Hot Zone (6 page)

For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence between the two as they thought of something to say. Finally Jordan plucked up the courage. "Are you telling me everything you know Lieutenant Riley?" Jordan asked.

"Ice, call me Ice. The other one’s too much of a mouthful. May I call you Jordan?"

"Only if you're telling me everything, including why I wasn't told Art was killed before you flew my ass out here."

"That I don't know Jordan. Quite often we aren't told the whole story either. We're given a target to go and hit or someone to go in and save and we do it. We don't ask why or how, really, the less I know the better. I might just decide the guy we're going in to save isn't worth
my
life.

What I told the guys is what I know, so now it's what you know. I meant what I said about you staying on top of me out there. If something happens I need to get you out of harms way immediately. Those are the orders I have."

"And I thought you just wanted to look after me?"

"Have you ever dived before?"

"I grew up in the desert, Ice."

"Okay, I want to take you down to the equipment room, run you through what you will be using, how to use it and what to do if something fails, like your re-breather."

"Like the re-breather?" Jordan asked.

"It has never happened to me but you still need to know."

"And a re-breather is what?"

"We use these special tanks that don't emit any air bubbles, it recycles continuously so we never run out of oxygen, and because no air bubbles release into the water it also keeps us out of sight from above the surface.

Jordan stood up, nervously, she didn't like the idea of diving with killer sharks and recycled carbon dioxide.

"Come on then." She sighed

6

Pinholes in the curtain of night.
Jordan had once read them described as, and that author, whoever it was, was dead on. As she stood on the large elevator platform on the deck of the Kitty Hawk, Jordan could not believe the amount of stars that shone in the sky above.

What was even more incredible was the stillness of the ocean. So still and dark were her surroundings, it was hard to tell where the horizon was. The stars were reflecting perfectly off the water like of large mirror. If it weren't for the ripples cast off by the ship itself, disrupting the pure serenity she could have easily imagined that she was in outer space.

But she wasn't.

Jordan was on deck with three US Navy SEALS and three Special Air Service Soldiers from Australia, two black rubber zodiacs with outboard engines and what she felt was a shit load of weapons to be taking on a diving trip in the middle of nowhere.

Everyone was fitted in black wet suits, large square air tanks, know as rebreathers and complete facemask-regulator system that allowed the men to communicate to each other via radio headsets that were built into the masks. They also had large underwater flashlights to illuminate the dark world below.

Jordan had the equipment she felt she would need if they discovered what Montoya had claimed to have found. Underwater camera, plastic bags for artifacts, various small tools for handling small delicate fragments worn down by thousands of years in the ocean and one other thing:

Her sharp mind.

On her trip across the pacific Jordan had read up on the lost City of Atlantis, it physical description and where it was believed to be. There were conflicting reports about its location. One writer had it placed in the South China Sea, another in a similar location to that of the Titanic. However, not one person had said the South Pacific was a possible location and the likelihood that she was going to stumble on Atlantis was remote.

For the six opposing figures that surrounded her on deck, the trip had a different purpose. Yes, they wanted to see what was on the ocean floor, but they were more interested in trying to make sure the French didn't discover it first.

There was also the issue of the missing Greenies and what had killed them. With the possibility that they may find themselves in a conflict with the Foreign Legion the SEALS were taking no chances.

Each man was armed with a Sig Sauer 9226 handgun that held a fifteen round magazine. Skip, Storm and Ice were also armed with a Heckler and Koch Mp5 compact submachine gun.

Containing 9mm rounds that fired upwards of eight hundred rounds a minute, it was the choice weapon on all Special Forces around the world. What made the Mp5 so popular was the unique roller-delayed blow back system. The system allowed the weapon to operate in a fully locked breach position giving accuracy on the first shot that could mean the difference between life and death. Another feature was its ability for single shot fire, three round bursts or fully automatic mode. It is commonly known around the world as the perfect weapon for Close Quarters Combat.

Roo and Shooter preferred the M4 Light Machine gun, a lightweight version of M-16 with the ability to fire one thousand rounds a minute it was a new weapon that was beginning to make a name for itself. Roo loved the weapon for its capability to mount the M203 grenade launcher onto its short barrel, which he ensured was in position. Shooter liked the fact it held a removable carry handle, which allowed him to change his scopes and sights with quickness and ease. Tonight he had a laser sight mounted. All of their weapons encased in airtight, waterproof bags so there was no chance of the saltwater spray damaging them and potentially causing them to jam or accidentally discharge.

Ghost cradled his beloved Remington 700 sniper rifle like it was his Child. He planned on staying on the surface and watching over the zodiacs and acting as lookout. He had his diving equipment in case an emergency called for it, but for the most part he planned on just talking to the guys on their radios to keep them informed of surface activity.

As the seven figures stood on the aircraft elevator platform looking out to the dark abyss the platform began moving slowly down. Moments later they found themselves at water level. A large opening in the rear of the ship was fitted with a retractable ramp that allowed easy access to the water.

