The craft had been used to haul freight down the river, but now was empty. It was just large enough so all of the SEALs could sit or lie out of sight.
“We’re making ten knots,” Lam said. Murdock nodded.
“That means it will take us twelve hours to get into the bay.”
“From the wear on the throttle lever, looks like five to maybe seven knots is the normal cruising speed,” Lam said. “That five knots with the current of five should keep us at ten knots. I could goose it up a notch, but we might burn up the engine.”
“Keep it at the ten knots,” Murdock said. “Then we might have some reserve if we need it.”
Nobody had mentioned it, but they all knew that China had a Navy. Had they brought over any boats to this area? It was a long way from China. They may have taken over some Bangladesh river patrol boats. Either way they would be just as deadly. Murdock hoped that they didn’t see any.
He kept trying to watch the shores. Usually they faded into distance and the haze. For a small country with such a large population, the place seemed relatively uncrowded here in the country. He saw only an occasional light, and no real town along the banks. But it was a long river.
In the bright moonlight he could see where massive flooding had taken place recently. The country was mostly a flat plain and made up of the silt of millions of years from the Ganges. That made it almost at sea level and tremendously at risk for flooding. Every few years devastating floods hit the country. Murdock remembered that ten years ago when the floods hit, there were thousands dead and over twenty-five million homeless.
They plowed down the river. They had been on the river since 0030. That meant they had another five, maybe six hours before daylight. That was when Murdock expected trouble. There would be no way the Chinese would know where to look for them. The trouble might come if a Chinese patrol boat came alongside to inspect the boat or just to harass the crew.
Lam had the con. Vinnie Van Dyke was their best small boat sailor, but he was still in the hospital on the carrier. Most of the SEALs had sacked out on and below the deck. Murdock hadn’t named any lookout. He did the job himself. Lam would need some relief at the helm. Bradford would be the next man up.
Murdock went into the little wheelhouse and waved at Lam. There was a small light over the control panel.
“So far, we’re winning,” Lam said.
“Lots of miles to go yet, sailor. In another hour I’ll get you a relief pilot. What’s the routine, stay in the middle of the channel and hope we don’t hit a sandbar?”
“About the size of it. Saw some small arms fire back there a ways. None of it came our way.”
“If the Chicoms are all over the place, I can’t see them,” Murdock said. He paused staring into the moonscape. “Maybe they’re just in the population centers.”
Two hours later somebody nudged Murdock awake where he had been sleeping in the hold.
“Trouble, sir. Looks like a patrol boat.”
Murdock came awake in an instant, recognized Mahanani’s voice and jumped to the deck.
“Twin lights and a searchlight coming at us. Range maybe two thousand yards and closing.”
“Wake up the troops and have them lock and load. We could be in for some action.” Murdock wished he’s brought a pair of binoculars. This wasn’t supposed to be long-range work. He stared into the moonlit darkness ahead of them. Yes, running lights and a searchlight swinging back and forth over the water. The boat was on the far side of the river working the far bank. Already Lam had angled the craft toward the right-hand bank.
Murdock moved up beside him. “Want me to shut down the power and let the current run us downstream?” Lam asked.
“Take longer to get by him that way. No sense in giving him more chances to see us. With his motors running he won’t be able to hear us in this little tub. Wonder what kind of armament he has?”
Murdock had checked the book on Bangladesh before they left the carrier. She had three frigates in the 340-foot class. With any warning at all, those craft should have put to sea until the problem on land was resolved. He couldn’t remember the type of patrol craft they had but they would probably have some in the 195-foot class and more of the 120-foot size.
Murdock guessed that the larger ones had taken off for sea, as well, which would leave the smaller ones to be captured and used until the Chinese Navy arrived. That type patrol craft would probably have radar, missiles, and some 25mm twin guns. Way too much firepower for them.
“Let’s find some overhanging trees or vines and try to hide behind them against the shore,” Murdock said.
Lam eased the craft closer to shore, scraped over a sand bar and moved out again. “That won’t work,” Lam said. Ahead they could see a small river entering the main flow.
“Give it a try?” Lam asked.
Murdock checked the patrol boat. Still twelve hundred yards off.
“Yeah, nose in easy against the flow and see if it has a bottom.”
The small ship angled more sharply to shore, had to turn back against the current to get into the downstream slant of the river entry. Then Lam edged forward a few feet at a time. A small curve in the tributary showed just ahead. Lam checked the riverbank. They were nearly screened from the patrol boat.
“Another twenty yards, Skipper,” Lam said.
“Go.”
The little boat edged farther up stream until Lam decided it was far enough in, then he used just enough throttle to keep the boat in the same spot against the two-knot current of the small stream.
Murdock saw his men moving into firing positions around the craft. He hoped they didn’t have to work against the missiles and the 25mm twin guns, which could chew this little wooden boat into shreds in minutes.
“All quiet on the boat,” Murdock whispered into the mike. The SEALs knew the drill. They didn’t talk, move or lift weapons. It was as quiet as a tomb, which is where they could be if somebody made too much noise.
Now they could hear the growl of the larger boat’s diesels as it strained upstream against the five-knot current.
“Almost opposite us,” Lam said. “Can’t see them, just a feeling.”
They waited.
Fingers were outside trigger guards to prevent any accidental firing.
They waited again.
They all heard it then, the high-pitched whine of the diesel at full throttle as the larger boat on the Ganges revved up its motor and charged more quickly up the muddy flow toward the capital. The men listened to it for sixty seconds.
“Getting fainter,” Lam said. “The bastard is heading upstream to see the king.”
They waited five minutes until they could barely hear the ship’s diesels, then Lam eased the boat backward out of the small stream into the Ganges and they powered downstream at their usual ten knots.
Twenty minutes later Murdock saw lights of what had to be a fair-size city on the far shore. The sound of small arms and machine-gun fire erupted along the shoreline, then all went quiet.
“Wasn’t aimed at us,” Murdock said into his mike. He could sense the men relax. Bill Bradford took over the ship’s controls and steered the craft toward the opposite shore as they passed the lights of the city. When they faded, Bradford took the boat back to the middle of the wide river.
“Has to be a half mile across along here,” Bradford said.
“From the maps I saw the river is sometimes two miles wide and at times ten to twelve miles across with hundreds of small islands.”
“How do I know where the channel is?” Bradford asked.
“This is the Hindu’s holy river,” Murdock said. “Maybe a little prayer at this time would help.”
“Think I’ll pass on that one, skipper. I don’t even speak Hindi.”