Almost as an afterthought, Control added, “The pirates have made a one-hundred-million-dollar demand for the senator’s safe return.”

  “Listen up, everyone, this is Tiger,” I said. “Drop down to a thousand meters. Watch the wind!”

  “Tiger, this is Control. We just established contact with a Platypus crew member sequestered in the ship’s forward chain locker. We described your wingsuits. He says you can land on each bridge wing and on the main deck just aft of the bow. He says the pirates are technically ignorant. A crew member had to sail and dock the ship for them. They have four men on board, one at the brow leading down to the dock, one in the Bridge, and two roaming guards. There’s a fifth pirate roaming the dock.”

  “This is Tiger,” I said. “Rog, make your assignments.”

  “This is Rog. Slade, take the starboard bridge wing—on your left as we fly in. Take out any bad guys in the bridge. I’ll take the port and eliminate the brow guard. Cappy, land on the bow main deck, find those roaming guards and take them out. Pete, land on the dock near the bow. Take out the roving patrol, slice the mooring hawsers with your weapon, and get airborne ASAP. Any questions?”

  He got three Hooyahs!

  At a thousand meters, the wind was still a factor, but it seemed to be a steady blow from the ocean to the northeast, carrying a lot of rain. That was good for us—made us more difficult to spot, while we had Mother and our heads-up displays to guide us.

  Rog and his guys dropped to 300 meters, setting up for the attack.

  “On my six, Jerico!” I ordered as I vectored southeast and increased my descent rate as much as possible. Mother superimposed the terrain on my heads-up. The reservoir lay six klicks ahead, and beside it, between reservoir and extraction point, Senator Manfred’s Link beacon flashed on my display.

  Figure 21—Rog and his team head to free CS Platypus. Tiger and Jerico

  on their way to rescue Senator Manfred.

  MAYOTTE ISLAND—CS PLATYPUS

  While Jerico and I were occupied inland, Rog and his team dropped straight down through the rain to one hundred meters above the calm lagoon waters. They flew over the Platypus, dropped to fifty meters, and made a bow-on approach. The dock was brilliantly lit. Pete dropped stealthily to the bright dock, grabbed his silent energy pulse weapon as he left his Gryphon, and took out the three nearest lights and the roving guard who was half-way between the bow and brow, walking away from Pete. The guard never knew what hit him. Rog landed on the port bridge wing, stepped out of his Gryphon with his weapon, and silently took out the guard at the brow three decks below him, and then he took out the two nearest dock lights. Simultaneously, Slade dropped to the starboard bridge wing, shed his Gryphon, and took out the unsuspecting bridge guard who had just turned to see what was happening on the port bridge wing. While this was happening, Pete ran along the dock burning through each hawser with a quick weapon burst. When he reached the last mooring, a bullet whizzed past his head. He turned, shot the pirate who had appeared on the road at the middle of the dock, and then he shot out the remaining dock light.

  The prevailing wind had already pushed the Platypus away from the dock. Rog started the stern thruster and revved the main engines to full power. He threw the rudder hard right and willed the stern not to hit the dock.

  Rog picked up the general announcing mike and said, “This is Lt. Roger Brook, U.S. Navy SEALS Winged Insertion Command. We have taken over this ship and eliminated most of the pirates. We are getting underway for Antsiranana, Madagascar. Please remain in your staterooms with your doors locked until I give you an All Clear.”

  Pete ran back toward his Gryphon, dodging several bullets as he ran. He returned fire at two of the flashpoints, without knowing if he got the shooters or not, and then he mounted his wingsuit and rocketed up into the driving rain.

  Mother outlined Platypus in Pete’s heads-up and then announced, “Incoming!” Before Pete had a chance to react, his rear-facing pulse weapon destroyed the incoming shoulder-fired missile. Pete raced over the north end of Longoni harbor to meet Platypus a kilometer into the broad lagoon. He came around to her bow, intending to land where Cappy had touched down earlier.

  Still fifty meters out, as he dropped lower to land, a bright flash from below the bridge at the rear of the deck announced another missile launch. Before Pete had time to react, Mother aimed and fired his forward weapon, destroying the missile just three meters before impact. Cappy came out of the shadows and fired at the launch point of the missile. A pirate with a smoking hole in his chest fell forward out of the shadow.

