OUTCAST Ops: The Poseidon Initiative

FORTY-NINE

Tanner emerged from the wheelhouse onto the barge’s deck. He drew his PM9 and focused on the MUAV now hovering over the mega-yacht’s deck full of VIP guests. It hadn’t yet released its STX payload but he was all too aware that any second now that’s exactly what could happen.

If Liam was unable to stop the drone via the controls, then he would have to take drastic action. He aimed his gun toward the quadracopter, which bobbed and weaved in and out of his sights. The Secret Service agents aboard the Lincoln were now on deck looking up at the potential threat, busily communicating into their radios. By the time they took action, it would almost certainly be too late.

Tanner squeezed off two rounds at the micro-drone, both missing. Knowing he would now draw the wrath of the Secret Service on him, he fired again, a single shot, but a good one. He watched as one of the MUAV’s rotors broke away from the body and flew off into the water.

“Take out the drone!” Tanner yelled to the Secret Service guys, but it was no good. They began firing on the barge as the MUAV, still airborne, struggled to maintain a hover with only three-quarters of unbalanced power.

Tanner ducked behind the structure and ran around to the opposite side, pounding on the wall as he went to let Liam know that the situation was critical. He came out on the other side and knelt on one knee, steadying his aim. He had maybe a couple of seconds before the agents became aware of his new position.

He squeezed off three more bullets, feeling relief more than satisfaction as two of them found their mark and pieces of the MUAV shattered into the air, the micro-copter plummeting toward the yacht’s starboard rail. Tanner held his breath as he lowered his weapon and scoured the MUAV for signs of a plume of STX ejecting from it, but he saw none as the contraption impacted with the rail. For one heart-stopping moment Tanner thought the micro-copter was going to fall back into the sea, where it would no longer pose a threat. But instead the broken machine tilted and fell onto the deck of the yacht. Those nearby stampeded away from the wreckage.

And then a Secret Service round splintered the wooden wall above Tanner’s head, and the OUTCAST operative wheeled away. He got to his feet and dashed to the door of the structure. Throwing it open, he ran to the inner room where Liam stood guard over the Hofstad prisoner, watching the monitors.

“Good work! It landed on the yacht but I haven’t seen any plume.”

Tanner nodded. “Secret Service is all over us, though. Patch a call through to Danielle and tell her we need comm. I’ll try the manual method.”

Tanner moved to the VHF marine radio that was part of normal marine vessel equipment. Maybe he could explain himself to the yacht’s captain and establish a line of communication with the president’s team that way.

They heard the thudding of lead slugs against the structure’s outer walls as they reached out to communicate. It was Liam who made contact first. Flashing on how much the communication system had cost to implement, Tanner was grateful for it now, and he made a mental note to look into having it upgraded upon their return. If they returned.

Liam quickly conveyed the situation to Danielle, who promised to contact the White House and brief the appropriate people on the breaking situation. She did not want to distract them with the horrible news about Jasmijn, but did say that the antidote had been developed successfully and that Dante, Stephen and Naomi were en route to Maine with doses of it now via supersonic air transport, should it be needed.

Tanner, meanwhile was having trouble raising anyone on the Lincoln. He was using channel 16, the one reserved for marine emergencies, and getting no response. He switched over to a vessel-to-vessel channel and hailed the president’s yacht.

“Barge to Lincoln, barge to Lincoln,” he began, wanting to make it crystal clear where he was transmitting from. A few seconds passed and then he received a reply from a stressed-sounding male voice.

“This is yacht, Lincoln to barge. You are ordered to surrender. I repeat, you are ordered by the United States Secret Service to surrender. Show yourselves on deck with your hands up!”

“Just tell President Carmichael that this is Tanner Wilson of OUTCAST. I’m on board the barge with Liam Reilly, my team member, and a suspected Hofstad terror operator we are holding until he can be placed in custody, over!”

The reply came quickly, suggesting that nothing was being done to authenticate Tanner’s story. “You will need to surrender regardless of who you are!”

Tanner looked over at Liam, who stared with concern at the remaining drone display. “Special Forces team incoming,” he noted, watching an assemblage of black-clad men aboard a black Zodiac inflatable boat approaching the barge at high speed.

“We better comply.” Tanner waved an arm toward the exit.

“What about him?” Liam pointed to the terrorist bound on the floor, who had become more alert at the sound of the gunfire.

Tanner considered using him as a human shield but decided it increased the risk that he and Liam would be seen as the terrorists.

“Leave him. Let’s go.”

Tanner and Liam tucked their guns into the front of their waistbands, where they would be visible, but kept their hands raised high as they exited the structure onto the deck of the barge.