Page 9 of Green Ravens

The water tossed violently around them as the SEALs made their way into the shallow water toward the boats, where his men were bent over the sides, ready to pull them up.

Each round shot and grenade launched by his crew carved a clearer path for their team to be rescued.

“Move, move, move!” the SEAL lieutenant yelled as he fell back to make sure every one of his squad was hoisted out of the murky water.

“Secured,” Oakley called first, already spinning his boat in the opposite direction.

Sawyer waited for his second in command to give him the all-go, and the moment he received his thumbs-up, all hell broke loose.

Chief Aiken Oakley

“No!” Oakley hollered as the multiple explosives from the rocket launchers blew Sawyer’s boat out of the water.

They struck the vessel with such violent force it sent a massive plume of black smoke, debris, and the men of theNeptunesoaring into the sky, their bodies tumbling in the air like ragdolls.

Bile rose in Oakley’s throat.

Chaos erupted in an instant. Shouts of alarm filled the radio as his men attempted to counter while others dove to retrieve survivors.

“Come on! Get ’em up, get ’em out the water!” Oakley yelled.

His officers returned aggressive fire into the thick brush, aiming at anything that moved, while his communications officer yelled back to command for immediate air support.

The acrid smell of burning metal, mixed with the muddy scent of the Madeira River, created a pungent smell that made him want to throw up.

Oakley wasn’t about to abandon theNeptune’screw as he scoured the water for survivors, particularly one.

Rockets were still being fired around them, causing the river to rage and spin his boat like a toy.

He kept his eyes on the surface. The simultaneous firing and the low growl of rockets launching from eighty feet away felt like he was taking punches to his gut by Mike Tyson. Brilliant burstsof orange and red skirted over his head, getting closer every second.

He was out of time.

Bodies rose to the surface, one by one, bobbing wildly like buoys in a hurricane.

Oakley caught sight of a sailor with bloodied white-blond hair, struggling with one arm to keep his half-burned face above the surface.

Bullets rained down around him and Oakley didn’t hesitate to dive into the madness, pumping his arms as he swam toward the man he knew was Sawyer.

He was swimming so hard that he barreled into Sawyer’s side. He wrapped one arm around his middle and used the other to keep his face out of the water. Sawyer’s groans of pain were a relief.

Sawyer was in bad shape, but at least he was breathing,andhis lower half was still attached.

He struggled to haul them both back to his boat and had made it close enough to feel a modicum of relief until multiple low-pitched hisses rang in his ears before the thunderouspopsof explosions sounded over his head.

Oakley dove under the water with Sawyer still in his arms a second before his own boat was struck at the hull, damn near splitting it in two.

The devastation of the rockets pierced the liquid silence.

After four bone-rattling jolts, he lost count.

The water convulsed, sending shockwaves rippling through the river, pushing them downstream like a tugboat. The force was so strong that his helmet and goggles were torn off by the current.

Large chunks of metal rained down like confetti. Oakley barely dodged them as he fought with all his might not to lose his hold on the limp man in his arms.

His lungs burned with the need for oxygen, but he kept swimming underwater until the surface was no longer bright orange.

Oakley broke through the water, gasping and choking for air that tasted acrid and bitter, but he gulped it down anyway.

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