  Still twenty meters from the bow, Pete’s rocket coughed and stopped, out of fuel. He set his wings for maximum glide, lifted his nose, and missing the bow by centimeters, landed softly on the darkened deck.

  Figure 22—Mayotte Island with Port of Longoni and Doujani Reservoir

  Suddenly, a shot rang out from the starboard side of the ship, hitting Cappy’s right shoulder, spinning him around as he fell. Pete rolled out of his Gryphon while drawing his weapon and fired at the flashpoint just as Slade on the bridge wing above did the same. A loud scream filled the darkness as the last pirate stumbled out onto the main forward deck, left arm completely missing and his right shoulder mangled beyond recognition. When he saw the two SEALS, he shook his head in total disbelief and threw himself over the rail into the dark lagoon waters.

  MAYOTTE ISLAND—DOUJANI RESERVOIR

  It took about twenty minutes to get to Doujani Reservoir, using most of our remaining fuel. We landed silently in a narrow clearing about 250 meters to the northwest of and fifty meters above the reservoir. We exited the Gryphons, holstered our weapons, and discarded our helmets. My Link showed that Senator Manfred was down the slope in a clump of trees about twenty meters from the water’s edge.

  Wearing night-vision glasses, and getting soaked by the rain, Jerico and I crept to the edge of the slope. Mother was hooked into our Links. She superimposed the senator’s exact position over our night vision view. I activated my infra-red sensor. Down by the water, four heat sources clumped together, and another was a couple of meters to the side. I slowly scanned a full circle around me. Other than a couple of obvious night critters, I saw nothing else.

  I placed a finger to my lips and signaled Jerico to circle around to the left. I indicated I would circle right. I pointed to him, held up two fingers, and then slashed across my throat. I pointed at myself and indicated the same. He nodded.

  I crept down the slope to my right, any sound I made muffled by the rain. Although I couldn’t see Jerico, I knew he was doing the same to the left. We both reached the clump of trees with the Pirates and Manfred about five minutes later. We drew our weapons and aimed. Four energy bolts silently removed the heads of the hapless pirates. Senator Manfred’s eyes got big as platters, but to his credit, he didn’t utter a sound.

  I stepped in front of the senator and whispered quietly, “Navy SEALS. Are there any other bad guys?”

  He swallowed and shook his head, his eyes large with fright. I saw him make a conscious effort to quell his shaking hands. I gestured him to follow us. He did so silently, clearly aware of what was at stake. When we got to the clearing, I signaled Control.

  “We have the senator. Ready to receive the Fulton system.”

  “Tiger, this is Randy Dorsey. I’m in a Herc a thousand meters overhead with several members of your SWIC team—Benny, Piggy, and Cowboy—and a Fulton ready for a guided paradrop. I see your marker, but we are dealing with significant winds aloft. Your guys will remotely guide the Fulton down to the two-hundred-meter level. Then you take over. It has IR markers so you can see it with your night vision.”

  “I got it, Randy. Let her fly!”

  Mother gave me a clear view in my glasses. The Fulton kept drifting to the west, but my SWIC team members in the Herc kept pulling it back overhead. At 200 meters, I took over, and as it got lower, the winds lessened. At seventy-five meters, I started to make out the four IR beacons, one at each corner. I eased the Fulton in and set it down just two meters from where we crouched.

  I glanced over at the Senator. He seemed to have gotten his emotions under control. I knew from news reports that he was a man used to being in control. This had to be entirely outside his experience. “How are you holding up, Senator?” I asked.

  He responded with a slight grin and shrugged shoulders. “This is way outside my MOS,” he said quietly.

  I lifted my eyebrows at his response. “Army Ranger,” he said and gave me his old unit.

  “Hooyah!” I responded as we exchanged high-fives.

  “Any news on my family?” he asked.

  “My guys took the ship,” I told him. “they should be safe.”

  Jerico removed the fuel bladders from the pallet, and then set up the Fulton while I explained the next steps to the senator. Jerico handed him a harness. I showed him how to put it on.

