“Sounds like they’re welding the hatches shut,” he said. “Let’s find another way in.”
Resuming point, Chris returned to the same ladder they had just climbed and went back down to the deck below where he found a hatch and opened it. He leaned into the opening with his eyes and his weapon, leaving the rest of his body behind the cover of the metal bulkhead. Xander and Animus were in the passageway. Chris trained his red dot on Xander, but before Xander turned and noticed Chris’s presence, Animus stepped in front of the man, as if to shield him from Chris’s fire. Chris squeezed, and Animus returned fire. Chris’s shot struck Animus’s flesh, and Animus’s shot harmlessly hit the metal bulkhead.
Chris followed up decisively with another round, striking Animus between the shoulders. He fell with a gasp, but Xander had disappeared.
Ron Hickok’s voice sounded in Chris’s memory. Sometimes the enemy will play dead on you. Shoot him until he’s dead. Then you never have to worry about him surprising you — or worse — surprising your buddies.
Chris put a security round in Animus’s head, then stepped over his body to the spot where Xander had disappeared. The SEAL in Chris wanted to cheer, and the pastor in Chris wanted to say a prayer, but it was the SEAL who reasoned that he still had to get Xander. It looked like this passageway ran from starboard to port. Rather than present himself in the same upper location of the passageway, Chris dropped to a knee and leaned over. No one was there.
The sound of footsteps scampered away. Chris’s first impulse was to pursue, but maybe the footsteps were from one of Xander’s thugs and Xander was waiting around the corner to ambush Chris and his team.
Chris took a deep breath to calm himself, but it seemed to have little effect as he proceeded into the passageway. He didn’t hear Hannah and Sonny behind him, but somehow he sensed they were there.
The passageway provided little room to maneuver on either side, making Chris feel trapped. If a foe came at him, the only way to escape would be forward, through the foe. Adrenaline unloaded into his arteries and his vision became crisp as the red dot of his sight covered danger zones. He searched for trip wires in front or a pressure release mat on the deck that could trigger a booby trap, but there were none.
When he reached intersecting passageways at the centerline of the ship, he looked for Xander, but no luck. He looked through the passageway which led to a ladder that reached up to the rear hatch of the bridge. As much as he wanted to chase Xander, the ship had to be stopped. Chris swiftly closed the distance to the ladder and ascended.
On the bridge he discovered the bodies of men who appeared to be the captain and his crew. Nearby was Whiteface in a puddle of blood. If he was playing dead, he could surprise Chris, or worse, surprise Hannah and Sonny. Chris eliminated the possibility of surprises coming from Whiteface.
Then Chris peeled right, knowing Hannah would peel left and Sonny would take the center of the bridge. There was a bullet hole in the windshield where someone had fired at Chris minutes earlier. He searched for surviving enemies.
“Starboard hatch is welded shut.” Although Chris and his crew wouldn’t be able to exit through the starboard side, it also meant no one from the starboard side would be able to enter.
Hannah tried to open the port hatch. “This door is welded shut, too.”
Sonny jerked at the ship’s throttle, but it didn’t move. Then he attempted to turn the wheel, but it didn’t budge, either. “They welded the damn throttle and wheel, too. Now we can’t stop or steer the ship!”
Chris took a try at the throttle and wheel, just to make sure — not even a wiggle. The ship ran at a speed of ten knots, aimed at the Shah Deniz Alpha oil rig, one and a half klicks away. “Maybe we can’t stop the ship, but we can get Xander.”
“Do you have a death wish or something?” Hannah asked. “We need to get off now… before the ship crashes.”
“Can’t let him get away,” Chris said.
“Hannah is right,” Sonny said. “If Xander wants to go down with the ship, let him. If he surfaces, we’ll be waiting for him.”
Hannah’s chocolate-brown eyes had a soothing effect on him as she locked them on his. “What’s the best way to get off the ship?” she asked.
Chris could be reckless with his own life, but he couldn’t be reckless with theirs. Like Sonny had said, Xander would either go down with the ship, or they would catch him when he surfaced.
“We can jump off the fantail,” Chris said. He radioed Mikhail and told him they were coming and to contact the oil rig to inform them the ship was about to crash into them. “We only have about five minutes before the ship hits.”
Chris, Hannah, and Sonny moved tactically out of the bridge, down the ladder and then into the passageway they’d just come from. Chris was careful not to take Sonny and Hannah into an ambush, but he still had to hurry.
When they reached the fantail, Mikhail was still dutifully in the go-fast, following behind. Chris warned Mikhail they were about to jump before turning to Hannah. “Right before you leap, start inflating your vest so you don’t sink like a rock with all your gear when you hit the water.”
She nodded.
“Go,” he said.
She popped the CO2 cartridge in her vest and jumped, followed by Sonny.
As Chris turned and observed the deck, there was still no sign of Xander.
Where are you?
He ground his teeth and pulled his own cord, puncturing the CO2 cartridge to fill his vest with air, and he jumped. His mind cleared of everything except what he was doing, and he felt like a lead weight had been lifted. It was liberating.
Splash! He sank underwater, but his submersion was only temporary and he floated toward the surface. The first thing he checked was whether Hannah was okay. She was. Sonny was afloat, too.
Mikhail brought the boat up alongside them and helped Sonny out of the water and onboard first. Then Sonny and Mikhail helped Hannah and Chris aboard.
The ship was less than five minutes away from hitting the oil rig.
Before Chris could ask Mikhail if he was able to contact someone on the rig to warn them, he noticed Mikhail’s face was pale. “Are you okay?” Chris asked.
“While you had your shootout, I ran into a little shootout of my own,” Mikhail said.
“What happened?” Hannah asked.
“A yacht started following the ship,” Mikhail said. “Then it rammed me and tried to knock me off course. I figured they were working for Xander. When I didn’t change course, a gunman started shooting. So I shot back and took out the gunman and the pilot, and now they’re both dead in the water.” Mikhail chuckled. “Ow, that rattles my stones to laugh.”
He turned awkwardly, and Chris didn’t understand what was going on until Mikhail collapsed on the deck. Chris dropped to his knees beside him and opened his assault vest. Hannah took the wheel while Sonny trained his weapon on the ship.
Between Mikhail’s neck and shoulder was a bloody mess. The round must’ve entered between his neck and the opening of the collar on his inflatable bullet-resistant vest. The whole front of his shirt was soaked with blood.
Chris pulled out Mikhail’s blowout kit, removed a QuickClot Combat Gauze packet, and unbuttoned Mikhail’s shirt to see exactly where the bullet entry was. There was a dark hole covered with blood, and Chris pressed part of his hand against it to stop the bleeding while using his fingers to open the packet. Then he removed the gauze and used his finger to poke it into the wound, applying direct pressure with his hand between pokes. Chris had similarly patched up a fallen Teammate in Iraq, who’d howled out in pain, but Mikhail made no sound. His eyes were open, but he didn’t speak.