OUTCAST Ops: The Poseidon Initiative

FORTY-SIX

The micro-drone made a bee-line for the president’s mega-yacht. Tanner watched it move off and realized that they would not be able to stop it. He could reach it by waverunner before it got to the yacht, but it was flying about twenty feet over the water. He wasn’t sure where on the Lincoln the president was, but hopefully indoors. He was about to suggest they try and warn Carmichael somehow, when Liam pointed urgently into the sky in front of them.

Another micro-helicopter had just been launched from the barge.

Followed by another.

And another.

Tanner’s heart sank as he watched the squadron of what he knew to be MUAVs, or Micro Unmanned Aerial Vehicles, flock toward the vessel that carried the POTUS. Now, with four MUAVs airborne, there was definitely no way he and Liam would be able to defend the yacht. He studied the barge while he idled his ski. The drones were being controlled from it. They were much closer to it than to the yacht. He signaled to Liam.

The barge.

The ex-SEAL caught on to his meaning immediately and directed his waverunner toward the low, flat vessel pursuing the yacht. Tanner took the starboard side of the barge while Liam ran past the port. Unlike many barges, this one actually had a structure on it, rather than consisting of only a flat, open deck. Most of the deck space was open, but there was a single story structure occupying the forward-most quarter of the vessel. It must be from inside that that the terrorists were controlling the MUAVs.

Tanner eyeballed the side of the barge as he neared. They would have to find a way to board it somehow. At least all of the crew were inside, which would make boarding much easier without anyone on deck to repel them. This vessel was all offense. All they had planned to do was to get near enough the president’s yacht to launch the micro-drones, make their strike and then…Tanner doubted they cared what happened after that. The people on board were no doubt simply doing the dirty work for those in command. Whether they believed they would be rewarded with endless virgins in Heaven for carrying out their holy jihad, or would actually be able to escape after striking the yacht of the POTUS, it made no difference. They would stop at nothing to achieve their objective.

Tanner saw no trailing lines or access ladders from which to board the barge, but there was a row of tires along the top rail, used as fenders. He brought his ski up alongside, throttling down to match the slow pace of the barge. Then, eyeing two tires a few feet ahead of him, he gunned the ski’s throttle and leapt a couple of seconds later, arms outstretched, reaching for the open tires.

His right hand grabbed one, and, not wanting to let the momentum of his jump go to waste, he swung his legs up into the well of another tire. He scrambled up to the deck, threw a leg over the wet planks, and rolled onto the barge.

Tanner ran to the opposite side and held out a hand to Liam, who had guided his waverunner to the side of the vessel. Liam jumped and Tanner pulled him aboard. The two operatives crouched low on deck, scanning their new surroundings. The forward structure had no rear-facing windows. Tanner held two fingers together on his right hand and pointed to the structure. He and Liam ran to the rear wall, glad for the cover it gave them from nearby boats. They had no way of knowing if Hofstad had other craft in place in the harbor.

Tanner controlled the river of adrenaline surging through his body. Behind the wall he leaned on were terrorists controlling drones about to spray the POTUS with a deadly neuro-agent. At least he and Liam both carried small arms. He pulled his Kahr PM9 from the hip holster concealed beneath his I HEART SEAFOOD T-shirt and checked the action. Liam readied his Smith & Wesson 686 .357 revolver. Tanner made a box-like motion with one finger from each hand, indicating that they should split up and move around the structure, meeting in front by the only door they’d seen.

The two OUTCAST operatives converged on the front end of the structure, one on either side of a door with two high windows set into it. They each gave the other a hand signal to indicate things were clear on their respective sides of the enclosure. Looking across the expanse of water toward President Carmichael’s yacht, Tanner saw the squadron of micro-drones perhaps halfway to it. They had to act before the pleasure boat was blanketed in deadly mist.

Liam put the hand not holding his gun on the rusty piece of metal bolted to the door. Tanner nodded, his own weapon at the ready.

Liam pulled the door open.