"Owen, they've switched ships..."
Just as Owen landed at the nearest U.S. military base to Yemen, he received a call from Becky. Attached to her message were several surveillance photos: two cargo ships, one large and one small. In one of the pictures, a small boat could be seen departing from the larger vessel, carrying a few people—one of whom wore a black hood.
"What happened?"
"I've got good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?"
"Let's hear the bad news—I like saving the good stuff for dessert," Owen replied smoothly.
"The bad news is, the new ship is likely packed with terrorists—probably al-Qaeda operatives—and there's a lot of them."
Owen clicked his tongue. "And the good news?"
"Your hostage is still alive. Also, it's raining down there. Should help with your infiltration."
"Great. Keep me updated if anything changes."
Owen hung up and turned to his team behind him. "Omega, briefing room. Now."
...
Inside the operations briefing room, Owen stood at the board delivering the mission rundown.
"Our target is David Blanchett, 19 years old, white American male. He's a military nerd who Photoshopped fake pictures of himself as a Navy SEAL. Al-Qaeda operatives found his Facebook, believed the photos were real, tracked him down using technical means, and abducted him. Our mission: rescue him alive."
"This guy's something else. Gotta respect the dedication," Fred laughed as soon as Owen finished, and the rest of the team chuckled along.
Even Owen cracked a smile. It was hard not to when the objective of a full-blown counterterrorism mission was a poser who just wanted to impress girls.
Not only had Omega's main squad arrived for the op, but both A and B teams had been brought along as well. Overseas ops meant no home field advantage, so Owen called in all available forces, leaving only C team behind as a contingency.
"Commander, do we have intel on enemy numbers or weaponry?" asked a member of B team.
Owen nodded. "We estimate around twenty hostiles on board, possibly more. Exact armaments unknown. Based on intel, the vessel contains no civilians—just terrorists. If you encounter resistance, you are cleared to use lethal force."
"We're conducting this op in international waters to avoid jurisdictional complications. Navy choppers will ferry us to the target. A team takes the bridge, secures the helm, and cuts propulsion. B team hits the stern. Main squad hits the bow. Split up, sweep separately, maintain radio contact at all times."
The operation was being rushed. Since the target vessel had been identified, Becky's intel team had maintained constant satellite surveillance. All known data about the Oha had been gathered: it was registered in Yemen, its crew entirely Middle Eastern. There was a high likelihood the crew was either complicit or entirely composed of terrorists. Still, there was a slim chance civilians might be present.
The shipping company and the ship itself had clean records. On paper, everything seemed legitimate. Yet no distress signal had been sent when the hostage was brought aboard. Either the terrorists had managed to operate under the radar, or this vessel was always intended as their mobile base.
Owen had initially planned to wait until the ship reached Yemen to follow them to their stronghold and take down an entire cell. But now that they'd switched ships, there was a chance this freighter was the base itself.
From the photos, it was clear everyone on board was armed. Becky's team confirmed: no civilians aboard. That made things easier. Killing was far simpler than detaining.
"No more questions? Good. You've got thirty minutes to prep gear and take care of anything personal. After that, meet on the helipad."
...
Thirty minutes later, Omega's three teams stood ready for deployment in full tactical gear. Behind them, three Chinooks powered up, rotors beginning to spin.
"Boys, this is Omega's first overseas mission. Remember who we are—"
"OMEGA!" the team roared in unison.
They filed into the helicopters, each man and woman ready for what lay ahead.
The choppers lifted off, soaring toward their maritime target. Rain began to fall harder, drowning out the roar of the engines. Just as Becky had said, the weather was on their side.
...
"Hammer One, visual on target vessel. ETA 60 seconds."
"Hammer Two, roger."
"Hammer Three, roger."
The lead Chinook reported in. Owen leaned out the open hatch and spotted the cargo ship below, swaying under the downpour, its deck lights flickering in the storm.
"ETA 30 seconds. Maintain radio silence," came another update.
From their angle, they still had to circle slightly to reach the stern approach point.
"ETA 10 seconds. Check radios. Switch to encrypted channels. Prepare to fast-rope. Go, go, go!"
The Chinooks hovered in place. Ropes dropped.
Ghost gave a thumbs-up and was the first down. He was followed by Swag, Heartbeat, Bayev, Fred, and finally Owen.
At the bridge and stern, A and B teams descended simultaneously. Ropes hissed as soldiers slid down into the shadows. Suppressed mechanical clicks echoed under the rain, muffled entirely by the storm.
Ghost landed beside a porthole. Through it, he spotted a man working some controls inside. The MP7's silenced shot shattered the glass, and the man dropped dead.
A team's radio came to life: "Bridge secured. Taking control now. Disabling propulsion."
Owen hit the deck and tapped his earpiece. "Copy. A team, hold bridge. Ensure deck security. Hammer One, maintain overwatch."
"B team has landed. Commencing sweep."
Everything was going smoothly. With all three entry points secure, Owen's team began moving into the ship interior, clearing rooms and hunting their target.
______
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