39. Sneak attack at sea

The early morning mist slowly emerges from the water, as if the bottom of the sea is really slowly burning. Looming the sea level at a speed visible to the naked eye. The sun gradually became blind, from orange to soft yellow to harsh gold.

Twenty-five nautical miles away, a white ship was approaching in this direction, the fog here was thicker, and the fog was condensed into water droplets that hung all over the window panes of the bridge, and the first mate Jack quickly turned on the wipers, and then stepped out of the bridge to the wings, staring at the vast fog.

"22 nautical miles, 0-7-1, sir, 12 knots, he should be heading in the direction of Molinha, captain." Sergeant Major Harrison reports based on radar plots. Captain Sean stood beside him, smiling at the erosion of the sea, and his short white hair was carved with the marks of time, he was 55 years old this year, which was the advanced age of service.

"In another hour, or an hour and a half, the fog will dissipate." Sean tapped out the window with his cigar-holding hand, "Let's get up now, Mr. Jack, full speed ahead, Harrison, what's the interception heading?" ”

"1-6-5, Captain." Harrison replied quickly.

Sean patted the young man on the shoulder with satisfaction, "Just drive in this direction, if the fog does not clear, we will make adjustments when the distance between us and him is shortened to two or three nautical miles, and we are directly behind him." ”

Jack gave the corresponding command through the walkie-talkie and watched Sean walk out of the wing.

"Is this man from the underworld?" Harrison asked in the back.

Sean stood still and looked back, "Why do you say that?" ”

"Sir, if I had such a big ship, I would never have failed to activate the radar when sailing in the fog, but the radar on his ship was not activated."

"I hope you're wrong, young man." Sean shook his hand.

"It's not a good errand after all, our guns are all rusty." Harrison added.

"We'll know in an hour or so, kid, how long was your last arrest?" Sean turned to look at the fog, visibility was less than 200 yards, and then he walked to the side of the radar phosphor screen covered with a shield, from the fluorescent screen, the yacht was the closest target, he thought about it, and then changed the radar from transmitting to receiving, and the intelligence services told him that many militants now have electronic scanning devices to detect radar waves.

"It's been 1 year, sir." Jack replied.

"Well, you still have us. Harrison, wait until we're close to the yacht and we're 4 or 5 nautical miles away before turning on the radar, okay? ”

"Yes, sir."

The white ship rumbled through the wind and waves, it was sailing at full speed at 23 knots, and when the turbocharger kept the air into the diesel engine, it was only 23 knots, which made the voyage a little bumpy. Jack stood on the edge of the bridge, he didn't like to move forward without the radar activated, he pricked up his ears and stopped, but he couldn't hear anything but the roar of the engine.

The fog is like a damp cloth that obscures one's view and absorbs sound.

At 7:30, the sun broke through the fog, and the speedboat broke through the waves, making a soft whirl, and Sean stood up and walked towards the radar, asking, "Are you ready?" Harrison? ”

"Ready."

Sean dialed the radar back to where it was launched, then looked down at the radar screen at the top of the shield, "Close enough, target azimuth 1-6-0, distance six thousand, Mr. Jack, right rudder 1-5-8, Harrison, we're going to lean up from the left rear." Where are the others? ”

"It's all on deck, sir." Jack returns.

"Enter the combat position." Sean turned off the radar and straightened up.

One crew member operated a 40 mm gun at the bow of the boat, another team member pulled the cover of the M-2 point 50 machine gun, which was about the same age as Captain Sean, behind the bridge, and the rest of the crew had a weapon, an M16, a shotgun, and several 9mm pistols.

"Put down the dinghy."

The fog is dissipating, the fog is becoming thick and uneven, and visibility is around 300 yards.

Two flying ropes tied with iron claws were fired by harpoons into the guardrail at the stern of the ship, and when the iron claws fell, they were picked on the guardrail, and someone pulled them below, and the iron claws were quickly fastened, and after more than ten seconds, the two people quickly climbed up along the ropes, climbed over the guardrail, each holding a whispering submachine gun in his hand, and landed on the deck to quickly launch a defensive formation.

