OUTCAST Ops: African Firestorm

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

From the co-pilot's seat of the helicopter, Tanner glanced at the radar and then raised a pair of binoculars to stare through them into the darkness ahead.

"Got it," he said to Axiam. "Twenty miles ahead."

Axiam eyeballed his instruments. "Winds are increasing. If they get any stronger, it's going to be a real rough ride in this tub." The Somali looked at the radar again, then at Tanner. "Hang onto your shorts, people!"

The Hip rose a couple of hundred feet. On the horizon, Tanner saw a light. On the radar he saw the blip corresponding to the light’s source.

He pointed to the illumination. "That's it.

Axiam nodded and said something in Somali. Tanner turned to look back into the cargo compartment. Both Geedi and Madar were preparing the machine guns for action, loading them with belt-fed 12.7mm ammo.

"Wilson!"

Tanner turned back to look at Axiam. "Behind my seat is a box of flares. Take them back to my cousins."

Tanner did as he was asked. Madar nodded and took the box, the noise inside the aircraft making unaided conversation impossible. Madar carried the flares to the back of the compartment. Curious, Tanner followed.

Madar placed the box next to a door the size of a welcome mat in the floor. He used a welded handle to open the lid. Beneath lay a honeycomb-like structure, angled toward the rear of the Hip. Madar opened the box and quickly placed flares into each honeycomb.

A tap on the shoulder made Tanner turn to see Geedi standing there. The Somali motioned toward the cockpit with his thumb. Tanner nodded and rejoined Axiam in the cockpit, donning the headset again as he took the co-pilot's seat.

"Infrared countermeasures?" he asked.

Axiam shrugged. "Enough people don't like me, and most don't care about how I die. I've been nearly shot out of the air a couple of times by anti-aircraft missiles. I managed to kludge something together and it's worked so far."

The light on the sea was now much brighter, bright enough for Tanner to see it wasn't a single light, but a number of closely grouped bulbs on a ship. He raised a set of binoculars and viewed the vessel. Tarps had been placed over two areas between the stacks forward of the superstructure, and those spaces were lit up. But he was too far away to see anything else.

"We have to get closer," he said into the radio.

"How much closer?" Axiam demanded.

"Close enough to see what going on under those tarps forwards of the superstructure."

"I don't like it, but it's your funeral. I will do this only once, so make it count."

"Stephen!" Tanner called out. "Take pictures of the ship as we pass. Concentrate on the forward container stacks."

"Pictures, copy."

Axiam pulled back on the collective. "Everyone make sure your seat belts are tight and your trays are upright because the ride is about to become rough." He then spoke rapidly in Somali, presumably the same warning to his cousins.

Tanner pulled the restraint harness around him and fastened it tight.

Liam said over the intercom, "Ready back here."

Axiam dropped the Hip until it was only twenty-five feet above the waves, the water spraying in their wake as they raced toward the container ship at better than a hundred miles an hour. The ship grew larger in the windshield, and with their angle of approach, Tanner could read the ship's name on the stern. The ship continued moving northeast, showing no sign that they had noticed the approaching helicopter.

Four miles from the Northstar, Axiam turned the Hip left, onto a parallel course, and slowing the helicopter. As they flew past the ship, Tanner used the binoculars again to view the vessel.

There were people on top of the superstructure. As they flew past, Tanner saw two of the figures raise tubes, place them on their shoulders and point them at the Hip.

"Incoming!" Tanner shouted as first one, then a second missile streaked from the shoulder launchers.

Axiam snarled something in Somali. He increased their speed and banked hard away from the ship as he clawed for altitude. Tanner heard several "pops" from somewhere below and behind him, but he was more intent on the two missiles hurtling toward them. From somewhere below the Hip, there was bright light that Tanner could only see the edges of.

The missiles suddenly swung away from the ‘copter and toward the light. Seconds later there was an explosion and the Hip was pushed even higher and faster, then dropped like a roller coaster. Tanner felt numb as his stomach dropped.

Axiam, his face grim with concentration, fought the helicopter as it dropped. He gained control and guided their craft away from the ship at wave-top.

Tanner inhaled deeply, bring himself under control again. "I think we found the right ship," he said after a few seconds.

"Ya think?" Axiam growled.

"Everyone back there all right?" Tanner turned in his seat to look.

"Did you know I hate roller coasters?" Naomi said.

"I think I left my stomach back there," Dante chimed in.

"We're fine," Liam said. "What the hell happened?"

"Somebody had man-portable anti-aircraft missiles aboard the ship," Tanner said.

"I'm guessing SA-7s," Axiam said. "Number three on the wacko terrorist list of must-have weapons, right after AKs and RPGs." He glanced at the radar. "They only have a range of about four kilometers, so as long as we stay no closer than five kilometers, we should be okay."

"Stephen, did you get those pics?" Tanner asked.

"I got a few shots off before we got out of there."

"Give the SD card to Danielle. I'm coming back there."

Narsai scanned the water around his ship, searching for any sign of the escaped helicopter. The bridge was dark, with only the control panel indicator lights to supply illumination. He lowered his binoculars, his eyes boring into the radar screen.

There was a blip, intermittent, off to his port, twenty or thirty kilometers out. Large waves rose and fell, increasing in size with each passing hour, and he could feel the deck shift under his feet.

The satellite phone buzzed, and Narsai picked it up, knowing who was calling.

"What is happening?" Riyad demanded, his tone harsh.

"The helicopter dropped flares and avoided the missiles. We think it's somewhere off our port side. We'll be ready for its next attack."

"You should have let it get closer."

"It veered away before we shot the missiles at it. I think they were trying to locate the warheads while staying outside of machine-gun range. I'm not sure they knew we had the Strellas."

"Do not assume," Riyad said in a lecturing tone. "I doubt they are going to assault the ship on their own. There are American ships closing in on your position. They'll be there within twelve hours."

"Your orders for me, sir?"

Riyad was silent for a few seconds, then said, "I am not a sailor, Saleh. You know the ship and the crew you command. I leave the decision to you. If you cannot execute DESERT WIND, execute SANDSTORM instead. The targets are still in place."

Narsai swallowed, a trickle of fear running through him. "I understand, sir."

"Whatever happens, do not let them capture the missiles. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir. I will scuttle the ship before that happens."

"Good. Allah be with you, my friend."

"Peace be with Him, and you too, sir."

"Good-bye."

Narsai walked over to the chart table and consulted the map there. He would stick with the original plan for now, but he needed a second target, something that he could fire at if it became clear that the Abu Dhabi mission could no longer be completed. As tempting as it would be to fire the missiles at the warships to the east, they were too far away and possessed serious countermeasures. There was no cities close enough that would allow them to make the statement the colonel wanted to make.

But the colonel had a backup plan, SANDSTORM, and that target was the Port of Salalah, on the southern coast of Oman. A regular port of call for the infidel warships, it currently hosted a pair of French destroyers, a Finnish frigate and the big prize — an American amphibious assault ship. SANDSTORM was a contingency in case the aircraft carrier was not in Dubai during the time window.

Now, it looked like it might be the best target.

Narsai straightened. "Musa, Increase speed to twenty-five knots."

"Yes, sir."

The ICA captain stepped away from the chart table and resumed searching for the helicopter. If it came down to it, he would launch SANDSTORM, but for now, he had a ship to defend.

"Kalid," he said into his radio. "I want a four-man team up here on the bridge, now."