Hot Zone (12 page)

"Oh boy." He said and walked over to the Black Hawk.

For a moment Jordan and Ice stood quietly, to Jordan the uncomfortable silence took her back to those teenage days of the hot guy who always made her speechless. Ice, on the other hand still harbored thoughts of what had taken Shooter earlier that day and imagined what it might feel like if something like that was to happen to Jordan.

There was no doubt the two had certain feelings for each other, but there, at that moment, there were more pressing matters at hand.

"That beacon is our safety net if something happens out there, whatever you do don't take it off," He said.

"I won't." Then Jordan asked: "How long do we have down there, Ice."

"We want to get in and out in two hours, longer than that and we're asking for trouble. Will that be enough for you to do your thing?"

"I should be able to get a good look at whatever it is, won't be able to do much digging around though."

"If we find anything worth digging into this will become bigger than us and it will be out of our hands."

Jordan bounced on her toes, "Shall we?" She said pointing towards the Black Hawk as its rotors began whirring slowly.

16

Grosjean saw them first. A black dot hovering above the water in the distance as his team skipped across the calm pacific in three zodiacs. Through the binoculars he could see the American Black Hawk not more then fifteen feet above the surface.

Now was time to make a decision.

The French would be at a disadvantage with the chopper being above them. It would have no difficulty firing on them at will. He called out for the boats to come to a stop. He prayed that they were far enough away that the Americans wouldn't pick up on them. Then they would be able to attack the divers shortly after they disappeared below the surface.

Adrenaline began surging through Grosjean's veins.

This rush was not one he got often. The south pacific was not exactly the center of guerrilla warfare and most of the action Grosjean had seen were those irritating Greenpeace people who continuously ignored the exclusion zone and constantly protested, often slowing down the Legion's affairs.

He ordered all men to arm their weapons but also be prepared to throw on their dive equipment and radio sets fast in case the Black Hawk advanced towards them and they were forced to dive quickly.

He saw the first figure leap out from the side of the Black Hawk, fins first, disappearing into the ocean with a large burst of water. A brief moment passed before the next figure entered the water. Grosjean's hopes began to build.

The Americans had not seen them.

* * *

Jordan stood on the edge of the Black Hawk's side rail with her dive gear on. Below her Roo and Ice had just sunk below the surface, she could still see the figures swimming; one of them had turned on an A-12 which caused a white jet stream of water where Jordan guessed she was going to land. Ghost came up next to her.

"I'll jump with you. Are you ready."

Jordan took a deep breath: "Uh-uh."

Together they leaped off the Black Hawk and plunged into the warm waters below. Skip and Storm were still gathering their equipment and putting their tanks on when the pilot turned to them.

"Gentlemen. We have company. One mile to our south, three boats."

"Turn us around." Skip said

The pilot obliged, spinning the Black Hawk so the side door faced their company. Immediately Skip and Storm began stripping themselves free of their dive equipment. The pilot turned back to them again and asked: "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing...yet. Just hover like we haven't seen them." And then in his radio Storm said: "Ice, we got company south side, one mile, three unknown boats inbound. What are your orders?"

There was silence for a moment.

"Ice, you copy."

"Copy your sit, what's your status?"

"Stripped and ready." Skip said.

"Go see if you can scare them away, we have to get diving so Jordan can work her magic, over."

"Over." Skip leaned into the pilot’s ear: "Charge them but don't fire, we wanna try scare them away."

"Roger."

With a soft touch, the pilot dipped the nose of the Black Hawk down and then powered forward towards Grosjean and his team. Skip and Storm armed their weapons, fully prepared to use them if necessary.

"Frogs ya think, mate?" Storm asked Skip.

"Frogs." Skip agreed.

* * *

It didn't take Grosjean and his team long to figure out they had been seen. With the Black Hawk heading straight for them at great speed, Grosjean had to make a decision.

"Jean-Paul, Claude, Yanick and I are going to dive. Marcus, you and Beau take your zodiacs, split up and whoever they follow heads back to Mururoa, now go, go!"

The men fell back into the water and as instructed Beau and Marcus kicked their one hundred and fifty horsepower Evinrude engines into high gear and separated, Beau going south-west, Marcus due-east. They left behind the third zodiac.

Beneath the surface Grosjean and his three companions sank to a depth of thirty feet before beginning the mile long swim to where the Americans would be. He wasn't sure what he would do if he found them now. The men had taken high-powered cross-bows with them but that was the extent of their underwater firepower.

Already the plan was going to wrong; he was two men down and counting.

* * *

In the Black Hawk, Skip and Storm watched the figures in the zodiacs plunge into the water and was surprised when the other two took off in opposite directions.

