PRIMAL Vengeance (3) (2 page)

AW609 'Dragonfly'

Pirate Alley, Gulf of Aden

       The 'Tian Hai' churned its way through the lukewarm waters of the Gulf of Aden, heading north, bound for the Sudan. Sitting low in the water the heavily laden cargo ship made a steady fourteen knots, slowly working its way through the region known as Pirate Alley.

       High above the water on the ship's bridge a cigarette glowed faintly in the darkness. A shower of ash disappeared in the wind as the butt was stubbed out on the handrail and tossed into the inky black water. The Chinese security contractor pulled night vision goggles down over his eyes, a copy of the US designed PVS-7, and scanned the horizon.

       He was on the look out for pirates, Somali criminals intent on seizing the ship and her cargo. Already the 'Tian Hai' security detail had fought off two attempts to board the freighter. The pirates hadn't fared well, but the sharks had.

       The guard almost wished for pirates as he mechanically scanned his zone of responsibility. The ambient light from the new moon struggled to penetrate the low cloud base and through his goggles he could barely see past the end of the ship, over 200 meters to his front. He lifted the goggles and reached for the packet of cigarettes tucked into a pouch on his assault rig.

       "The cigarette will give away your position. Do not smoke again!" a voice spoke in Mandarin.

       The contractor snapped his head around to see Yang step out of the shadows and into the faint glow cast by the ship's navigation lights. He was a slim figure dressed in black combat fatigues and baseball cap. His only weapon was a sidearm on his hip.

       "Yes, sir." The guard's hands flashed back to the
QBZ-97 assault rifle
slung across his chest.

       "Have you checked your sectors?"

       "Yes, they are all clear."

       "Are they?" Yang nodded into the darkness.

       The guard flipped his goggles down and scanned the horizon. At the very edge of the sensor's range he could just make out the faint glow of a fishing boat. The vessel was heading away from them. He flipped the goggles up and turned back to Yang.

       "Sir, how...?"

       The man had disappeared back into the shadows.

***

       Ten nautical miles ahead of the 'Tian Hai' an unusual looking aircraft hovered above the ocean. In the darkness it resembled a giant dragonfly, loitering on the surface of a pond as it searched for prey.

       The
AW609
was a civilian version of the US armed forces
V-22 Osprey
. Like its military cousin, it relied on a pair of giant propellers for conventional flight that when swiveled skyward allowed it to hover like a helicopter. The tilt-rotor had the speed and range of a fixed-wing aircraft, yet unlike a seaplane it could support water operations in the heaviest of seas.

       The grey tilt-rotor hovered a few meters above the swell, the downward wash of the twin blades whipping the surface into a frenzy of spray and froth. It rotated slowly until its nose faced into the wind. The door on the left side slid open revealing a faint green glow from the cabin.

       A black clad figure appeared, quickly scanned the surface and pushed a large bundle out into the ocean below. A number of smaller bundles followed before the man dropped from the aircraft and disappeared into the water. He was followed by a second man who splashed into the ocean beside him.

       With a roar the tilt-rotor climbed away into the dark sky, leaving the two men alone in the Indian Ocean, nearly 100 nautical miles from shore.

       "Beautiful night for a swim, mate," the first man said cheerfully as he treaded water, holding onto the side of the large bundle he had pushed from the aircraft.

       "It is nice, Bish, but I think I'd prefer a boat ride," Mirza replied from the other side of the bundle.

       "Probably need a boat then. Get clear, I'll inflate."

       "Roger." The former Indian Special Forces soldier pushed off the bundle and bobbed in the black water.

       Bishop tore open a velcro panel on the side of the package. With one hand bracing against the rubber he pulled hard on a plastic handle. There was a pop and a hiss as it split open and unfolded slowly. The hissing continued until it took the form of a small inflatable boat.

       Both men climbed into the compact rubber craft, dragging the various dry bags in behind them. They worked quickly, preparing their personal equipment. The pair pulled on body armor over their wet suits and donned lightweight helmets. Everything was black, from their gloves and ropes to the suppressed
MP7
submachine guns that hung from slings attached to their armor. Mission success was dependant on stealth.

