Warshot (The Hunter Killer Series Book 6) Don Keith (red seas under red skies TXT) 📖

Li paused, seemingly looking for the right words. When she spoke again, she was pointedly deliberate.

“We’ve seen threats and bluster and even shots fired plenty of times before. But we’ve never been this close to open conflict between the world’s top two superpowers. Plus, there are others—North Korea, Russia, Iran, and more terrorist organizations than you can imagine—just waiting to take advantage and rush in and fill the vacuum if this all escalates to full-scale war. Especially if it gets nuclear, which is a real possibility if some have their way. The gold. That’s driving a lot of it this time. But this pot has been simmering for a long, long time, and it’s finally about to boil over. Despite the monstrous potential events that could occur, subtle delivery of data, the nature of any armed response, and other aspects will be crucial in containing this whole thing. Your dad has the ears of the Joint Chiefs and they go directly to the president. You have a unique understanding of warfare and what the data from the field really means. We trust our people in the most important places in China and Taiwan. We trust TJ Dillon. We trust you. We trust your dad and anyone he trusts, and that obviously includes you. We don’t trust much of anybody else. We know each of you will do the right and best thing to make this all a back-page story in USA Today. Not the end of the world as we know it. Even if there is several trillion dollars' worth of gold down there in that trench.”

She sat back, as if exhausted. He looked at her for a long moment.

“Okay,” Ward finally responded. “I hope I can justify that faith.”

“You get healed up and read and take note of everything that you pass to your father. Don’t hesitate to state your opinion or thoughts. TJ Dillon and I will do all the work while you lie here and relax and grow back together. We may well need to call on your other considerable and unique skills before this is all over.”

Ward studied the big slice of chocolate cheesecake on his dinner tray.

“Something tells me you’re not going to share any details on that part at this point,” he told her.

“Hell, Frog Man, I don’t even know yet how that’s going to play out!” She smiled. The last of the day’s sun streaming through the hotel window seemed dim in comparison. “And speaking of work, we’re off to Beijing to be sure we benefit from Soo Be Xian’s imminent fall from grace.”

“Beijing?”

“Don’t enjoy too much of that cheesecake, tough guy. You may need your wind before all this becomes nothing more than a thick classified file in a triple-locked cabinet drawer somewhere.”

Ψ

Colonel Stanton Readly sat in a jump-seat in the back of the lead Osprey aircraft, call sign Mike Hotel One, and scanned the dark compartment. Twenty of his Marines were crammed into it. In the dim light, he could not see their eyes, but he knew they were nervous. Nervous but ready. Trained, briefed, and willing to do whatever was necessary to successfully complete their assigned mission.

Sergeant Major Fernando Ramirez, the battalion’s senior enlisted Marine, saw the colonel sizing up his guys and gave him a thumbs-up. Ramirez was a grizzled, combat-hardened Leatherneck. He knew the team was ready to rock and roll. They would do their best or die trying.

Readly looked through the small porthole in the starboard side access door. He could just make out the second Osprey, dubbed Mike Hotel Two. It was flying a hundred feet astern of his own aircraft with twenty-two more shooters aboard. Somewhere out there—somewhere below and behind them where he was unable to see—and if all went according to plan, there were two CH-53K “King Stallion” helicopters. They were Mike Hotel Three and Four and would be following them to their destination. However, they were mostly empty, carrying only a few passengers, a couple of corpsmen, just in case someone needed immediate medical care, and a pair of shooters, there to provide security. Their task would be to carry passengers out, once they were freed.

Readly ran through each step of the plan in his mind for the ten-thousandth time. But he knew only too well that so many things could and likely would alter the scheme on the fly. The Ospreys would split up, then simultaneously land and launch their teams on their respective attacks. One would hit the little island’s public pier where the Deep Ocean Explorer was docked. The other would head to the courthouse and city jail, where they expected to find and safely extract the hostages. Or what the Tongans called “criminal prisoners.” The intention was to strike fast, employing overwhelming force, to minimize casualties. The team at the exploration vessel was to board her, take out any guards, and guide the ship safely out of port. Meanwhile, the King Stallion choppers were to swoop in to transport the hostages off the island and back to Pago Pago.

Good plan. What might really happen was anybody’s guess. But surprise and quickness were their primary advantages. That and what they expected to be a small, ill-equipped, and poorly trained group of defenders.

The colonel opened his laptop computer and made a final check of the latest intel updates. The plane’s NOTM system (Network on the Move) gave him an onboard Wi-Fi that connected by SATCOM directly back to the Portland. That meant he had access to the latest updates right up to the second he stepped off the aircraft. Thankfully, there were no last-second changes so far.

“Colonel, ten minutes out.” The pilot’s voice crackled in his earbuds. The Wi-Fi also connected the plane’s crew communication system seamlessly to his intra-squad combat radio’s throat mike and earbuds. The pilot added, “Dropping down to the deck.”

The two Ospreys zoomed down to just above the surface of the sea. Readly could