To the pilot Skip said: “Drop on that empty zodiac, I'll take the guy heading east, you guys drop onto the other one."

"Copy that." The pilot said swooping the helicopter down in towards the zodiac. Skip, ensuring he had his M-15 and sig sauer on him, launched himself out of the Black Hawk and landed with a thud into the zodiac. He started the engine and gave it everything it had as he headed east in pursuit of Marcus.

This was the rush Skip lived for. It was in his blood. His father had been in the S.A.S and had brought Skip up on a steady diet of war stories and the cool weapons he always got to use. For as long as Skip could remember he dreamed of being a S.A.S soldier; a warrior.

Skip joined the Australian Army straight out of high school and served much of his time driving tanks and instructing hand-to-hand combat. He had spent the better part of his youth studying many forms of martial arts and boxing and was by far the best fighter the Army and S.A.S had. After his three years of service he went through the S.A.S regiments grueling training program where he finished top in his class.

He had been in the S.A.S for a three years when he was selected to participate in a joint U.S. Navy SEAL-S.A.S training school which would eventually form a new anti-terrorist unit that could be dispatched to anywhere in the world on a moments notice.

That notice had just been served.

Skip pushed the outboard engine on the zodiac to its absolute max, giving it everything it had to catch the boat up ahead of him. He was about a hundred yards away and gaining slowly.

Then the chase turned into a fire fight.

Skip felt the air erupt around him as bullets whizzed past his ears. He was being fired upon by the man up ahead. He had turned his head for a second to check the engine when the firing started. In retaliation, Skip pulled out his M-15 and let loose with a hail of gunfire. The man in the boat ducked and weaved the zodiac skillfully through puffs of exploding water then returned fire.

"C'mon you bastard, you want some?" Skip yelled above the whining of engines and gunfire.

Skip loaded the grenade launcher that was mounted on his M-15 and said a prayer to the heavens before firing.

* * *

Marcus never knew what hit him. One minute he was skipping across the water dodging bullets, the next he was ten feet in the air and falling into the ocean and suddenly the roar of gunfire was replaced with a serene silence. The grenade had hit the engine, designed to explode on contact, it launched the rear of Marcus's zodiac high into the air. His weapons and dive equipment splashed into the water around him, sinking like lead weights.

Marcus fumbled around underwater trying to pull his K-bar fighting knife out of the holder which was strapped to his ankle, and then he waited patiently, holding his breath and watching the brilliant white jet stream of the zodiac's engine and it's black hull heading towards him.

* * *

Skip saw the man fall into the water after his boat was sent flying by his grenade; but he never saw him come up.

He slowed the zodiac as he approached. He focused hard on the waters around him, which were now smudged by the gasoline from the other zodiac's gas tank. He brought his zodiac to a stop, kicking its engine in reverse to retard his forward momentum. Skip stood up and scanned the surrounding waters, his sig-sauer extended and cocked.

* * *

Marcus, suspended six feet underwater, watched on as the hull of the zodiac moved directly over him and came to a stop. His breath was growing increasingly short and his original idea of holding it long enough for the American to believe he had drowned was not going to work. With the air gone he had one choice. He kicked hard up towards the hull and with everything he had and plunged the knife into the right side of the zodiac, at the same time knocking the right side of the boat off the water’s surface. Seconds later he heard the splash of the American hitting the water.

17

In the Black Hawk, Storm clipped himself into the sniper restraint imbedded into the ceiling of the main cabin. He didn't want to fall out of the chopper if it needed to bank quickly.

The pilot took it down low and fast in pursuit of the second zodiac, which itself was moving at great speed. The zodiac had a good jump on the chopper and was heading straight for Mururoa. Already in the exclusion zone, Storm was risking a serious international incident by pursuing and he knew it, as did the pilot who slowed down and turned to Storm: "You sure about this Sir? There's no going back once we cross this line."

Storm knew the pilot was right. The whole point had been to scare them off and that was working. "Turn it ar--"

Suddenly bullets ricocheted around the cabin. They were coming under fire from the man in the zodiac.

"Taking fire, taking fire." The pilot yelled.

"You've gotta be kidding me, he's fucking crazy. That's it mate, run him down and take him out."

"Roger." The pilot said as he kicked the Black Hawk into high gear. He fired the duel cannons lighting up the ocean surface like the fountain display at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas.

Then the world was turned upside down.

There was an incredible explosion above the Black Hawk, knocking the rotors clear off the main capsule, sending it spiraling into the water. Storm, fighting to unhook himself from the sniper restraint was thrown from side to side as he yelled to the pilot for their status. When he did not answer Storm already knew what had happened. On his next time across the cabin he caught a glimpse into the cockpit and saw the pilot slumped in his seat, the windshield shattered and the world outside spinning out of the control.