Butler Did It! (24 page)

Over the intercom, Salvador, their man
in the mainmast, suddenly announced, “I see six men to starboard,
Captain. They appear to be getting a re-supply of ammunition from a
zodiac.”

“Damn!” Captain Z exclaimed. “I can see
at least four of the bastards firing at the bow from some crates
near the end of the second row of cargo containers,
too.”

With a sudden dawning, the Captain
cursed and grabbed at the intercom microphone.

“Security Team Alpha report your
status!”

EB’s voice came over the intercom in a
sobering announcement. “Captain, we're running pretty low on
ammunition, maybe forty or fifty rounds left between us. I have two
men with minor wounds. I don’t think these intruders are about to
give up anytime soon. We’ve already fired over two-thousand rounds
and aren’t doing much good. We’ve also begun to take fire from the
zodiacs circling near us. Right now, we have rounds coming from
three different directions. Our real problem is that we can't shoot
at the men on the main deck without exposing ourselves to a
murderous crossfire from the zodiacs off the bow.”

“Keep your heads down and conserve
ammunition. I will send help.”

In the stern both Butler and Trask felt
left out of the action. Hearing EB’s plea for help, Butler called
the bridge over his two-way headset.

“Trask and I have nothing better to do
right now. There's no activity around the stern since we shot up
two of the zodiacs. Trask has split Security Team Bravo into two
groups; each has set an ambush on either side of the
superstructure. If any invaders attempt to storm the bridge from
the port or starboard stairwells, they will get a hot reception,
but Trask and I are not doing any good back here. I was thinking
that maybe we could slip through the ship and come up close enough
to take some heat off our team at the bow turret. With your
permission, we will load up on spare ammunition and head toward the
bow to help Security Team Alpha.”

“You have my approval, Mister Butler.”
The Captain growled. “Just remember, you sign the paychecks. The
crew would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t get your fool head
shot off.”

Loading up all the spare ammunition
they could carry, Butler and Trask hustled below through the crew’s
quarters and exited onto the darkened vehicle deck. They were
jogging neck and neck until they began to approach the bow section.
Butler suddenly slowed down and came to a stop.

“You know, I think I have a better
idea.” Butler said, pointing with his SAW.

Trask gave him a strange look and then
an even stranger look at the vehicle Butler was pointing at. The
vehicle was the Force Protection Cougar Matthew had shown to
Katharine.

Was it only a couple of days
ago?
Butler thought.

The heavy-duty armored truck was
designed to travel in those parts of the world where roadside bombs
and land mines were common.

Butler smiled. It was a thoroughly evil
smile.

“Why not?” Butler asked Trask. “We need
some armor protection to flush the intruders from the main deck.
Why shouldn’t we use our own personal armored car?”

“Are you serious? You want to drive a
12 ton armored truck up onto the main deck and attack a bunch of
mercenaries.”

“Just imagine what the mercenaries are
going to think when a honking big truck rumbles up the ramp and
charges them.”

“It is going to scare them shitless!”
Trask laughed.

Butler grinned, patting his SAW. “I’ll
tell you what; I’ll even let you drive while I ride
shotgun.”

Trask looked at the resolve on Butler’s
face, and muttered, “Oh, what the hell! This might turn out to be
fun after all.”

While Trask warmed up the truck, Butler
engaged the ramp controls that allowed access from the vehicle deck
to the main deck. Then Butler leaped into the back of the vehicle.
Slapping a fresh magazine in his SAW, Butler eased up into the gun
turret on the roof.

“Hang on for a second; I have another
idea that might help.”

Butler got on the headset. He quickly
outlined his idea to the Captain, Tommy, and EB. Captain Z
suggested that a few volunteers from the rest of the crew could
certainly help spring Butler’s surprise on the raiders in the
zodiacs off the bow.

“EB, when we charge up the ramp, you
and Chan slip down to the bow and meet the volunteers at the bow
doors.”

In the meantime, the six remaining
zodiacs were circling the ship and shooting at the bow, as well as
at the bridge. Security team B advanced carefully around the
superstructure and began a selective firefight with about half of
the remaining mercenaries trapped on the main deck.

