Scrapyard Ship Read Online Free
the seized tanker.
It was a moonless, stormy night when four navy SEAL Zodiac rubberized crafts swept up to the besieged ship. The noise of their small but powerful outboard motors was barely audible above the sea’s surging waves. Jason and fifteen others on his team had trained this same type of maneuver hundreds of times.
Their Zodiacs were soon positioned mid-ship and aft on both sides of the tanker. At Jason’s comms signal, the team silently climbed up long collapsible ladders and was on board in less than two minutes. The Christina was completely dark. Dressed in black assault gear, each SEAL carried a standard issue Sig Sauer P226 side arm, as well as an HK MP5N submachine gun, and was equipped with night-vision goggles. For assaults such as this, they would have access to a duffle bag filled with explosive breaching charges, bolt cutters, and a sledgehammer.The four SEAL teams moved forward with their weapons raised and ready. It became immediately apparent that this was not a typical pirate ransom situation. This had been a raid. A dead body lay sprawled on the deck before Jason. Eerily seen through green-hued optics, the crewmember’s throat had been sliced from ear to ear. Blood pooled in a symmetrical circle around his head. Jason went on-comms to his team. “Stay dark and quiet everybody; team Zebra, I want you clearing the bridge—let’s see if anyone is still in charge here.”
Three more bodies, similarly killed, were found in the same proximity by his team. Right inside the forward bulkhead hatch, a woman crewmember had been bound. Trousers pulled down, she had obviously been raped prior to having her throat cut as well. Outside the hatch, Jason watched Billy, a mountain of a man and one of the toughest SEALs in the unit, walk over to the railing, throw up over the side, and then continue on to secure the ship. Jason heard noises and yelling coming from below deck. Laughing. Not English.
Jason, using hand signals, gestured for two of the assault team members to follow him down the stairs, and the other two teams to clear the top deck. The laughing became more pronounced as Jason and his team descended the stairs. A metallic clanging sound echoed off a bulkhead in the distance, followed by more laughter. More clanging, more laughter. Light poured out from an open hatchway just ahead, partially illuminating the dark hallway.
Jason signaled for his team to halt—he slung his assault rifle around to his back and used a small telescopic mirror to carefully peer inside and around the corner. He moved the mirror around, ensuring that he hadn’t missed anything. He took in the scene in mere seconds. It looked to be the ship's mess. The tanker’s captain was bound and secured to the far bulkhead; his legs and arms spread wide apart. Five Somalian pirates sat together at a large table on the far side of the room. Most of them were shirtless, their dark skins contrasted with the white florescent lights above. Machetes caked with dried blood lay strewn about the tabletop.
The obvious leader, a tall and emaciated-looking man, stood forward, closer to the bound captain, and held a woman crewmember around her neck. He held a knife up to her eye. Three of the captain’s crew had been blindfolded. They each held a three-foot long piece of pipe. Watching the events as they progressed, Jason felt bile rise in the back of his throat. In a sick and twisted form of ‘pin the tail on the donkey’ the blindfolded crewmembers could only save the woman’s life by taking shots at the captain.
From the looks of things, the captain had been hit numerous times. Blood seeped from an open gash on his forehead. His right ear was completely gone—an oozing dark red circle in its place. Terrified, the woman screamed—which produced another wave of laughter from the pirates. In Jason’s ear-comm the other two SEAL teams were reporting in. A total of seventeen more casualties had been found, four of whom were rape
It was a moonless, stormy night when four navy SEAL Zodiac rubberized crafts swept up to the besieged ship. The noise of their small but powerful outboard motors was barely audible above the sea’s surging waves. Jason and fifteen others on his team had trained this same type of maneuver hundreds of times.
Their Zodiacs were soon positioned mid-ship and aft on both sides of the tanker. At Jason’s comms signal, the team silently climbed up long collapsible ladders and was on board in less than two minutes. The Christina was completely dark. Dressed in black assault gear, each SEAL carried a standard issue Sig Sauer P226 side arm, as well as an HK MP5N submachine gun, and was equipped with night-vision goggles. For assaults such as this, they would have access to a duffle bag filled with explosive breaching charges, bolt cutters, and a sledgehammer.The four SEAL teams moved forward with their weapons raised and ready. It became immediately apparent that this was not a typical pirate ransom situation. This had been a raid. A dead body lay sprawled on the deck before Jason. Eerily seen through green-hued optics, the crewmember’s throat had been sliced from ear to ear. Blood pooled in a symmetrical circle around his head. Jason went on-comms to his team. “Stay dark and quiet everybody; team Zebra, I want you clearing the bridge—let’s see if anyone is still in charge here.”
Three more bodies, similarly killed, were found in the same proximity by his team. Right inside the forward bulkhead hatch, a woman crewmember had been bound. Trousers pulled down, she had obviously been raped prior to having her throat cut as well. Outside the hatch, Jason watched Billy, a mountain of a man and one of the toughest SEALs in the unit, walk over to the railing, throw up over the side, and then continue on to secure the ship. Jason heard noises and yelling coming from below deck. Laughing. Not English.
Jason, using hand signals, gestured for two of the assault team members to follow him down the stairs, and the other two teams to clear the top deck. The laughing became more pronounced as Jason and his team descended the stairs. A metallic clanging sound echoed off a bulkhead in the distance, followed by more laughter. More clanging, more laughter. Light poured out from an open hatchway just ahead, partially illuminating the dark hallway.
Jason signaled for his team to halt—he slung his assault rifle around to his back and used a small telescopic mirror to carefully peer inside and around the corner. He moved the mirror around, ensuring that he hadn’t missed anything. He took in the scene in mere seconds. It looked to be the ship's mess. The tanker’s captain was bound and secured to the far bulkhead; his legs and arms spread wide apart. Five Somalian pirates sat together at a large table on the far side of the room. Most of them were shirtless, their dark skins contrasted with the white florescent lights above. Machetes caked with dried blood lay strewn about the tabletop.
The obvious leader, a tall and emaciated-looking man, stood forward, closer to the bound captain, and held a woman crewmember around her neck. He held a knife up to her eye. Three of the captain’s crew had been blindfolded. They each held a three-foot long piece of pipe. Watching the events as they progressed, Jason felt bile rise in the back of his throat. In a sick and twisted form of ‘pin the tail on the donkey’ the blindfolded crewmembers could only save the woman’s life by taking shots at the captain.
From the looks of things, the captain had been hit numerous times. Blood seeped from an open gash on his forehead. His right ear was completely gone—an oozing dark red circle in its place. Terrified, the woman screamed—which produced another wave of laughter from the pirates. In Jason’s ear-comm the other two SEAL teams were reporting in. A total of seventeen more casualties had been found, four of whom were rape
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