They were fine as long as they were attacking unsuspecting vessels which couldn’t defend themselves, but when it came time to face real professionals, they folded instantly.
Navarone and his men had inserted into the boat via the anchor’s hawse hole, and a concealed rear access point which had been identified from plans sent to them by the Tsing Tao Shipping Line. They had subsequently gained access to the ship completely undetected, and — once they were all in position — the assault had commenced.
Their suppressed weapons had taken the pirates out in the blink of eye, and the ship and the hostages were completely secured in under a minute from the first shot being fired. With control of the ship secured, Navarone made the call to the other assault elements to proceed, and the noise of gunfire and explosions rang out only seconds later.
In less than four minutes, Navarone heard the words of Alpha Troop commander Bill Hoggs come through over his earpiece. ‘Sector One secure,’ the experienced SEAL announced to Navarone’s relief, followed soon after by Charlie Troop commander Nelson Iboria’s affirmation that Sector Two was also secure.
‘Affirmative,’ Treyborne confirmed over the radio. ‘Location is secure, and we are ready for phase two.’
Navarone smiled, glad that they had been able to take over the hideout so quickly, but knowing that it was down to hard work, training, and professionalism. The pirates had never even had a chance to use their radar or defensive weaponry, and Navarone was glad that they had not waited for support; sometimes missions were better off with as few elements involved as possible, as it minimized the amount of things that could go wrong.
But now, as Commander Treyborne had announced, it was time for Phase Two; checking that the base was entirely secure, and then inviting everyone else to join the party.
7
Suprapto was disheartened, but pleased with himself nevertheless. The ripples through the water could only be from explosions, which meant that his base was under attack, just as his gut had told him.
How he had known, he had no idea; but he was inordinately glad he had taken Captain Yang into the submersible when he did. With the most important hostage still safe, there was still a chance for negotiation. And if Reza managed to get the Fu Yu Shan moving, all was not lost; not yet.
He smiled as his powerful lights showed the mouth of the river opening up ahead. He would soon reach open water, and be safe.
But then he felt the mini-sub lose speed, as if it had caught on something. Was it dragging something?
He tried to look around out of the clear Plexiglas cockpit, and then his heart stopped dead as he saw the masked face peering in at him from the dark waters.
Cole had reached the submersible just a few hundred yards from open water and now gripped hold of the bright yellow sides and pulled himself up to the cockpit bubble, his masked face appearing from the gloom.
He saw a man dressed in a ship captain’s uniform in one of the seats, gagged and restrained; presumably Captain Yang Yaobang of the Fu Yu Shan. In the other, his mouth wide in shock, was the pirate king himself, Arief Suprapto. The man’s hair was Samson-like in its extraordinary length, his ears and eyebrows adorned with golden rings, and Cole could see tattoos covering the muscular body which lay underneath his camouflage combat vest.
And then the look of shock was replaced by one of indignant rage, and Cole watched as Suprapto pulled a Colt .45 from his thigh holster and placed the barrel against Yang’s head, shouting at Cole through the bubble.
Cole couldn’t hear him, but the meaning was clear enough; get off the submersible, or Yang would be killed.
But rather than heed the warning, Cole shrugged his shoulders and held something up to the Plexiglas bubble, close enough so that Suprapto would make no mistake about what it was.
A thermal grenade.
Cole then made a big show of magnetically attaching it to the hull of the Triton submersible, showing Suprapto his empty hands.
To the pirate king’s fury, Cole then held up three fingers and swam away into the murky depths.
Three minutes until the thermal grenade exploded, and the mini-sub was blown out of the water.
There was only one choice that Suprapto could possibly make.
Arief Suprapto was enraged. What had that lunatic done? Did he want to kill the captain? Did he not care if the hostage lived or died? What sort of man was this?
And now he was swimming away, brooking no further negotiation, so confident was he that Suprapto would have to land the mini-sub, pop the hatch and escape before the grenade blew.
And the kicker was that this man was right; that is exactly what he would have to do. His pride was great, but his desire to survive to fight another day was greater yet.
As the counter timed down, Suprapto turned the mini-sub and piloted it straight for the south bank.
Cole watched and waited as the Triton two-man submersible rose to the surface, racing south until it collided with the muddy riverbank, beaching itself.
The huge Plexiglas dome popped open moments later, just as Cole made it to shore himself.
Cole raced towards the beached submarine, kicking off his flippers, stripping away his SCUBA gear, and pulling a stainless steel SIG Sauer 10mm from a shoulder holster as he ran.
He had the handgun up and aimed as he neared the sub, its yellow paint — now covered in mud — reflected eerily in the moonlight. He looked around, trying to trace the pirate and his hostage.
In the light from the moon and stars, Cole saw the tracks leading through the thick mud. Suprapto was already well away from the vessel, dragging Captain Yang by his hair into the jungle.
Cole fired a shot into the air, and Suprapto stopped in his tracks. He could have shot the man, but it was important that he be kept alive — if possible — for questioning.
An explosion rocked the shore, the thermal grenade exploding and blasting the Triton submersible into a million pieces.
Flames licked at the edge of Cole’s vision, illuminating the scene in front of him as Suprapto pulled Yang towards him, arm around his neck as his Colt .45 was once again aimed at the captain’s head.
The fire played over Suprapto’s savage face, flickering in his reptilian eyes. The pirate king’s tongue flicked out, licking his lips.
‘Let me go,’ he said in broken English. ‘Let me go, or else you have to explain why captain has no head, eh?’
Cole kept his aim steady. ‘I don’t really have to explain myself to anybody,’ Cole said, his voice as steady as his gun.
A shot rang out and Suprapto’s body was wrenched violently backwards, the Colt flying from his hand. He dropped to his knees, blood spurting from the gunshot wounds in his arm, Cole’s single shot penetrating both the forearm and the bicep.
Captain Yang staggered back, eyes wide with shock at how close he had come to death.
Cole moved toward the injured pirate, who held his arm in agony as he stared at Cole with burning hatred, flames still flickering across his blood-spattered face.
Cole kicked the man onto his back, stepping down with his boot onto Suprapto’s bicep, the damaged bone fracturing under the pressure, and placed the barrel of his gun between the pirate’s eyes.
‘Now let’s talk,’ he said with a smile.
‘We’re just missing the captain, sir,’ Navarone explained to Commander Treyborne as they stood on the cargo ship’s main deck. ‘Yang Yaobang.’
The hostages were walking freely around the dockside now, trying to get some life back into their unbound limbs and some sense back into their terror-riddled minds.