“Sure they do. Or at least we have to assume so.” He looked to his naval special warfare colleague. “Mr. Malten?”
Malten stood up in the front row and turned to face the others. “We used to run this scenario until we could do it in our sleep. Same thing applied whether the ship was in port or under way. In fact, it also applied to offshore oil platforms and the like. Depending what you see when you first scan over the deck edge, either you neutralize anybody there or let him go, if he’s a rover. Then you get at least three men on deck immediately. They face forward and aft, covering the others while they get aboard. The third man looks up: there’s always structure above you. If there’s no opposition, you have a foothold and then you can start maneuvering. If it comes to a fight, at least you have some support right away.”
Pope nodded his bald head in approval. “A-plus, right out of the manual.” He turned to the audience again. “Any questions so far?”
Pace, who was decidedly unenthusiastic about recreational boating, raised a hand. “When you say you neutralize a guard, what’s the preference?”
“We’ll have suppressed SMGs and pistols. We might take a couple of rifles, but essentially a ship is a building several stories high. That applies inside as well as outside. You’ll be fighting your way upward or downward as much as fore and aft, so it’s usually close quarters. Now, in this particular case, we have to assume the guards will be armed and they’ll shoot on sight. At least that’s what I’m told, based on what happened in Chad. But even a head shot might prompt a reflex action that fires a warning shot. So if we can take out somebody without shooting, that’s preferred. We’ll have Tasers, flex cuffs, and gags. However, if you jump somebody and he’s putting up a real fight, just pitch him overboard. He can yell all he wants but he won’t be heard from a moving ship.
“Details: we don’t want to get aboard and then have somebody notice wet footprints on deck. Because we’ll board from the CRRCs, your feet should be dry but in case they’re not, take them off and go in your socks. Tie your shoes together and take them with you.”
He stood with hands on his hips, consciously exuding an air of confidence. He would seldom admit it, but he learned the trait in parochial school, long before reporting to Coronado Amphibious Base.
Green raised a hand. “Commander, what happens once we have the ship? I don’t know about the other guys, but I can’t run a rowboat.”
“We only need a small crew: enough qualified people to run the ship while the real crew is being held. Admiral Derringer is arranging that. And we’ll have a nuclear expert, Mr. Langevin, to handle the yellow cake. He’s with the team in the Middle East right now.” He scanned the room from front to back. “Anything else?”
When there was no response, Pope started walking to the door. “Let’s get going, gentlemen. Time’s our enemy right now.”
62
SS
Victor Pope stood on the foredeck, noting that some of the visitors interested in historic ships cast envious glances his way. Other vessels such as the decommissioned destroyer
“We’re going to practice interior tactics during the day,” Pope explained to his team. “After hours we’ll haul out the Zodiacs and work on boarding. That’s just as well, because in the real world we’ll probably operate at night anyway.”
The former SEAL began pacing, organizing his thoughts. He already had the lesson plans in mind, but he wanted to keep the training sessions logical, focused. “Let’s go inside,” he said.
Pope led the dozen men to the mess area, which offered the best prospects for a classroom. Once the former SEALs, Marines, Rangers, and police alumni were settled, he got right to work.
“Any of you who’ve never been aboard a ship can see why we’re not taking any long guns. We’re in tight quarters anywhere we go, so we’ll be using SMGs and pistols. Eye and ear protection are mandatory. Believe me: you cap off a round inside a steel compartment and you’ll be hearing bells for hours. That’s an advantage we’ll probably have over the opposition.
“Now, because it’s so tight in here, weapon retention is a major concern. I brought dummy weapons for us to practice with: Glocks and MP-5s. All of you know about moving to corners: don’t lead with your muzzle.” He nodded to Phil Green, an erstwhile artilleryman who had become a motorcycle patrolman. Officer Green had written a record number of citations until some of his customers complained to the department. They objected to his custom-made ticket book, featuring a rearranged bumper sticker proclaiming, “Die, yuppie scum.”
Green held a red plastic Glock close to his chest, muzzle parallel to the deck. In one fluid movement, Pope grabbed the dummy weapon with both hands and shoved it upward. As Green retreated, Pope pressed forward, keeping the muzzle beneath Green’s chin.
“You can see he’s purely defensive,” Pope explained. “I control the gun, and he can’t fight me off because he needs both hands on it. But I can use one hand to poke his eyes or smack his ear. Eventually I’m going to own his pistol.”
At a signal from Pope, Green returned to the head of the room, now holding the Glock in a low ready position, angled forty-five degrees downward. When Pope made a grab for the pistol, he got one hand on it but Green stepped back three paces, pulling his assailant off balance.
“You see what’s happened?” Pope asked. “He still has control. I can force the gun down somewhat, but it’s still pointed at my legs. He can light me up, and after the first couple of rounds I’m going to let go.”
Don Pace said, “If I’m a real smart crook, I can force the slide out of battery.”
“Well, you’d have to be one really cool customer,” Pope replied. “But how long can you keep the slide back? If Mr. Green gets in battery for less than one second, I’m toast.”
A former SWAT cop named Bob Ashcroft raised a hand. “Are we going to have suppressors on our guns? If we are, the HKs will be about as long as an M4 carbine.”
“Good point,” Pope replied. “I’d recommend putting the cans on the MP-5s when we’re on deck, since that might buy us a little time when we need it most. Once we’re inside, I’d lead with unsilenced guns and keep a few suppressed as backups once the shooting starts. Sort of have it both ways. But ear protection is still important, since the bad guys probably won’t have suppressors.”
Pope glanced at his briefing notes. “We’ll practice these retention drills and get used to working corners together. Then we’ll move to the vertical plane, with decks and ladders.”
Pace wrinkled his brow. “Ladders?”
“Okay,” Pope said. “For you landlubbers, pay attention.” He stomped his right foot twice. “This is not the floor, it’s the deck.” He tapped the wall behind him. “That’s a bulkhead.” Pointing upward, he said, “That’s the overhead. There’s no ceiling on a ship. Same applies to ladders— what you call stairs. And by the way: we’re not in a ‘room’ with a ‘corridor’ outside. This is a compartment adjoining a passageway. Got it?”
“Yessir,” Pace mumbled, obviously unconvinced.
“And another thing,” Pope added. “We probably won’t know the physical layout of our target until we get aboard, but it may have watertight doors. That means knee-knockers.” He walked to the compartment entrance and kicked the lower lip of the hatchway, elevated above the deck to contain water. “If you spend much time aboard ship, eventually you’ll skin your shins on these contraptions. If you’re doing a tactical Michael Jackson, moon walking backward while covering your team from behind, you can trip over one of these things real easy. So I recommend single-footing it.” He demonstrated by backing several steps, leading with his right foot each time.
Ashcroft shook his head. “Man, oh, man, that’s a lot of really basic stuff to absorb in a short time.”
“You’re right. That’s why we’re getting started here, and we’ll keep at it as long as we can. If our target vessel takes the western route around Africa, we’ll have a lot more time for training.”
“What about communications?” Green asked.
“We have some off the rack gear that should work but I’m still looking into that. One of the SSI directors is a
