Don Pendleton - War Tactic

“No,” James said. “Found him like this. I guess those last few shots were his way of saying goodbye. He’s got a nick in his femoral artery. Bled out fast.”

“I’m sure no one will mourn his passing,” McCarter said. “Not much, anyway.” The man was gray from blood loss. As it turned out, this was the scorched pirate, who had evidently gotten the worst of the explosion that had obliterated the first of the pirate launches.

There was a sudden bustle of activity from below. The Filipino captain and several of his men emerged. Four of the sailors carried M-16 A-1 rifles, one of the standard infantry weapons of the armed forces of the Philippines. The soldiers took up formation, two kneeling, two standing, and aimed their weapons at McCarter, James and Hawkins. The captain looked more than a little annoyed.

“We no sink,” he said.

“Now see here, mate,” McCarter said. “I realize perhaps now that things are under control, you’re feeling like asking just what we’re doing on your ship. But as you can see—” he pointed to the helicopter hovering overhead “—we’re the reason you didn’t get blown out of the water.”

“I check with my government,” the captain said. “You no move.”

“That’s fair enough, mate,” McCarter said. “We no move. But I’d like to signal my chopper to put in to port. He’s got electrical problems.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed and his hand drifted to the M-9 automatic now holstered on his belt. Evidently the captain had decided, after seeing to the damage to his vessel, that a trip to the armory had been in order. McCarter couldn’t say he blamed the man. Under the circumstances, it seemed unlikely that McCarter would himself just ignore boarders who claimed to be on the right side.

More crew members were moving around the deck now, using portable extinguishers to put out the fires still burning. The captain watched them, probably to make sure everything was under control. In the distance across the water, several vessels were now approaching.

James pointed, but the captain shook his head.

“You called for help?” McCarter asked the captain.

“Navy coming,” the captain announced. “Hope you three check out.”

“We will, mate,” McCarter said. “We will.” He took his signal mirror from a pouch on his web gear and angled it at the chopper. Hoping he was getting the message across, he did what he could to flash “port” a couple of times. Grimaldi got the hint, dipped the nose of the helicopter then turned and limped away.

“There goes our ride,” James said.

“I’m sure the captain here could be convinced to help us put in to port,” McCarter said. “Once he’s determined to his satisfaction that we’re not his enemies. Which I think he already understands, for the most part.”

“I can feel his understanding through those four assault rifles,” Hawkins said.

“People have different ways of expressing trust,” James said.

McCarter wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw the Filipino captain crack a smile.

“Trust issues,” the captain noted.

“What’s that, mate?” McCarter asked.

“I have,” the captain said, grinning.

The troops lowered their weapons. James and Hawkins exchanged glances.

“Don’t we all,” James said. He blew out the breath he had been holding. “Don’t we all.”

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