SEAL Team 666

23

It took both of them a good ten minutes to remove the anchor lines. On the bridge, Laws was only able to start one engine. He got the ship moving away from the dock just in time. They could see police cars speeding in their direction, lights flashing. Laws pulled a walkie-talkie out of his cargo pocket, but it was silent. Whatever frequency the police were using, it wasn’t the same one the guards had tuned in to.

After checking to ensure there were no recording devices, they removed their masks, slipping them around so they rested on the backs of their heads.

“We got about twenty minutes before they get their shit together and get a boat in the water or a bird in the air to come after us. We need to do forensics on the computer,” Laws said, “but Fratty isn’t going to be able to help us any time soon.”

“He’s not going to be able to help us at all,” Holmes said, coming onto the bridge with the dead SEAL hanging over a shoulder. He laid Fratty down gently, then removed his own mask.

Hoover went to Fratty and whined. She lay down and rested her head on his chest.

Ruiz came in behind him. He took off his mask, revealing a dour expression. “I checked another crate. It had another of those creatures but it was made of stone.”

“Chinese tomb guardian. I recognized it from a description in the mission log,” Laws said.

“Why’d it look like that … all pieced together from other animals,” Walker asked.

“It’s a chimera. They’re not natural. Like a golem, they’re the creation of magic.”

“Enough of the zoology lesson,” Holmes said to Laws. “How far are we away from getting off ship?” Turning to Ruiz, he asked, “Are the charges set?”

Ruiz nodded. “Just waiting for input.”

“It was the blood that brought it to life,” Laws murmured. He walked over to Fratty and knelt down. “Damn it. He was a good SEAL and friend.”

“Had to be the blood,” Ruiz said. “That thing down there drank it or something.”

“More like a sacrifice,” Laws pointed out. “I think it was more than the blood. It was probably the spirit too.”

“How can you be so sure?” Walker asked.

“I can’t. It just makes sense to me.”

Walker stared at the body. He’d barely known Fratty, Anthony Fratolilio, and now he never would.

Holmes pointed at a workstation. “There. Walker, turn that on.”

Walker did as he was told. It was a regular desktop computer from a popular brand. But when it booted up, it was all Chinese. “Uh, Laws?”

Laws came over and went through the boot-up. “This is just a cargo ship. It’s not a military or an intelligence vessel, so I’m not anticipating any serious software. How goes it outside, Ruiz?”

Ruiz had moved to the window. “Right now, a bunch of police are standing on the wharf scratching their heads. You dispose of the bodies, Walker?”

“Yes.”

Holmes shook his head. “At least you did something right.”

Before Walker could respond, Laws interrupted. “Damn. Some sort of firewall. I can’t do anything else. I speak Chinese, not computer.”

Holmes checked Fratty’s side pocket and came out with a box that had several cables connected to it. “If he were alive, he’d be using this right now.”

“What is it?” Walker asked.

“It allows someone to break into a system by establishing an uplink to NSA. They have several geeks on standby who know exactly what to do.”

“Can’t we do it?” Walker asked. “I mean, if it’s that easy, we could hook it up, right?”

Holmes held the device in the air. Eight different wires hung from it. It had several buttons and one knob. Might as well have been a warp drive for a starship. “Let me see if I can get help.” As mission commander, Holmes carried the satellite uplink. They hadn’t wanted to use it, but now it seemed like they’d have to if they wanted any chance of success … any chance to give meaning to Fratty’s death. After a good minute, Holmes connected to an NSA switch, but couldn’t get any further. Although the others heard the exchange over their own headsets, Holmes told them, “NSA is currently supporting operations in Afghanistan. There’s a big push for HVTs right now,” he said, meaning high-value targets. “I’m told they’re unavailable.”

“They wouldn’t be able to make any push if we hadn’t got Geronimo. Can’t they show us any love?”

“Wait a minute,” Walker said, his eyes opening in wonder. “You got Geronimo. I thought—”

Holmes waved off the question. “All of their ears are on the mountains in South Waziristan. They don’t have the ability to spare anyone. So they say.”

“So they say,” repeated Ruiz.

“Sounds like they lack the will.” Laws shook his head in frustration. “Is this how we end the mission? Did Fratty die for nothing?”

Walker angled his head. He had an idea. “What if we get some help from someone else?”

“Like 1-800-Free-Hacker?” Laws muttered.

“No. More like CIA SPG.”

“SPG is a good choice.” Holmes nodded. “Go ahead and call your girl. I’ll report to Billings while you see if you can get hold of SPG. Ruiz?”

“Sir.”

“See if you can contact our recovery vehicle. We might need it in a hurry.”

“Wilco.”

Everyone switched their MBITRs to private mode, so they could each establish private networks. Remembering his classes at the beginning of Phase III training, Walker went through the protocols, finally connecting to the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) operations center. He’d actually been to the command at Fort Bragg on one of their field trips and had met several of the operations officers, so when he heard the voice on the other end, he knew exactly who it was.

“JSOC C and C.”

“This is…” He covered his mouthpiece. “Who are we?” he asked the room.

Laws raised an eyebrow. “We’re Ghost. You’re Ghost Four.”

“This is Ghost Four, requesting connect to SPG Coronado.”

There was a pause. Then, “Ghost Four, we don’t have you on mission. What’s your five?”

Laws, who’d tuned in to the conversation on his own MBITR, shook his head.

“We’re on mission. No location. I need the connect ASAP.”

Another pause. “C and C requires your five for plotting.”