       "Rubber Ducky, this is Dragonfly," the pilot of the tilt-rotor checked in, his English accent broadcasting through the men's earpieces.

       "Ducky here, go ahead."

       "How's the water, chaps?"

       "Surprisingly cool for this time of year."

       "Told you to go the five mil over the three mil. Rookie error, boys."

       Bishop laughed. Their pilot was also the PRIMAL team's equipment specialist and resident technician. He had helped them set up for the mission and had recommended thicker wetsuits.

       "This is Africa, Mitch, not some shitty beach off Scotland. We'll be fine."

       Mirza interjected, "I hate to interrupt, gentlemen, but we have a ship to catch."

       Bishop laughed again. "Yeah, Mitch, now where the hell is she?"

       "OK, I have the 'Tian Hai' on scope. She's eight nautical miles from your location to the southeast and closing."

       "Cheers, Mitch, we're ready to roll."

       "Roger, chaps, I'll be in a loiter here, keeping an eye on things. Drop me a bell when you need exfil."

       "Too easy. Bishop out."

       Bishop activated the data link on his iPRIMAL, the combat interface on his forearm wirelessly communicated through the satellite radio attached to his back. Through the touch-screen he could access information being beamed from Dragonfly, or from PRIMAL headquarters over 11,000 kilometers away. Scrolling through the available feeds he found the one he was looking for and activated it with a tap. On the screen he could now see the radar image from the tilt-rotor. It showed their own location and that of their target, the cargo ship 'Tian Hai'.

       Mirza activated the electric drive motor and the two men lay low in the boat while it skimmed through the water at ten knots. The small vessel sat a mere two feet above the water and there was no chance the navigational radar suite on the 'Tian Hai' could detect its approach.

       The combat interface on Bishop's forearm vibrated, letting him know they were eight kilometers out from the target. He retrieved a long cylinder from one of the dry bags and propped it against the inflated wall of the boat. Flicking off a safety bail in the middle of the tube he pressed a rubber switch. There was a loud thud, followed by a snap as the modified
Switchblade
drone shot out of the tube, flying into the darkness with a whirr.

       The visual feed from the Switchblade appeared on Bishop's iPRIMAL. His fingers danced over the flex-screen to plot the UAV a route to the target. The sensors on the miniature aircraft easily detected the thermal signature emitting from the merchant ship's exhaust. An automated flight program would keep the UAV in a holding pattern above it giving the PRIMAL operatives an all seeing eye in the sky. Now all they needed to do was get on board.

       The 'Tian Hai' appeared in Mirza's night vision goggles as a grainy shape. At one mile he could not make out any of ship's detail. He aimed the inflatable slightly to one side of the mass and glanced at his partner. Bishop had his night vision goggles flicked up and was inspecting his combat interface.

       "Looks like at least three hostiles topside." He whispered despite the throb of the freighter's engines as it bore down on them. "One on each of the bridge wings and one roving on deck amongst the containers. The port side looks like the best approach."

       Mirza gave a nod and corrected their course. When the ship was only a few hundred meters in front of them he throttled back.

       "She's sitting low in the water, Aden, must be fully laden," Mirza said.

       "Just thinking the same thing. Looks like Chua's intel is spot on."

       Both men gripped the sides of the boat as they hit the wall of water being pushed forward by the bow of the cargo ship. The little craft launched into the air as Mirza powered over the wash. Thumping back onto the water he whipped the little craft around in a tight circle, accelerated and edged forward until they were bouncing in the white water just behind the bow.

       Their boat came in against the metal skin of the ship and Bishop leaned out and slapped a pair of rubber-coated electromagnets against the hull. They thudded in place and he pulled the tether ropes tight, locking them to the hulking freighter that towered above them.

       Even with the 'Tian Hai' sitting low in the water the distance between the rubber boat and the deck was over twenty feet. Bishop checked the UAV feed. One of the guards was now walking directly above them. Bishop looked up and spotted a gloved hand resting on the rail.

