Trade Wars: Texian Armada Saga Book 2 by Brandon Phillips

Author:Brandon Phillips [Phillips, Brandon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Sterncastle Writer
Published: 2022-07-07T16:00:00+00:00

“Up from the sub sixty feet below

Scuba to the surface and we’re ready to go

Breaststroke, sidestroke to the shore

Hit the beach and we’re ready for more

K-bar, grease gun by my side

These are the tools that make men die.”

The Raiders, designated “Drum2” were sailing over towards the shore where Calder had deployed a scouting party of sorts. A palm-sized Mini Airborne Unmanned Vehicle swept the area around the ship, then alighted on a nearby boulder to keep an extra set of eyes on the bridge. Another MAUVE the size of a gnat scanned the areas below the main deck. Two crew members were sleeping. One was a lookout, on the bridge. Thirty minutes later they crept up to the enemy ship. Dom, Calder, and I could only watch the feeds from the aerial vehicles to know how the mission was proceeding.

The outer doors of the bridge were open to allow the breeze to blow through to assist with temperature control. Drum2 pulled themselves up over the stern to board the ship. From there they crept up to the bridge. The sailor on guard duty was mostly engrossed in his PC. Staying awake in the dark, humid steel can was a daunting task. Every few minutes he would get up and step one foot out into the fresh open air. When he did he found three monsters still dripping from their journey out of the depths of the abyss.

Ghosts! The officer screamed inside his head. The Raiders moved so fluidly they appeared to float through the ether. That he was staring down suppressed weapons did not dispel his misbelief. His eyes could not focus on the wraiths surrounding him. He did not know of the 3D camouflage that the trio was decked out in that caused them to seemingly melt into the background. Vasco grabbed the watch officer in a sleeper hold. Whether it was sleep deprivation or the sudden surge of adrenaline the Korean sailor went for his sidearm.

In stride Vasco expertly dispatched the target before he could unsnap his holster. Demons! was his final thought before succumbing to lack of blood to the brain.

“Bogie down,” Vasco noted subvocally. Then he led the trio to the bridge. They cleared it in seconds.

David tapped Cosimo. Cosimo tapped Vasco. “Ready.” Vasco was again on point as they descended the stairs. Due to the design of the small ship the passageway that led into the crew’s berthing area was a kill box.

Despite what movie magic might suggest, “silencers” was not an accurate description. The suppressors attenuated the report of the gunshot but not completely. It was still a loud noise. Just not to the point of needing earmuffs. The crew of the PC were on edge from low rations and short sleep from the air-conditioning being down.

Two of the crew were firing from the back corners of the bunk room. The electronic optics we had were really good. The tech that the Raiders had was night and day by comparison. No pun intended. It was difficult to pick the shooters out against the hot bulkhead.

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