  “Jerico is inflating a helium balloon with a strong bungee line attached. We will attach the bungee line to your harness, and then you will stand facing that way.” I pointed into the wind. “Jerico will let the balloon rise to two-hundred meters. Randy will fly a line of position in his C-130 at near stall speed toward the balloon and will snag the line with a yoke installed on his nose. You will go flying into the air where crew members will hook your line, and you will be reeled into the cargo hatch.” I grinned at him. “It’s like a super exciting amusement park ride.”

  He looked at me with a bit of a lopsided grin. “I’ve done a lot of things,” he said, “but this will be a first.” We exchanged another high-five.

  We walked to where Jerico had rigged the blimp-shaped balloon.

  “It’s on its way to two hundred meters,” Jerico said. “Let’s get you hooked up.” He securely attached the senator’s harness to the bungee cord with two stainless carabiners. “You ready?” Jerico asked.

  “I am.” I could see his jaw set tightly.

  “Gimme five!” Jerico held up his gloved hand.

  DOUJANI RESERVOIR SNAG

  Inotified Dorsey that we were ready.

  “Expect me in ten or less,” Dorsey answered.

  Seven minutes later, Senator Jack Manfred, former Army Ranger, ex-hostage, probable future U.S. President, whisked silently into the dark, rainy sky.

  While we were waiting, Jerico had fueled our Gryphons. We donned our helmets, climbed into our wingsuits, and rocketed into the wet darkness.

  “We’re airborne, Randy. How’s your passenger?”

  “He’s on board, none the worse for wear, and he expresses his thanks. Oh…and he talked with his wife. His family’s safe.”

  “Tell him he can thank us in person in a few minutes,” I said. “You got us on radar.”

  “’Sa fact,” Dorsey said. “I’m doin’ one-hundred-fifty, three hundred meters ahead of you.”

  Figure 23—The Fulton ground-to-air extraction system

  “We’re coming tandem,” I said. “Jerico first. I’ll be ten meters behind and ten below.”

  The open maw of the C-130 appeared out of the darkness in front of and a couple meters below us, its cargo bay brilliantly lit. Jerico dropped onto the ramp, cut his rocket, retracted his wings, and with one smooth move slid into the cargo bay. Dorsey dropped the Herc ten meters, and I set up to duplicate Jerico’s maneuver.

  At that moment, Mother interrupted with “Incoming!” She dropped my Gryphon several meters while simultaneously firing several bursts at the incoming missile from my rear weapon. The first two missed, but the third one struck the missile’s rocket engine just a meter behind my nozzle. The missile disintegrated without exploding and fell back to earth.

  “Okay, Tiger, let’s try again,” Dorsey said in his calm aviator’s voice.

  As I brought my Gryphon around to get into position, Mother again announced, “Incoming!” She launched a volley at the missile, but before they affected it, the missile broke up in mid-air as it was struck by hundreds of rapid-fire .50 cal. bullets. Immediately thereafter, a large explosion enveloped the entire clearing that we had so recently vacated.

  “That should simplify things,” a new voice said on the circuit. “Lt. Joe ‘Happy’ Snider, U.S. Navy, at your service.”

  “Thanks, Happy, I owe you one. Tiger out!”

  My Gryphon ceased sliding along the Herc deck, and I secured my electronics and popped open my clamshell. As I swung to vertical, to my utter astonishment, I found myself wrapped in a tangle of female arms and legs.

  “Tiger, Tiger…You’re safe! You’re safe!”

  My helmet disappeared, and I experienced the most intense, tear-flooded liplock of my life. As I surfaced from its intensity, I began to hear laughter and cheering.

  “Apryl…What the…How the hell did you get here?” I was genuinely mystified.

  “She reached out to your command,” Dorsey said, stepping into my view. “Somehow, they got her to Antsiranana in time to board my Herc—in her medical capacity, of course. She insisted that she knew you and your team medically better than anyone. Who was I to argue?”

  MAYOTTE ISLAND—LAGOON

  On board the Platypus, Pete did a quick field dressing on Cappy’s shoulder. His spacesuit was shot, but that didn’t matter. Cappy was alive and could function even though he was not a lefty.

