Chapter 6 - Night on the Pacific
The Northern Pacific Ocean at 1:00 AM was a abyss of churning black water, freezing spray, and thirty-foot swells that slammed against the hull of The Iron Osprey.
The massive five-hundred-foot container vessel plowed through the stormy sea like a dark steel mountain, its deck stacked high with rusted red and blue shipping containers.
Two miles astern, invisible against the pitch-black waves, a seventy-foot stealth tactical interceptor vessel—powered by twin-turbine jet engines—sliced through the water at forty knots.
On the open deck of the stealth craft, clad in dark tactical neoprene, thermal armor, and night-vision goggles, stood Callum Pierce alongside Gabriel and six elite maritime operators.
"Ship velocity is twelve knots!" Gabriel shouted over the roaring wind and engine spray. "Radar jamming is active! They won't see us on their screens until we're on their stern!"
Callum adjusted his night-vision visor. The dark, looming shape of The Iron Osprey appeared through the green digital glow of his visor, its rear deck illuminated by two dim floodlights.
"We use the pneumatic magnetic grappling cannons!" Gabriel commanded his team. "Two men per line! Securing upper deck platform C!"
The stealth craft matched the speed of the massive container ship, pulling directly beneath the towering steel stern.
PNEU-THUMP! PNEU-THUMP!
Two heavy titanium grappling hooks, trailed by ultra-high-strength Kevlar lines, shot upward through the freezing rain, locking onto the steel railing of The Iron Osprey’s upper deck with a heavy metallic clack.
Within ten seconds, Callum and Gabriel were climbing the lines, their boots gripping the slick steel hull, ascending thirty feet above the roaring black ocean.
Callum swung himself over the steel railing, dropping silently onto the wet deck of the container ship, pulling a silenced tactical sidearm from his chest holster.
The deck was quiet, save for the thunderous groan of the ship’s heavy diesel engines below.
"Tactical team Alpha, secure the bridge," Gabriel ordered through his throat microphone. "Callum and I move to lower deck hold Number Three. That’s where the high-value cargo is stored."
They moved through the maze of towering shipping containers like shadows through a steel graveyard.
As they reached the heavy iron hatch leading down into hold Number Three, two armed mercenary guards wearing heavy rain coats stepped around a container, smoking cigarettes.
Before the guards could raise their weapons, Gabriel and Callum moved with terrifying, practiced speed.
Gabriel lunged forward, striking the first guard’s throat with a heavy tactical palm strike, disarming him mid-air. Callum stepped inside the second guard’s reach, grabbing the barrel of his rifle, twisting it violently downward, and driving a heavy tactical elbow directly into the man’s jaw.
Both guards collapsed silently onto the wet deck.
Gabriel pulled a heavy set of master keys from the unconscious guard’s belt, inserting the iron key into the hatch lock.
CLACK-CHUNK.
May you like
The heavy iron hatch swung open, revealing a dark, steep ladder leading down into the subterranean belly of the ship.
Callum didn't hesitate. He descended the ladder into the dark, cold hold below.
