instruction, Fujiwara Clan’s descendant strapped his firearm. He drew his Ninjato, holding it at waist level, pointing the blade down. Seymour reached for his vest, drawing a three-inch throwing knife. Holding it by the blade, he tapped his hand on the door.

  One of the voices shouted, “Geugeos-eun mueos-inga?”

  “Mun-I maghyeossda!” Seymour mimicke
d, shaking the handle to imply the door was stuck. They listened to the footsteps. Seymour backed down a step. The door swung open, revealing the pilot. His initial expression was irritation to the incompetence of what he thought was a crew member. A breath later, he was alarmed. Before his hand could reach for his sidearm placed at his belt, Nagamine slashed the blade of his sword across his throat. The pilot fell backward, bleeding onto the floor. The other pilot stood from his seat, caught completely off guard by the invasion. A rifle leaned against the dashboard. His hand was halfway to the barrel when Seymour launched his knife. The knife and handle completed a single rotation before the blade plunged three inches into the pilot’s neck. Blood seeped through the wound, and the hand pressed against it. The pilot fell to his knees, still attempting to grab his weapon. His fingers just barely managed to touch the barrel grip when the life drained from his body. His arm dropped away from the weapon, and his body hit the floor.

  ********

  Waiting along the narrow pathways along the structure, Terrie and Easley watched their targets from their separate position.

  “Pilothouse clear. Proceed to forward deck,” Seymour’s voice whispered through the comms. Terrie moved first, shouldering her firearm. She moved seven paces ahead, stopping just short of light cast by a spotlight on the structure deck. The guard turned, momentarily seeing her silhouette moving again in the darkness. He paused, initially believing his visitor to be one of his comrades. Terrie positioned her sights on his center mass. With her weapon set on semi-auto, she double tapped, placing two 5.56x45mm NATO rounds into his sternum.

  As the Korean fell backward, Easley fired two rounds into the other one, silently ending his life. Both mercenaries quietly moved out onto the deck, briefly checking their targets’ vitals. Terrie clicked her transmitter.

  “Clear,” she whispered.

  ********