  On the bridge, Rog set his radar for close-in.

  “Slade, watch the waters around us. We don’t want a surprise boarding.”

  As they watched, twenty small craft departed Longoni Harbor, spotlights sweeping the water before them. “I’m getting underway,” Rog said. “Get the others down on the main deck, ready to fire.” He brought up the navigation system and pointed the cruise ship toward the nearest deep opening in the coral reef. Unlike a small craft, a large ship takes its time to build up speed, and Rog didn’t want to move any faster than he thought he could handle through the slot in the reef.

  As the watercraft closed the Platypus, the pirates commenced firing their small arms. “Hold fire until you are certain to be effective,” Rog told his crew.

  Suddenly, rapid-fire rained from above as two Navy fighters swept over the water between Platypus and the approaching small craft armada.

  “This is Lt. Joe ‘Happy’ Snider and Lt. Bob ‘Borax’ Johnson, U.S. Navy, at your service! Tally Ho!”

  Half the small craft floundered with the first pass. A second pass took out most of the remainder. As both fighters rose steeply into the night sky, a lone shoulder-fired missile chased them as they disappeared. The missile flamed out before it reached the clouds.

  DAEDALUS COMBAT—FINALE

  Rog turned out to be a pretty good ship handler. He successfully maneuvered Platypus out of Mayotte Lagoon and got underway for Antsiranana on Madagascar. The ship’s doctor did a professional job on Cappy’s shoulder. He was ready to party by the time Platypus reached port.

  Jerico, Apryl, and I, along with Senator Manfred, arrived at Antsiranana International Airport a couple of hours after we successfully boarded Randy’s Herc. Senator Manfred was whisked off by chopper to Platypus to see his family. The rest of the SWIC team refused to let us do anything. They serviced our Gryphons and wheedled out of us every detail of our pirate adventure. By the time we walked into the airport proper, the world media had arrived. We became the heroes of the hour and remained thus until Rog brought Platypus into the waters off Antsiranana. A pilot brought the ship to dock, and then the media forgot Jerico and me while they proceeded to court Rog and his guys—and rightly so. They were the ones who got shot up rescuing over 500 innocent passengers.

  When the media learned that we had all dropped from LEO, except for Apryl, of course, who clung to me the entire time, the circus started all over again. It literally took us two days to extricate ourselves.

  For a second time, we got to meet with the Commander-in-Chief. His personal friend and hand-picked successor, Senator Jack Manfred, was in the Oval Office with us. Rescuing him, saving his life, gave all of us special status with the Boss.

  So, now the World knows about SWIC. It knows that Navy SEALS can appear absolutely anywhere at all, at any time. And that’s a good thing.

  ON

  AMAZON.COM AND GOODREADS.COM

  I really appreciate you posting a review on Amazon and Goodreads. Posting to Amazon.com is intuitive. To post a review on Goodreads.com, click on this link, or go to their website and become a member if you are not already one. Search for Daedalus, and click on the “Want to read” button under the image of Daedalus. Indicate that you have read Daedalus and then you will be able to post a review. Thank you very much for going through this effort!

  by

  Robert G. Williscroft

  EQUATORIAL PACIFIC—SOUTHEAST OF BAKER ISLAND

  Margo stopped kicking her feet as the ominous gray shapes flashed into her peripheral view. Long, tawny hair floated past her head as her feet dropped below her slim, brightly clad body. She took a deep breath and floated slightly upward. A hint of fear crept into her mind as she turned toward three gray, sleek predators cruising just inside the limit of her vision, about twenty-five meters away.

  A gentle touch on her shoulder startled her. She turned to see Alex Regent tapping the depth reading on his dive-console with his index finger. Margo reached down and grasped her console, turning it so she could read her depth: twenty-five meters. She had drifted upward five meters since seeing the sharks.

  Margo exhaled angrily and let some air out of her breathing bag. She knew better than to lose track of her depth. Out there, her life depended on a constant awareness of exactly how deep she was. Together she and Alex sank back to thirty meters. Off to their right, the three gray shapes drifted with them. Would she ever get used to it, she thought, as she released a bit of air into her bag to stop her descent.

  “Alex,” she said.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12