Ice got onto his radio: "SEAL team in position, cut engines."

The humming of the ships engines cut instantly as it began to slow, the wake that was being thrown out subsided enough that they could launch the zodiacs without fear of broaching.

"Let's go folks, it's time." Ice, Skip, Storm and Jordan grabbed one zodiac, placed it onto the ramp and sat in place, Shooter gave the zodiac one push and it slid straight into the sea. Shooter, Roo and Ghost pushed their zodiac onto the ramp, all three pushed and jumped simultaneously.

In the water now, both engines kicked into gear and pulled them away from the ship. "SEAL team clear." Ice said into his radio. Over the buzzing of the outboard engines they could just hear the ship engage its engines in gear.

Jordan was in awe of the enormity of the Kitty Hawk as it moved away from them. In contrast she was now on a boat that barely fit the four of them as they began the thirty-eight mile trip southwest to the exclusion zone, or what Roo had aptly named it:

The Dead Zone.

For the first twenty minutes or so the only noise from the zodiacs came from the engines themselves. Everyone held deep concentration, focusing on the mission, a mission with many question marks. In Jordan's boat, Skip and Storm started checking their weapons, ammunition supplies and dive equipment. The smooth seas made this easier than what it would normally be. Ice was steering the boat with a glazed look, he was off in his own world.

Ice Riley's most dangerous mission had been a rescue mission off the coast of Turkey. Two American soldiers had been taken hostage on board a small tanker and Riley's mission, along with his team had been to take over the boat, which was anchored off the coast and rescue the hostages. He had strange feelings of deja vu heading into the black horizon and he hoped this mission wouldn't end as the other one had.

* * *

Cruising off the Turkish coast a SEAL team pulled their zodiacs to within a mile of the tanker, this was as close as they would be able to get without certain detection and they would have to swim the rest of the way.

The ocean was unsettled, a side effect of the cold front moving down from the north. This gave the team the added cover of the sea's rising swell; anyone would have a tough time distinguishing their movement in the distance from that of the waves. Furthermore, god had pulled a dark cloud cover over the stars darkening the surroundings. Riley could not have asked for better conditions.

As the seven SEAL's made it to the anchored ship they spread out around the hull. Each one had his own grappling hook attached to his back.

The grappling hook was a device used for scaling high, inaccessible areas that shot as much as one hundred yards of high tensile, non-fraying line that held a large magnetized hook on the end. It was also able to retract up to three hundred pounds.

Each man looked at his watch, waiting for it to tick over to 02:15, then deployed the grappling hook to the railing above. Initiating the retract mechanism the SEAL's zipped up to the railing with ease as each SEAL found himself on the deck of the tanker. Replacing the hooks back into their chambers each man pulled out his weapon and began making his way to the main entrance of the living quarters. Riley noticed that there was not one man on deck. Perhaps it had been the poor weather that had kept them all inside. Perhaps it was their ignorance in thinking they would not be having company tonight, whatever it was it was about to change, and for the SEAL team, go very wrong.

On the bridge of the tanker the Captain was sitting back in his oversized command seat, allowing his first mate to plot their course once they lifted anchor. Looking out into the blackness the first mate noticed movement below and immediately radioed to the lookouts on the upper deck.

The first mate knew there was a standing order for all men to stay off the deck, so it was no surprise that the armed Turkish militants holding their hostages in the lower depths of the ship's living quarters sprung to life when their lookout had spied the movement of a group of figures preparing to enter. Eleven men in all grabbed their weapons and ran up three levels to the main deck where they waited for the intruders to walk into their trap.

The SEAL's gathered at the entrance of the ship's living quarters. The plan was to enter as quietly as possible. Reconnaissance information had shown that this was the best time to strike, as most everyone would be asleep except for the people on the bridge. Single file they entered into the building and were immediately struck by the change of temperature, the cold, windy chills from the storm brewing outside were left behind and were replaced by a warm, humid environment.

They never knew what hit them.

As the last SEAL in was closing the door gunfire roared in the enclosed space, bullets ricocheted off the walls. One by one the Turk's cut the SEAL's down where they stood. Only Ice Riley and Hawk Hawkins had a chance. Being the first two in, they had been close enough to the stairwell to dive for cover, bullets whizzing past their heads as they dove out of harms way. Hawk screamed at Ice to go and get the hostages, Hawk covered Ice with a hailstorm of gunfire that rained hell in the main entrance of the building. He cut three men down instantly as the others scattered for cover. The other two men took another stairwell that led to the hostages. The race was on.

Ice Riley took the stairs three at a time as he leaped and bounded down towards where he knew the hostages were being held. Holding his sig sauer tightly in his right hand, guiding himself down the railing with his left. He knew he would be met with more militants at any moment and he was ready, strange he thought when he made it to the third floor below where the hostages were and there was nobody to be seen.