Page 170 of Cry Havoc

Tom sprinted to Serrano, putting a security round in the head of the man he had killed at distance.

They both drew down on the departing longtail boat in the distance.

“Shit, no shot,” Serrano said.

Tom took a moment longer and let out a guttural roar.

Their chance at bringing home American POWs in the Soviet Union was disappearing into the night.

“Where’s our boat?” Tom asked.

“That was it,” Serrano said.

They both turned to the left. A longtail taxi was tied off against the other side of the pier. A longtail boat driver in a ragged tunic and dirty ripped shirt was staring at them, an unlit cigarette dangled from his lower lip.

No words were necessary.

He raised his hands and stepped from the boat.

Serrano handed him a handful ofbhatand untied the narrow boat from a cleat on the dock before jumping in.

“I hope being a SEAL means you can drive one of these things.”

Tom reached down and opened the fuel valve, hit the battery switch, and turned the key, bringing the engine to life.

“Used one for an op in the Mekong Delta a few years back. Hang on.”

Tom positioned himself on the left side of the long handle attached to the engine and pushed the throttle lever forward.

The boat shot away from the pier, leaving Bangkok’s Grande Dame behind them.

CHAPTER 62

LONGTAIL BOATS WERE MOREcanoe than boat in Tom’s way of thinking. If he had not trained up for a mission in the Mekong using the unstable boats, there is no way he could have piloted it.

The boat was not steered using a traditional tiller and rudder. Rather, rotating the engine on a mount adjusted the pitch of the long driveshaft and propeller, which thereby regulated the angle of its thrust to change directions. Thrust vectoring, along with the movement of the boat, combined with the torque of the heavy engine and long propeller shaft, made the long, narrow boat naturally want to spin. It had taken Tom and his fellow SEALs weeks of practice in the Mekong in front of their base of operations, where more than a few of them capsized, to get comfortable piloting the unique craft. Helming was a delicate dance that required strength, balance, and finesse.

“Stay down in the front!” Tom yelled to Serrano over the growl of the engine as they sped over the water, passing longtail boats, larger ferries, floating markets, and kitchens illuminated by strands of bulbs resembling Christmas lights. Tom felt the wind and spray in his face as he pushed the boat to its limit.

Where would they go?

They are not as skilled as you are in the longtail. That means they are going to want to get off the water.

Find them before they do.

Tom saw a longtail boat ahead turn down a canal off the main river.

There!

He passed Serrano the MPL sub gun and increased his speed.

“Plan?” Serrano yelled back.

“Still making it up!” Tom responded, narrowly missing a longtail boat coming from the opposite direction. Right-of-way rules and passing port side to port side on Bangkok’s waterways was obviously optional.

“If you get a shot, take him out!” Tom yelled.

Tom cut left into the adjoining canal in pursuit, almost capsizing when they cut across the wake of a larger boat packed with passengers.