“Two more minutes,” Marcus said, between clenched teeth as he worked on the wiring.
“We’re stuck on the main deck,” Carlos said.
“Several guards are on the upper deck. They are coming your way. Be advised.” Ghost spoke quickly.
“Right or left?” Aberlour asked, tightening his grip on the rifle.
“Left.”
“How many?”
“Hard to say. At least two,” Carlos replied.
Aberlour gestured for Oli to hide in the space behind the door.
“Hold your fire,” Aberlour told his men, as he crouched down behind the console, a few feet away from the door, ready to pounce. “Marcus, move,” he ordered, though the man was way ahead of him, already swinging himself over the console and crouching down behind it as Aberlour had. Then they waited. Always the waiting game.
It was hard to make out sounds outside the door, but Aberlour finally heard rubber soles hitting metal. He grabbed his Ka-Bar and signaled that Oliver should attack anyone who came through the door. Oliver nodded and grabbed his own Ka-Bar.
“We’ll never get off this fucking ship!” A voice came from outside, just as Aberlour caught sight of a man’s silhouette through a side window.
“He promised three days of this, but it’s been two fucking weeks,” another one complained.
The first man pushed the door open and stepped inside the bridge. He turned, laughing at the other’s reply. “Last time I run a job for those fuckers,” he agreed.
When he turned back, the second man closely following behind, he found Aberlour waiting, a blade in hand, and Oliver at their backs.
The two men were dispatched in a matter of seconds. The first finding a quick and silent death at the mercy of Aberlour’s Ka-Bar. The second slid to the floor silently, his neck bent the wrong way, eyes still wide with shock.
“It’s up!” Marcus announced, having returned to his repair work the minute the two insurgents were taken out.
“What now?” Oliver asked, returning to guard duty, gripping his Ka-Bar in case more guards appeared.
“We can’t wait here,” Marcus pointed out.
“But if it didn’t work, we won’t know unless the SEALs fail to show up. Then what? Can’t exactly return to home base for a do-over, now, can we?” Oliver argued.
“How sure are you that it worked?” Aberlour asked Marcus, keeping his gaze focused on the right side of the ship.
“About 80%,” he replied, confidently. “If the Navy is waiting for a signal, they should be able to spot it easily enough.”
Aberlour gave a sharp nod and pondered the situation for a minute.
“Then we do a partial retreat. Ghost and Carlos will head back to the ship. We stay until the SEALs show up.” Ultimately, it was his decision, but he wanted their input.
“We can hold the main deck,” Ghost declared.
“We don’t need you to. Your position is too open and the longer you stay there, the higher the risk of discovery. Toss the first guy overboard as you leave. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Aberlour looked over at Marcus and Oliver. Neither of them disagreed. Marcus stood up, weapon trained and ready.
“Copy that. Ghost and Chichi in route. JD, pick us up,” Carlos said over the comms.
“We shouldn’t be here when SEAL Team 2 shows up,” Oliver said, after a moment of listening to the groaning of Ghost and Carlos as they lowered themselves down the side of the cargo ship.
“Agreed,” Marcus replied tersely.
Aberlour knew they were both right. When the SEALs showed up, they’d come out shooting. They’d shoot first and ask questions later. Odds were, if they were still here when SEALTeam 2 stormed the bridge, a stray bullet might send them to an early grave.