       "Tango above," he whispered over the radio, flicking down night vision goggles and raising his MP7. Seconds ticked by and Bishop's shoulders started to ache from holding the submachine gun at a high angle.

       A glowing object dropped from the sentry and arced towards the men in the boat. Through night vision goggles it looked like a blazing meteorite trailing a shower of sparks. Bishop ducked as the cigarette bounced off the side of the boat and was extinguished by the waves.

       "Filthy fucking habit," he whispered and checked his iPRIMAL again. The guard was moving away.

       "Aden, did you see the glow?" Mirza asked.

       "Yeah, NVGs. Chua's intel is definitely spot on." The PRIMAL intelligence officer had briefed them that the Chinese Army had arranged the guards for this vessel. "Guys like this aren't going to be protecting containers of pirated DVDs and Armani knock-offs. Let's roll."

       Bishop let his weapon hang from its sling and secured it to his side with a strap. He opened one of the dry bags and pulled out a coiled rope complete with a black rubber-coated grappling hook and an auto-ascender. He lobbed the hook high, it sailed over the rail and landed on the deck of the ship with a thud. With a sharp tug it caught onto the handrail.

       Bishop hefted another dry bag onto his back and hooked into the auto-ascender. He thumbed the activator and the tubular device bit into the rope hauling him up the side of the ship. In a couple of seconds he reached the handrail and pulled himself over. With a deft hand he unsnapped the device and let it slide back down the rope.

       "All clear." He raised the MP7 to his shoulder and slipped into the shadows between the containers.

       "Coming up." Mirza picked up his own dry bag before being hauled up the rope. He pulled himself over the rail, unhooked the grappling iron and let it drop into the boat below. Moments later he was crouched next to Bishop on board the 'Tian Hai'.

       They hid in the darkness cast by the containers stacked on the immense deck. Bishop checked the UAV feed again. It was all clear. They crept forward, weapons held at the ready. Dressed in black, they blended into the shadows cast by the ship's dim lighting.

       Mirza led them towards the rear of the ship, their sophisticated night vision goggles fusing ambient light with thermal signatures, turning the darkness into a hazy green world.

       "Target door ahead."

       They stopped at the entrance that led from the ship's external walkway to the internal cargo holds. Mirza spun the wheel and the steel door swung open. Inside was pitch black and he could feel the hot, thick air. Only the superstructure and crew quarters were air-conditioned.

       Mirza stepped into the darkness, activated the infrared light on his helmet, and paused.

       "Reed switch," he stated, inspecting the entrance. Invisible to the naked eye, his infrared light filled the stairwell with a green glow when viewed through their NVGs. The illumination clearly showed a magnetic switch attached to the door.

       Bishop swore, pushed in after Mirza and closed the hatch behind him. Switching on his own light, he inspected the device, adjusting the focus on his night vision. Someone had attached a magnetic alarm to the door.

       Bishop ran his hand slowly along the cable that connected the switch to a radio transmitter. He was sweating in his wetsuit, beads streaming down his face. The eighty pound dry-bag on his back weighed him down. He checked the UAV feed; the guards on deck seemed to still be in their normal routine. Go or no go? he asked himself.

       "Aden." Mirza spoke with urgency. "We need to make a decision now!"

       "OK, let's do this as quick as possible. Consider the mission compromised: shoot to kill."

       "Roger. We need to take the stairs down three more levels to the cargo hold."

       "Lead the way."

       They moved cautiously, keenly aware that someone could be responding to the triggered alarm. At the bottom of the stairs they reached another door. Mirza opened it and Bishop moved through holding his MP7 low, using its infrared flashlight for extra illumination.

       Within the cargo hold the air was even thicker and the throb of the ship's diesel engines incessant. They closed the door and pushed deep into the hold, squeezing past stacked crates.

       Bishop froze and held up his hand. "Holy shit!"

       "What is it?" Mirza asked, creeping forward.

       "Look!"

       Through his NVGs Mirza could make out the hulking shape of an armored vehicle. Turning his head he could see a whole row of tanks.