Brass Monkey by Kennedy J. Robert

Brass Monkey by Kennedy J. Robert

Author:Kennedy, J. Robert [Kennedy, J. Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, thriller, Mystery, Adventure, Fiction, Suspense
ISBN: 9781466218154
Google: y07LygAACAAJ
Amazon: 1466218150
Goodreads: 13187710
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2011-09-01T07:00:00+00:00


MS Sea Maiden

Trubitsin and Yakovski crouched on either side of the hatch, each spraying alternating gunfire in the general direction of the assailants on the deck. They were trapped in a crossfire, with no hope of escape.

“What the hell are we going to do?” yelled Yakovski as he reloaded.

Trubitsin held his AKS-74 out and squeezed the trigger, sending a spray of 7.62mm shells in an arc across the deck, the ricochets bouncing harmlessly away, his enemy impossibly hidden.

Yakovski leaned in and fired a volley at the other side of the deck. Both volleys of gunfire were met with a steady wall of lead from their attackers, the bullets ricocheting off the metal wall surrounding the hatch, but none making it into the room they had holed up in. “They’re not trying to hit us!” yelled Trubitsin. “They must want prisoners.”

Yakovski nodded. “Da, interrogation!” He leaned out and fired another volley, apparently a little bolder now that he realized Trubitsin was right.

Trubitsin looked about the room. His eyes were drawn to a hatch at the back of the room, sealed. “Keep them busy!” he yelled as he scrambled over to the hatch and spun the wheel to open it. He pulled down the handle and pushed the hatch open slowly. He poked his head out to look, and saw no one. It led to a corridor he recognized as leading toward the crew quarters, and then out again to the deck.

Trubitsin looked back at his sergeant of over twenty-five years. Yakovski fired a volley then glanced over his shoulder at him. “Go! I’ll keep them busy. Just promise me one thing!” He fired another volley.

“Anything,” said Trubitsin.

“If I make it out of this alive, find me.”

“You have my word.”

Yakovski fired another burst. “And if I don’t, say goodbye to all the hookers on Tverskaya Street!” He laughed and fired again, then looked back at Trubitsin. “Are you still here?”

Trubitsin gave him a quick salute, and ducked through the hatch, closing it behind him, knowing he most likely wouldn’t see his comrade again.

He ran down the corridor, ducked through the crew quarters, then, reaching the end, he cautiously opened the hatch and peered out. He saw no one. He stepped out onto the deck, and slowly made his way toward the prow. As he rounded a crate he saw one of the crew hunched over, his back to him, as he sought cover from the gunfire at the other end of the ship.

Trubitsin stepped toward the man, reaching out to let him know he was there. His foot hit something. His eyes darted to the deck and he saw a small pipe roll away from his foot, the distinct hollow sound of metal on metal clearly heard in the tight confines of the stacks of crates. The man whipped around and Trubitsin opened his mouth to warn him off, raising his hands palm upward in a gesture of friendship, but the look of panic in the man’s eyes let Trubitsin know it was too late.



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