Rogue Elements. Don PendletonЧитать онлайн книгу.
Salalah. “I would have just fragged him.” Bolan grabbed a fresh beer. “You don’t give assholes like that a chance.”
Big Abe smiled with childlike delight.
Sifuentes’s morale resurged through the ceiling. “Fuckin’ ay, Bubba! I love this guy!”
Bolan lay in his bunk reading files the Bear had sent him. Hyronemous “Hyram” Yard was a bad dude. He had taken the unusual route of joining the United States Marine Corps, reaching the rank of sergeant in Force Recon, not re-upping, and then enlisting in the Navy and becoming a Navy SEAL. He had the almost unheard-of distinction of having fought on two different continents in two different branches of the United States military. He had failed the Navy SEAL Officers Course, finished his stint and gone into private security.
Bolan looked up at a knock on his door. “Open.”
Ibarra peeked in. She was wearing a T-shirt and her camouflage bikini bottoms. “Blue?”
Bolan looked over at Sifuentes. “Sifu?”
“Yeah?”
“Get out.”
“Right!” Sifuentes grabbed his tablet and scrammed.
Ibarra closed and locked the door behind him and immediately spooned into Bolan’s side. She smelled nice. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“I get the idea.”
“You do?”
Bolan threw a blanket over the two of them. “You don’t want to be alone on this ship, much less alone in your room, when Hyram Yard is aboard.”
Ibarra snuggled closer. “You are a surprisingly sensitive man, Blue.”
“I can be. What happened with Hyram and Big Abe?”
“You can imagine. Hyram shows up and fires everybody. Those he didn’t fire he treated like dog dirt. Big Abe wasn’t having it. They had it out, publically. Big Abe is a brawler. Hyram is a fighter. He went all MMA. Beat Abe bad and bloody. Then he made him submit, and then he choked him out for good measure. Made an example out of him.”
“What a dick.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t go up on the helideck with him.”
“Me, too. It’s nicer in here.”
“Hmm.”
Ibarra threw a leg over and sat on Bolan’s stomach. “So what do you say about making it even nicer in here?”
Bolan laced his fingers behind his head and admired the view. “I’d say I’m up for that.”
Ibarra pulled off her T-shirt and leaned over to turn off the light.
A fist hammered the door. Bolan knew the answer but asked anyway. “Who is it?”
“Blue!” Yard called out. “You and me need a minute!”
Bolan sighed.
“Maybe Sifu ran off his mouth. I tried to be sneaky,” Ibarra told him.
“I know.” Bolan rolled out of bed. “Just a minute!” He made sure his dagger and grenade were a lunge away in either direction. The soldier opened the door and found Yard filling the frame.
“Hey, Hy. What’s up?”
“It’s your first assignment tomorrow, Blue. I want to get a few things straight. You...” His words trailed off as he looked at Bolan’s bunk.
The soldier looked back.
Ibarra was naked and lighting a cigarette.
Yard’s shoulders sagged slightly. “Prick.”
“Yeah.” Bolan nodded. “Not the first time I’ve been called that.”
“I’ll bet.”
“So, we going up to the helideck?”
Yard actually laughed. “No, no need for that. Not just yet.”
Bolan locked gazes with the man. “She’s mine. Until she says different.”
“You may not believe this, but I have never boned a coworker, much less a fellow soldier.”
“I believe you.”
“Well, that means a lot.”
“So can you get lost?” Bolan looked back at Ibarra.
Yard raised his hands and walked down the steel hallway. “Can do.”
Bolan closed and locked the door.
Ibarra sighed. “I think you’re winning his respect.”
“No, I made him wary. Right now he is trying to figure out his next line of leverage.”
Ibarra wrinkled her nose. “Which is me?”
“No.”
“So what am I?”
“Mine. Unless and until you say different.”
Ibarra’s smile lit up the cabin.
Bolan shrugged. “And I’ll defend your honor, regardless.”
“One condition.”
“Name it.”
“Turn off the light. It makes me uncomfortable.”
Bolan turned off the light.
The bulk carrier Caprice
The helicopter dipped toward the freighter. Mendez examined the deck covered with cranes and hatches. “Hey, Hy! There’s no helideck!”
“You’re real observant, Sifu!” Yard shouted back from the copilot’s seat. “Try not to break your ankles!”
Bolan motioned Ibarra and Sifuentes to lean in. At the moment they were the only people he trusted. “What else is missing?”
Sifuentes gazed hard at the ship. “What?”
“No, in here.”
Ibarra gasped. “Madre de dios...”
“Keep it down,” Bolan advised.
Sifuentes looked around in confusion. “Throw a dog a bone, Blue!”
“Yo, hermano!” Ibarra grabbed Sifuentes’s collar and yanked him close so she could snarl in his ear. “We don’t have any guns! None of the stuff we were issued is on the chopper!”
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit...”
A few crewmen stood on deck and watched as the helicopter hovered over a hatch. One waved. Bolan waved back.
“All right!” Yard shouted. “Listen up! Ketch, you’re taking lead on this one. You have a seven-man team. I want three on watch and three off at any given time, one man floating. I want a report, texted, after every watch whether there is anything to report or not. There are water cannons fore and aft. Get anyone up to speed on their use who isn’t.”
Ketch was appalled. “Water cannons?”
“We’re still in the Omani territorial waters. The Caprice is going to take on a packet of cargo in Raysut. It’s less than fifty kilometers from here. You’ll be there tomorrow. The second she leaves port, she heads into international waters. You’ll have guns by noon.”
The team stared.
Yard’s eyes went cold. “There has never been a pirate attack between Salalah and Raysut. The pirates know the sultan takes that shit personally. He maintains firing squads and televises the results. You are flying the Viking Associates flag. As soon as you leave Raysut