Page 97 of Shockproof

He was nervous.

I needed him not to be.

“So, that’s what I’m sayingto youon what I now know is our last mission together.” He holds my stare hostage and extends an open palm in my direction. “Clear eyes. Clear heads. Clear hearts. Can’t lose.”

“Won’t lose.” I firmly assert at the same time we clasp grips.

“We are approaching the drop point,” announces our pilot prompting the two of us to remove our headsets and turn on our waterproof coms.

Side by side we pull on our masks and shove in our mouthpieces.

Blu opens the door and waits for our pilot to lift his hand into the air and wave three times to wordlessly declare “go go go”.

There’s no hesitation for me to step off, body immediately morphing into the ideal plummet position.

Fuck needing style today.

The only thing I need is speed.

Once we’ve both breeched the surface, we exchange nods of confirmation and dip back down.

For the first time in over a decade, I glide through the water, determined to break my record.

Devoted to shaving off any fraction of a second that can put me closer to rescuing Arley sooner versus later.

Our swift arrival near the side of the rocking ship allows us to briefly scan the situation we were only partially prepared for. Distant satellite thermal scanning gave us a read of ten heat signatures on board, which includes Arley,Rosenkrantz, and the vessel’s captain. Who was where and their possible patrol routes were all things there wasn’t time to study or deduce.

All we were given were the bare minimums.

Making it work is all on us.

The first guard on the main deck rounds the corner diligently scouring the ship itself, ignoring the uneven waters that are helping conceal our location. I instruct Blu with a hand motion to follow me and sink beneath the water a second time for us to swim slightly closer to the deck’s edge.

Releasing a rubber duck near the stairs we’re stealthily sandwiching works the same as it did before.

He grunts in confusion.

Crosses over to inspect it.

Bends down to retrieve the bright yellow object yet receives a knife straight through his neck slicing his trachea in one clean stab. Before his frame can crash into the water alerting the others to our arrival, Blu shifts himself in front of the individual and winds both arms around his torso to force him quietly into the dark depths. Between the injury and the struggle, it doesn’t take long for the male to drown or my partner to return.

Dividing and conquering to further subdue is the next strategic part of our modest plan.

I head right while he paddles left, both removing a small canister of knock out gas to toss on board for assistance.

The large build, dark-skinned opposition coming into view has me quickly pulling the plug; however, the pale ivory enemy who also happens to be cradling a tech nine like his counter preparing to pass him becomes the perfect storm for an attack. Rolling the canister through the gap of the deck and railing guard precedes me disappearing into the watery shadows to wait for their inevitable thuds.

When I’m certain it’s clear, I swim back up.

Survey the scene.

Launch myself up and over the edge where I hold my position to listen for additional movement.

Not receiving any, I ditch my flippers, keeping my knife ready in case there’s a need for an impromptu quiet kill. Next, I strip out of my other gear yet maintain my firearm along with ammo rounds for refilling.

I dispose of the passed-out guards’ guns into the water prior to using my knife to sever each of their brain stems in their facedown positions.

No witnesses.

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