Satan's Tail by Dale Brown & Jim Defelice

Author:Dale Brown & Jim Defelice
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Thrillers, Fiction, General, Espionage, Technological
ISBN: 9780060094416
Publisher: HarperTorch
Published: 2005-07-06T04:00:00+00:00

VI

Paradise

Gulf of Aden

8 November 1997

0301

TWO OF THE PATROL BOATS WERE DAMAGED BEYOND REPAIR. Ali took a last look around their decks, making sure his men had salvaged everything possible. He hated to lose the heavy guns, but they didn’t have the wrenches needed to take the bolts from the decks. One of the men had tried to cut away the deck with a chain saw—a creative idea, thought Ali, until the chain snapped and the man got a slashing wound on his arm for it. They settled for the ammunition.

Ten men had died, and some of their blood stained Ali’s hand and shirt. He saw it when he waded back to his own craft, noticing the stain on his hand.

He wished it were his enemy’s blood.

He had lost the Oman ship, and with her, his cousin Mabrukah and several other men he knew very well. Satan’s Tail had escaped. Ali knew because his spies had heard its radio transmissions, or at least some. One of the boats that accompanied it had been damaged, apparently by one of the missiles. A fisherman and his brother were making their way toward the area now in a small boat; he would know by morning how much damage they had done.

It wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough until he sank the large ship.

To do that, he had to return west. The Sharia and the others would have to be rallied. He would regroup, attack again.

The wind howled around his ears.

It sounded like Abu Qaed’s voice, calling him.

“Quickly now,” he told his crew. “Signal the others. We have a great distance to go.”

Aboard the Abner Read

0310

FOLLOWING DIRECTIONS FROM THE DREAMLAND TECHNICAL team, Storm’s communications specialists had managed to plug the portable communications system into the Abner Read‘s own system, even allowing visuals. So when Colonel Bastian signaled that he had to speak to the captain immediately, the specialists called up to the bridge and told Storm he could see the man who’d become such a thorn in his side.

Storm told them to make the connection and stepped to the video screen.

An image snapped in. He saw the side of a helmet, and waited as the head turned toward the camera. The visor was up and the oxygen mask hung down, revealing a face softer than Storm had expected. The eyes were pensive, searching, and expressive.

The voice was as belligerent as ever.

“We found the submarine,” Bastian told Storm.

“What?”

“The Libyan submarine. About forty miles southwest of your present location, just barely in Somalian territorial waters. It’s going west. Commander Delaford is on the circuit with the technical details. Tommy?”

“Hi, Storm. The submarine is definitely a Foxtrot, Project 641, Russian sub. May have been upgraded—the engines are quieter than the specs say they should be. It’s definitely not a Kilo.”

“How do you know?” said Storm.

“Because we worked with a Kilo to develop Piranha,” snapped Bastian. “And we sank one in the South China Sea.”

“Two,” said Delaford. “This is the first time we’ve come across a Foxtrot. He’s snorkeling right now, making about eight knots, a little slower.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.