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CHAPTER ONE
Bullets sparked like fireworks against the metal container ship above Colin Cole’s head. Rough waters churned as Delta team waited on the edge of the tactical raft, listening for the signal to drop into the Indian Ocean’s choppy black depths.
Adrenaline pumped. There was no telling how many men waited on the well-guarded cargo ship.
“Delta team, you have a green light to go.”
Even with the wetsuit, the frozen water wrapped around Colin at once, and he kicked forward, breathing into his mouthpiece. Again, the flash of machine gun fire sparked against the cargo ship.
“Get eyes on the target,” an unfamiliar voice from the partnering SEAL team crackled in Colin’s earpiece. “Neutralize all targets.”
Firepower sprayed. Cold water splashed as Colin kept pace as the cargoship picked up speed as it left port.
“Delta’s in place,” Brock reported while Colin swam toward the breach point with his teammates as bullets rained, pelting too close. They sliced into the water, unseen except for sparks and pings against the carrier’s metal hull. “Eliminate the threat, or my team pulls back.”
Ping. Ping.
The well-aimed shots had been unlucky. Their shooters had the equipmentand the know-how to guard the cargo liner against a stealth assault.
Second by second, gunfire slowed and stopped. The salty water crashed in heavier waves from the cargo liner.
“Threat neutralized,” whispered in Colin’s earpiece.
“Delta, you’re a go,” Brock commanded.
Colin unharnessed his MP7 sub-machine gun with the rope and claw-end, double-checked the line was still attached to the carabineron his utility belt, and angled back.
“Make it easy on me,” he muttered and released the trigger. His rappelling line flew through the chilly night, chasing the cargo liner until its sharp, clawed hooks snagged and jerked his torso. “Not easy.”
Colin pulled himself hand over hand until his feet found purchase along the side. The waves beat him as he fought to scale the cargo liner. His armsburned from fatigue, and he powered up the wet rope, lifting out of the cutting water. A quick glance to the side confirmed his team was on the move too.
One, two, three... Colin continued to count off the team hauling ass up the side of the vessel like they were sprinting up Mt. Everest: Luke, Trace, Javier, Grayson, and Ryder.
“All right.” All there. Colin yanked higher. Hand over hand, hewalked up the side of the hull.
“Team two, you’re a go. Breach, breach.”
Delta team knew nothing about the second team, except—possibly—for Brock. This job had come from a confidential informant on short notice, and Titan Group pulled a special team out of nowhere to help. Delta would likely never see them again.
Colin pulled himself over the rails, crouching and searching the perimeter. Thecargo liner was longer than three football fields, a significant reason why they needed backup. “On board, all accounted for.”
“Team two breaching.”
Their plans were simple. Delta would take command while the second team, whose commanding officer referred to as assholes once or twice, provided defensive coverage as needed.
But that was only to secure the ship. The real work would start afterthey took control of the vessel, but neither team had been told what that would be, despite their top-secret operational clearances.
“Team two on board and covering your asses, Delta.”
“Roger that.” Colin raised a fist as a signal to hold and watched for his team to find him.
“You’ve got a green light,” Brock said.
Colin dropped his fist and gave the move-out motion. Delta climbed from theship’s outer plating. Colin forced himself from the last one up to the first one forward, moving to assess the deck-side threats before his teammates could stare down the barrel of an assault rifle. Clear as far as he could see—nothing but cargo containers stacked end upon end. “Delta, we’re clear.”
They stayed low, switching their water gear for close-quarter weapons. Colin signaled to movefor the bridge deck.
The ship was eerily perfect, nothing out of place.Too clean, too quiet.