Laws was about to jump in but Walker held up his hand. “Burt, how many energy drinks have you had today?”

“Ghost Four, do I know you?”

“Two words. Pure Titanium.”

This pause was much shorter than the others. “Connecting SPG, out.”

Since SPG didn’t have a secure communications system tied into JSOC, Walker was routed to a landline. As it rang, he saw Laws mouth the words Pure Titanium?

“It’s a strip club on Bragg Boulevard.”

“I know what it is. What’s it have to do with old Burt and the energy drinks?”

“Burt had so many energy drinks, he couldn’t get his pecker to wake up. He had three free lap dances and an invitation to a private room for his birthday and all it did was sleep. The girls started calling him Floppy.”

“Ahh. That would do it.”

A tinny voice answered on the other end. Walker asked for Jennifer Costello. After another wait, he heard her voice.

“This is Jen.”

“Hi Jen, this is Ghost Four.”

“Jack? Wait—where are you calling from?”

“No names,” Laws interrupted. “This is Ghost on mission, we need SPG assist. Can you go secure on your end?”

“Give me a moment,” Jen said, efficient and official. A high-pitched whine shot across the miles, then dissipated. When she came back on the line she asked, “Is everyone safe?”

“I’m safe,” Walker said. “Jen, we need an assist.” He looked meaningfully at Laws.

“This is Ghost Two. We’re a man down and need to get access to a local computer. Can you help?”

There was silence for a moment before she answered. “Glad you’re okay, Ghost Two. Good question. What do you have in the way of equipment?”

Walker held up the device that Fratty had been carrying. There were no labels or markings. “A rectangular box with different cables connected to it. Our man would have used it, but…”

There was a moment of silence. “So sorry, Ghost Team. Listen, is there a USB and a coaxial cable?” she asked.

Following her instructions, it wasn’t long before they had a connection established through the satellite uplink.

“I’m running this through an isolated server just in case there’s a failsafe.” Two minutes later they were past the log-in screen.

Laws began to read the characters on the screen.

Holmes came over. “What’s your status?”

“Looks like there’s a captain’s log as well as a link to the navigation system.” Laws began clicking the mouse and bringing up different screens. He turned in his seat and looked around. “See a printer in here?”

Ruiz found himself standing next to a printer, an ancient dot matrix. He said as much, then turned it on.

It was soon printing one line at a time, making a sound like the world was ripping apart.

“Recovery vehicle says we have to get moving. They have aircraft inbound in ten mikes.”

“I could write faster than this printer,” Walker said, tearing off one page.

“Can we upload to your server?” Laws asked.

“We’re not set up for that,” Jen said, “But let me check.”

Holmes went into action. “Ruiz. Set the charges for seven minutes, then meet us at the bow. Laws, you’ve got exactly two minutes to get what you need out of that computer.”

Laws glared at Holmes, then shrugged. “Tell your girl thanks,” he said, standing up. He jerked out the power cord to the computer, then pulled his knife from its sheath. He jammed it into the back of the computer and pried off the side panel. After a moment of sawing and breaking, he came out with the hard drive. “Possible capture by the People’s Liberation Army is the mother of invention.”

“Save it for the inspirational poster. You all ready?”

Laws and Walker nodded.

“Do you need me anymore?” Jen asked from across the world.

The sound of her voice made Walker long for home. Given a proper evac and recovery, he’d be there soon enough. “Leave the light on,” he said.

“Wilco,” she replied. Then, “And be careful, honey.” Then she disconnected.

Laws broke into a grin from ear to ear.

“Don’t say it,” Walker growled.

“I wouldn’t dream of it … honey.”

Walker rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. But that evaporated as he noticed Holmes standing over Fratty’s body. “I’ll carry him,” Walker said, hurrying over. He flexi-cuffed Fratty’s hands and ankles together the way he’d been taught, which would make him easier to carry both in and out of the water. Then he lifted the body and arranged the weight on his left shoulder.

Holmes watched him through the whole process. Then he went to the controls and checked the speed and direction. “Okay, let’s go. Masks on.”

They donned their masks, and then the three of them moved down the stairs together, Holmes in front and Laws in back, Walker in the middle with Fratty’s limp arm around his neck. The ship was about a mile out and they could still see the lights of the police cars on the wharf. There were more than a dozen of them now. The cruise ship was off the port side of the ship and less than a thousand meters away. Drunken revelers on the deck waved and shouted to them. They were close enough to be seen and maybe even recorded. But Twitter and Facebook, in addition to all the other social networks, would be scoured by the Ladies in Blue Shoes—a name for a special unit consisting of wives of SEALs past and present, who used state-of-the-art software to wipe evidence from public Internet spaces. They loved their jobs and treated each mission as if they were storming the beach themselves.

When they reached the bow, Holmes secured a rope and dropped it over the edge. Ruiz came running over a moment later.

“Three minutes,” he said.

Holmes, who’d removed the canine harness from Fratty earlier, secured Hoover in the harness, then went over the edge. The dog had been thoroughly trained in water operations and accepted the treatment like a professional.

When they were all safely in the water, they formed a square with Fratty floating in the middle. They kick-paddled away from the boat. They weren’t frantic, but they were efficient, each knowing that if the ship went up, they needed to be a safe distance away.

Walker began to feel a strange current beneath them, as if something large, some leviathan from the deep, had come up to glimpse the night air. He could almost feel its weight as the water was relocated beneath him. And when it touched his foot, he was ready for the submarine to take them home.