Read Online Operation Sea Ghost by Mack Maloney - Free Book Online
Authors: Mack Maloney
Tags: Suspense
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the equipment.”
“But isn’t that where our mark is supposed to be?” the captain asked, putting his finger on the blur.
“And if it’s two ships, who is the other one?” the XO added.
The tech thought a moment. “Maybe that ship that went past us a few minutes ago?” he said.
“Not unless they collided out there somewhere,” the XO replied. “Other than that, what would one have to do with the other—unless they answered their distress call?”
The captain was growing agitated. “Whatever happened, our Vietnamese friends don’t appear to be following the plan.”
The XO could only agree. “What should we do?” he asked.
The captain studied the radar screen again, then said: “Better send in the playboys. Maybe they can straighten it out.”
* * *
THE XO LEFT the bridge and quickly headed aft.
He went by a sealed-off section where accommodations for the Vietnamese crew had been laid in.
Food, clothes and money were waiting for them here. The XO took a moment to peek inside the large cabin and thought, Like a party no one wants to come to.
He kept moving until he reached the aft portion of the bottom deck. Two fast-boats were waiting here, along with a dozen SEALs, all dressed in battle gear and mission-ready. Also on hand were five Filipinos, mercenaries hired by the CIA for this unusual occasion.
This compartment had a recessed panel on its aft wall. This panel was open and looking out onto the foggy sea.
The SEAL team commander saw the XO coming and got his men to their feet.
“What’s our status, sir?” the SEAL CO asked.
“Status is officially unclear at the moment,” the XO replied.
He briefed the SEALs on the situation, how there was some confusion sorting out ships inside the fog bank.
“The captain suggests you guys deploy, get into the soup and see what’s going on,” the XO told them.
“How about our little friends?” the SEAL asked, nodding toward the Filipinos.
The XO just shrugged. “We might have to give them a box lunch and send them home. We’ll see.”
“Should we bring the UDT gear?” the SEAL CO asked.
The XO eyed the three duffel bags he knew held enough explosives to sink a good-size cargo ship.
“Maybe best you guys go in first,” he told the SEAL officer. “If you need the heavy stuff, we’ll get it to you.”
The SEAL CO just nodded.
“OK,” he said. “But just in case you lose sight of us, we’ll leave a trail of breadcrumbs.”
* * *
FIVE MINUTES LATER, the two SEAL fast-boats were heading into the thickest part of the fog bank.
They were equipped with a smaller version of the sea surface radar. With surprisingly little difficulty, they were soon approaching what everyone had been calling “the target.” At first, it looked exactly as it had been described to them: a rusty old ship.
One of the SEALs’ boats came up alongside the elderly vessel and several SEALs rappelled up to it. But as soon as they were on board they knew something was wrong.
This ship was way older and way smaller than what they were expecting. Plus, there didn’t seem to be anyone on board.
They searched the bridge, the cabins and the engine rooms, but found no one. And there was certainly no large shipment of old M-16 rifles or small black box that had a big “Z” stenciled onto it.
The SEAL team leader called back to the USS Messia with some very disturbing news.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, sir,” he said to the Messia ’s captain. “But this ain’t the ship we want.”
* * *
BACK ON THE Messia, the captain had retreated to his cabin, hoping to figure out what had gone wrong.
He received a subsequent report from the SEALs saying they’d picked up a bunch of Vietnamese seamen in the water, but no one was exactly sure quite yet who they were.
The ship’s communications officer appeared at his door a moment later holding a dispatch he’d just written.
He passed it to the captain who read it aloud:
“But isn’t that where our mark is supposed to be?” the captain asked, putting his finger on the blur.
“And if it’s two ships, who is the other one?” the XO added.
The tech thought a moment. “Maybe that ship that went past us a few minutes ago?” he said.
“Not unless they collided out there somewhere,” the XO replied. “Other than that, what would one have to do with the other—unless they answered their distress call?”
The captain was growing agitated. “Whatever happened, our Vietnamese friends don’t appear to be following the plan.”
The XO could only agree. “What should we do?” he asked.
The captain studied the radar screen again, then said: “Better send in the playboys. Maybe they can straighten it out.”
* * *
THE XO LEFT the bridge and quickly headed aft.
He went by a sealed-off section where accommodations for the Vietnamese crew had been laid in.
Food, clothes and money were waiting for them here. The XO took a moment to peek inside the large cabin and thought, Like a party no one wants to come to.
He kept moving until he reached the aft portion of the bottom deck. Two fast-boats were waiting here, along with a dozen SEALs, all dressed in battle gear and mission-ready. Also on hand were five Filipinos, mercenaries hired by the CIA for this unusual occasion.
This compartment had a recessed panel on its aft wall. This panel was open and looking out onto the foggy sea.
The SEAL team commander saw the XO coming and got his men to their feet.
“What’s our status, sir?” the SEAL CO asked.
“Status is officially unclear at the moment,” the XO replied.
He briefed the SEALs on the situation, how there was some confusion sorting out ships inside the fog bank.
“The captain suggests you guys deploy, get into the soup and see what’s going on,” the XO told them.
“How about our little friends?” the SEAL asked, nodding toward the Filipinos.
The XO just shrugged. “We might have to give them a box lunch and send them home. We’ll see.”
“Should we bring the UDT gear?” the SEAL CO asked.
The XO eyed the three duffel bags he knew held enough explosives to sink a good-size cargo ship.
“Maybe best you guys go in first,” he told the SEAL officer. “If you need the heavy stuff, we’ll get it to you.”
The SEAL CO just nodded.
“OK,” he said. “But just in case you lose sight of us, we’ll leave a trail of breadcrumbs.”
* * *
FIVE MINUTES LATER, the two SEAL fast-boats were heading into the thickest part of the fog bank.
They were equipped with a smaller version of the sea surface radar. With surprisingly little difficulty, they were soon approaching what everyone had been calling “the target.” At first, it looked exactly as it had been described to them: a rusty old ship.
One of the SEALs’ boats came up alongside the elderly vessel and several SEALs rappelled up to it. But as soon as they were on board they knew something was wrong.
This ship was way older and way smaller than what they were expecting. Plus, there didn’t seem to be anyone on board.
They searched the bridge, the cabins and the engine rooms, but found no one. And there was certainly no large shipment of old M-16 rifles or small black box that had a big “Z” stenciled onto it.
The SEAL team leader called back to the USS Messia with some very disturbing news.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, sir,” he said to the Messia ’s captain. “But this ain’t the ship we want.”
* * *
BACK ON THE Messia, the captain had retreated to his cabin, hoping to figure out what had gone wrong.
He received a subsequent report from the SEALs saying they’d picked up a bunch of Vietnamese seamen in the water, but no one was exactly sure quite yet who they were.
The ship’s communications officer appeared at his door a moment later holding a dispatch he’d just written.
He passed it to the captain who read it aloud:
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