As Banyon approached, he aimed his weapon and light down the alley, noticing the break between buildings on the left. He held the light steady only briefly. Shutting it off, he continued to the corner. Leaning his head slightly, he finally spotted the barge and chopper. Sonofabitch! Seeing a light coming from the wheelhouse door led him to believe men were below deck. He was about to report back to Holcomb when he saw someone carrying a rifle, walking from behind the chopper. That's one, he confirmed silently.
He kept his eyes searching along the port side of the barge, then toward the wheelhouse. No one else in sight. But he continued looking along the dock, beyond the partially submerged barges. Still nothing. He stepped back, then turned and started walking. He stopped briefly, taking a quick look down the alley. Something at the far end caught his attention and he switched on his flashlight. He strained his eyes. A bumper?! A vehicle had to mean other men were still on the barge. He hesitated, deciding whether he should check it out, then he thought otherwise. The objective was the barge. A vehicle was secondary.
He shut off the light then started hurrying to report his findings to Holcomb. He stopped short, not seeing the two men. Where the hell were they?
Thinking the two were hiding in the alley, Banyon started to turn, when he heard a gruff whisper behind him. "Drop your weapon, or I'll blow your fuckin' head off."
Banyon froze. He knew what Flores felt like back at the factory. He dropped his gun.
"Now the flashlight, then lock your fingers behind your head and start walkin'." Slade gave Banyon a quick, sharp jab with the MP5.
Once they were at the back of the building, and even though in the shadows, Banyon recognized Holcomb and Flores, on their knees, hands behind their backs, duct tape over their mouths. Two men were standing guard. All Banyon could think was: SEALs!
"On your knees!" Slade ordered in a gruff whisper. Once Banyon was secured, Slade contacted Grant. "Zero-Niner. Three secured."
"Roger. Four-One, report here."
On the barge, below deck, Mendoza sat near the table, with headphones on, holding the microphone for the short wave radio. The call from Artadi in Olongapo came in five minutes earlier.
Salazar had been preparing to relieve Reyes topside, but instead he sat on the bottom steps, with his M16 across his lap. He listened to Mendoza answering questions, trying to explain his rationale for killing Quibin. Just hearing one side of the conversation was all Salazar needed to determine that Artadi was pissed.
Mendoza slapped at the radio switch, disconnecting the call. He pulled off the headphones and tossed them on the table.
"What happened?" Salazar managed to ask.
Mendoza remained quiet a moment before responding. "Artadi said newspapers and TV broadcasts reported the U.S. President's press release. Our plan to inflict casualties aboard the carrier had succeeded."
"But that's excellent news, Rodel!" Salazar waited for a more positive reaction, but none came. He finally realized the reason. "So, Nimuel wasn't lying. He did change those ingredients. We … "
Mendoza glared at Salazar through narrowed eyes. "Don't even go there, Bayani! He may have followed my instructions, but Nimuel still went against everything we're about! If I suspected another man was attempting to deceive us, or cheat us, I'd give the same orders!" His tone of voice dropped lower. "Even you, Bayani."
Salazar knew this to be true. He'd inflicted harsh punishment on two other men because of Mendoza's suspicions. "I carried out your orders, didn't I?! I always have!"
Mendoza ignored him. "Artadi found someone to replace Nimuel. He's to arrive tomorrow afternoon. I'll leave you in charge to pick him up at the airport, then take him to the factory. It shouldn't take long to train him on the operation."
"There's more to this, isn't there?"
"We have orders to sail from here within two days. Artadi wants the equipment and weapons in Olongapo without further delay."
"Does he have plans to use them soon?"
Mendoza shoved his chair back and stood. "I wasn't informed." He started walking toward the forward section, with its rows of boxes, when he said over his shoulder, "Go relieve Carlo."
There's more to this, Salazar thought, as he started up the stairs.
Slade hustled down the alley, then took his position as pointman. They edged closer to the front of the building, sliding their backs along the wooden structure. Grant hesitated in making his next decision, but then gave the order. "Seven-Three. Take out UF."
"Roger." Novak centered the crosshairs, adjusted for wind and humidity, took a breath, and slowly squeezed the trigger. A muffled crack. The skull shattered. Fragments of bone became small missiles, inside and outside the skull. Reyes' body tumbled over the edge of the helipad, hitting the main deck with a thud.
Novak gave the order, "Go!"
As the three dashed across the road, the wheelhouse door flew open. Salazar came rushing out, immediately spotting the men. He fired off a burst. The men hit the dirt. Novak's bullet struck Salazar low in the chest. As he fell backwards against the wheelhouse, Novak fired again. This time a head shot.
The three men got up into a kneeling position, aiming their weapons toward the wheelhouse. No one else emerged. They scrambled to their feet and ran up the gangplank. Taking long hurried strides across the deck, they rushed to the wheelhouse. The open doorway was blocked by Salazar's lifeless body. Slade grabbed an arm and dragged him out of the way, trailing blood along the deck.
It was then Grant noticed blood running out from under Slade's sleeve. He tapped his shoulder and pointed at it. Slade gave him a thumb's up.
Holding his MP5 stock against his shoulder, and looking down the barrel, Grant stepped into the wheelhouse, aiming his weapon down the stairs. A light still glowed below deck. He spotted a light switch on the bulkhead at the top of the stairs, but decided to hold off before he sent the lower deck into complete darkness.
They waited and listened. A scuffing noise emanated from the forward section. Nothing specific — but someone was definitely down there. Then, silence. A weapon could be fired blindly. Or, if he and Adler were right in their assumptions, a grenade would require no aim whatsoever.
Grant called out, "Your two men are dead! Another is our prisoner! No one's gonna help you! If you've got a weapon, I'd advise you to toss it! Now!"
Rodel Mendoza tried moving farther back, but heavy boxes blocked his path. His brain attempted to sort through the past few moments. His men were dead?! Who was captured?! Flores! The factory! It'd been discovered! With his .45 in his hand, he aimed at the stairs, toward the voice, while he tried to remember where the grenades were boxed. It'd be impossible to find them. And if he fired, it'd give away his position. Whoever was out there, wouldn't hesitate in returning fire, and he was surrounded by explosives. Was he willing to become a martyr and die for the cause?
Grant's voice boomed in the silence. "Last chance!" Again, nothing. Grant signaled Adler and Slade before he flipped the light switch, sending the lower deck into darkness. The circumstances were still way too dangerous to head down. Would a bluff work? Grant took a frag grenade from his chest vest. Without pulling the pin, he knelt down, and gave it a shove. The thumping and bouncing sound was enough to get what Grant planned on.
Mendoza fired blindly, shooting continuously toward each sound. Then, click, click, click. Empty.
Slade stepped around Grant, ready to take the lead. Looking through an eerie greenish glow of his NVGs, he cautiously and silently went down the steps, staying close to the bulkhead. Easing himself down another step, he slowly turned his head until he was able to see the forward area. Aiming his weapon, his eyes searched along rows of stacked boxes. He spotted someone close to the starboard side dropping down, before disappearing behind a large box. He motioned to Grant, indicating the direction. He quietly went to the next step, finally able to see the forward area. "Eyes on," he whispered to Grant.