Warshot (The Hunter Killer Series Book 6) by Don Keith (top ten ebook reader TXT) 📗

Texhong fabric mill as a green glow, half a mile away over the sandy, bramble-pocked beach dunes. A narrow, barely paved roadway snaked across the dunes, past where the young SEAL-team commander lay hunkered down, and on to a rickety pier that jutted out into the shallow, brackish waters of the bay. A cloyingly humid tropical breeze brought the stench of mud flats and rotting vegetation. It did nothing, though, to dissipate the humming cloud of mosquitoes that circled Ward’s face.

The goggles also allowed him to just make out Jason Hall in his hiding spot across the road. The big, black SEAL had set up his emplacement at the top of one of the sand dunes. That provided him a shooting lane that covered the southern approaches to the old ferry pier as well as the low marshes to the west. Elevation was an advantage. But it left him a bit more exposed, too.

The rest of Ward’s team were hidden around the perimeter of the Texhong facility. That allowed them the opportunity for as much warning and protection as his meager six-man team could provide. Unfortunately, the intel source had only provided the expected target and the approximate timing of the impending attack. Not the threat vector. That meant the SEALs would be forced to cover all three hundred and sixty degrees around the sprawling plant. That also meant the range of his tiny inter-squad radio was being tested to the max. He could just hear Tad Riley at the far northwest corner. Bill Ross, dug in on the northeast corner, and Sean Horton, over on the southwest corner, were significantly closer and easier to talk with, without the digital artifacting on their audio.

The tactical situation was certainly not ideal. Only he and Hall were in positions to easily support each other. Any one of the others would have to be on his own until someone could scurry over to help out.

Ward was hedging his bets. The logical attack vector would be from the sea, then over the ferry pier or across the nearby beach. The attackers would not expect opposition or think they needed the cover of the nearby woods. That was why he and Hall were dug in where they were, waiting, watching.

What they lacked in numbers the SEALs certainly made up for in firepower. Ward again checked his Mark 48 machine gun. Still locked and loaded. His M79 grenade launcher, with half a dozen forty-millimeter grenades, lay ready beside the machine gun. His MK4A1 carbine that he kept strapped across his chest was set, too. Ward settled back and scanned the dark horizon.

“Skipper!” The whisper in Ward’s earbuds sounded like raspy thunder, jolting him alert. “Couple of dark boats coming in from the south, real quiet like.” It was Jason Hall reporting. “Just coming around Hon Mieu Island now. I’d say there are at least a half dozen shooters on each boat.”

Ward nodded, as if Hall could actually see him. Two boats. A dozen men. He and his guys were only outnumbered a little better than two-to-one.

“Roger, Jase. Heads-up, everyone. Keep your eyes open for anybody trying to slip in the back door while we’re watching the front. Remember the plan. When I give the word, everyone fall back to the CONEX box.”

Ward counted the mike clicks as each SEAL acknowledged that he had heard him. Five clicks. Good.

Now Ward could just make out the low, wicked shapes of the two boats against the dark water. It took him a second, but then he recognized the profile.

“Jase,” he whispered into his throat mike. “You need to get your eyes checked. Those are Chinese Type 928 assault boats. And those bastards got a real stinger on their bows. We’ll need to shoot and scoot on this one.”

One mike click.

Ward watched as the two blackened Chinese assault boats silently slid across the calm waters toward the ferry landing. Now he could see that at least a couple of dozen shooters were crowded topside. The odds just went badly askew for him and his team.

The SEAL could also see that each boat’s bow-mounted 12.7 mm machine gun was manned and ready. For an assault team with no reason to expect any resistance, these guys were not taking any chances.

Ward now knew one other thing their intel had not told them. They were facing a team of China’s Sea Dragons, an elite special forces group within the PLAN Marines. But it made sense. They were the only ones with the reach and training to pull this raid off. And do enough damage to attract the world’s attention.

“Jase, they’re Sea Dragons. We need to tackle them before they get ashore. Wait until they dock and then let’s blitz ’em with a couple of grenades.”

Another single click of Hall’s microphone. Hall had once been an All-American linebacker for the Alabama Crimson Tide. He understood the football metaphors as well as the value of stuffing a play with a well-timed and unexpected defensive move.

Ward continued to build his plan even as he spoke.

“Then...then let’s scoot back to Doug’s hole. I don’t think it would be healthy sticking around here once we kick the hornet’s nest.”

Ward could now barely hear the burbling diesel engines as the boats slid to a smooth stop alongside the pier. Then he watched as a few of the black-uniformed marines jumped to the shore and took defensive positions while crewmembers efficiently tied the boats up to the pier. This was a well-trained team performing a choregraphed, well-practiced tactic.

It would be a difficult shot, almost three hundred yards from where Ward now stood, the M79 Thumper grenade launcher at his shoulder. The weapon was not the newest of its type, but it was the easiest to carry and use. And the 40 mm grenade could do some damage if he got it close enough.

He sighted carefully, allowed for the slight crosswind, and squeezed the trigger. The launcher’s deep, roaring thump split the quiet night, almost simultaneously with Jason