Immediately behind, two more frogmen peeked their heads out from below, and the four of them glanced at each other, tearing off their oxygen masks, leaving only their hoods behind, revealing their shining eyes. The leader made a gesture and quickly dispersed the formation, and the first made a gesture, and they divided into two groups, one rushing along the side of the ship to the bow, and the other swooping down the gangway to the bilge.

"Harrison, 0-7-0 bearing remains the same, target course and speed remain the same." Sean turned back to tell his men, and then felt in his pockets, his beloved pipe had been disarmed by his wife, and he really wanted to get a bucket.

"Sir, I have cigarettes here, do you need them?" Harrison saw the old captain groping in his pocket, took out a pack of 'camel' cards from his pocket and tossed it in his hand.

A large hole appeared in his forehead, and the whole person fell on the radar, blood staining the rubber shield.

Sean yelled, "There's an enemy. But before he could draw his gun, two bullets went into the heart almost simultaneously.

When the first mate Jack heard the exclamation, he pounced forward without looking back, and grabbed the Klock pistol on the bridge, he may not have been slow to react, but he was still pierced by the bullet, and after a few convulsions, he did not move.

The team that operated the 40 guns was also killed.

Behind the bridge, the team member who operated the machine gun walked out of the bathroom, his energetic face was a little immature, this was his first time on a mission at sea, he was a little nervous when he was in battle, and when he walked out, he happened to face the muzzle of a black hole.

In the bilge, four team members were cleaning up, each of whom had been shot in the forehead and chest.

Too fast to give anyone a chance to fight back.

The four frogmen assembled in the front cabin, and the leader took off his mask, revealing the face of the Mexican beard, his eyes were gray, it was a cold look to the bone, he raised his hand, made a circle, and issued orders in blunt language.

"Give you five minutes to clean up, and in five minutes, I want the boat to come to life and throw all the carcasses into the sea to feed the sharks."

The other three answered the order in a straight position, then dispersed and began to move.

The bearded man pulled out the satellite phone from his backpack, dialed a number, and when the call was connected, he leaned close to his ear.

"Cleaned up."

A few nautical miles away.

The sun rises over the Caribbean coast and slowly jumps over the horizon, and the sparkling sea is as calm as a mirror. Although the scenery is picturesque, this place is not as comfortable as it seems, the high-pressure air currents continue to linger, affecting the humidity here, the sky is low, and the unusually hazy sky shows the arrival of another sultry day, and the wooded mountains to the west block the wind, making it weak and damp on people.

The owner of the "Earth" did not care about this, the sea was not hot and humid from the land, it was extremely cool, and the breeze was blowing, and at the moment he was lying on the deck chair and falling asleep, as if he had been exhausted from the work of the yacht at sea.

His new girlfriend was lying next to him at the moment, face down on a towel. This allows the back to get even sunlight.

At the bow of the boat stood two tall men, both wearing large shorts and yellow T-shirts printed with palm olive trees, one fat and one thin, the fat man still had Mexican sideburns, his black and thick hair was curly, his exposed dark muscles were knotted, his muscles were powerful, and his face wearing large sunglasses could not be seen clearly. Both of them were armed with weapons, the thin man had an M16 in his hand, and the fat man had his hands clasped to the railing, and a Beletta pistol stuck in his trouser belt.

The man of the 'Dadi' let go of the satellite phone in his hand and patted the woman lying on the blanket next to him, "Little baby, come, come to my arms." ”

The woman woke up slowly, turned sideways, her young and charming face was full of charm, and squinted at the man in front of her, "Honey, what about Victor?" Why are these two bodyguards left? ”

"Oh, Victor, they're going to fish, and they'll be right back." The man opens his hairy heart. The two bodyguards obediently turned their heads and stared at the unpredictable sea.

The satellite phone rang again at an inopportune time, and the man let go of the woman and picked up the phone and leaned close to her ear, her face quickly changed several times, "Where's Smith?" ”

Then he hummed, hung up the phone, turned his head and ordered the bodyguards.

"Inform the first mate, and sail back as soon as Victor returns."