Orbital Velocity by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2011-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Tokyo Harbor

CALVIN JAMES KNELT BEHIND John Trent as the ninja used a small mirror to see around the corner into the hold. Trent’s machine pistol hung on a strap around his neck, but his free hand was wrapped around the hilt of one of his throwing knives in case there was a sign of trouble.

Rather than have the pocket mirror hug the rim of the hatch, where it would catch any light source easily and betray his presence, Trent kept the small rectangle of reflection a foot back into the shadows of the corridor. Slowly, tortuously, he used the mirror to cut the hold into small sections. Among firearms trainers, this was known as “slicing the pie,” moving slowly and steadily to see the enemy with a minimum of stimulus to be noticed by said opponent. So far, Trent had counted four gunmen on the access balcony of the hold. It was nothing more than steel grating for a floor, and a pipe providing a rail to stop sailors from accidentally plummeting onto storage containers.

The sentries on duty didn’t have any cover, but they did have the advantage of a good firing angle and the ability to all fire at once against anyone entering from above or below. When Trent turned the mirror far enough to see the hatch that emptied onto the balcony, he noticed that there were two more riflemen visible through the hole.

Six up top, and the potential for a few more down among the storage containers, or even within one. Trent had spotted one container with its doors open, the glimmer of a lamp spilling out onto the floor of the hold. It might have been another trap, or it could simply be a fortress for the ship’s defenders to pick off the intruders. Trent slowly withdrew his mirror and pulled out a small notepad to scribble down a quick tactical map for James, which he read by the low glow of his filtered flashlight. Trent also drew a stick profile of the rifles that the Fist of Heaven guards carried.

James frowned, then nodded, killing his flashlight before someone caught sight of its feeble halo of light. His instincts were on high alert, especially after passing one particular hold that sounded as if it were offloading cargo. He didn’t want to think what the cargo was, and he especially didn’t savor the idea that the Fist of Heaven operatives were using the giant crane that he and Trent had descended from unseen.

“What is the plan?” Trent asked softly.

“We’re going back to the other hold,” James said. “They’re making enough noise in there that we won’t be noticed.”

“And if it’s locked?” Trent asked.

James patted a pouch on his belt. “I’ve got a key.”

The two men headed back down the corridor, and Trent tried the door. Sure enough, it was locked, but the sound of banging was obvious on the other side. He looked at James, who placed four prepacked sheets of rubber at the corners of the locked bulkhead after taking a careful measurement of the door.

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