Tommy asked the Captain, “Sir, I’m
getting a radio message from the harbor patrol at Mahe; they heard
reports of shooting and are curious. Should we squeal for
help?”

“The harbor patrol on Mahe has one
repossessed speed boat and two volunteer cops with revolvers.”
Captain Z replied. “They can’t help and will only hinder. Tell them
that we’re shooting skeet.”

Tommy snorted. “That is the first time
I’ve heard mercenaries called skeet.”

About then, Mrs. Yan returned with a
net bag full of cans of frozen concentrated orange juice. Her face,
normally locked in a scowl of disapproval, was now grinning from
ear to ear. “Can you shoot these in your bean guns?” She asked
eagerly.

Tommy looked completely baffled for a
second, but then cracked a smile.

“You know, I believe I can!” He grabbed
her, kissed her, and then raced out on to the bridge deck to the
nearest cannon, recklessly exposing himself to sporadic gunfire.
Within seconds, the first can of frozen concentrated orange juice
rocketed from the cannon at one hundred-twenty miles per hour. The
frozen citrus delight slammed into a cargo container directly above
the head of one of the mercenaries. Trickles of orange juice slush
ran down his face, leading him to believe that he had been
wounded.

Tommy snickered heavily. “That guy will
never look at a glass of orange juice the same way
again.”

Having loaded the cannons with the
remaining juice cans, Tommy returned to the bridge just in time to
hear Matthew’s voice over his headset.

“Tommy?”

“Right here, buddy…”

“Play something appropriate on the
loudspeakers when we make our entrance.”

“I’ve got just the thing!” Tommy
cooed.

After Butler stacked his SAW magazines
on a ledge just below the roof hatch, he yelled down to Trask.
“Ready when you are, Raoul!”

Trask threw the heavily armored truck
into gear and gunned it. Butler had the SAW loaded with a
two-hundred round magazine and braced himself against the rim of
the hatch. As Trask revved the engine, Butler muttered the famous
old soldier’s prayer; “Oh Lord, thank you for what we are about to
receive.”

With an impatient growl, the Cougar
leapt onto the ramp and roared up onto the well-lit main
deck.

At the same moment, Tommy cranked the
loudspeakers to the max. George Thorogood and the Destroyers boomed
out ‘Bad to the Bone’. It was Tommy’s appropriate tune.

Moments later, the intruders remaining
on the Main deck saw a horrendous apparition. It rose rapidly up
from what, moments before, was level decking. With guns blazing,
horn honking and engine racing, a massive beast of a vehicle rushed
up the ramp from the enclosed deck. Ripping and snorting like a
bull with a bee up its butt, the huge 6x6 armored truck leapt off
the ramp, catching air where the ramp met the main deck. Even
before the Cougar was halfway off the ramp, several intruders, who
had been advancing toward the bow turret, were caught frozen in
open-mouthed surprise at the first appearance of the monster truck.
Trask spun the steering wheel suddenly hard left and then right,
swiping two of the invaders out of existence. Not to be out done,
Butler fired a half a magazine at a cluster of invaders taking
cover behind several large crates.

Many were out of ammo and those still
resisting had forgotten about the rest of Security Team Bravo, who
were selectively shooting at anything upright. Two enterprising
mercenaries attempted to climb on board the Cougar at the start of
the second circle. The first fell under the right side tire. The
second, getting a foothold on the spare tire and attempting to
climb on top of the vehicle, peeked over the roof, only to discover
the muzzle of the SAW aimed at his forehead. In a futile effort, he
tried to bring his AK-47 to bear, too late, to his eternal
regret.

Another group of marauders, firing from
behind a heavy crate that held counterweights for the massive
forward cranes, forced Butler to duck back inside the Cougar. It
was effective cover for the intruders. They had three thousand
pounds of steel in front of them and a row of cargo containers
behind. Their combined fire suddenly focused on the driver’s side
windshield. Dozens of rounds punched into the armored glass in
sequence, attempting to tunnel through the three and a half inch
thick glass by sheer force.

While Butler was reloading the SAW with
a fresh magazine, Trask spun the Cougar around again, facing the
superstructure.

Trask yelled up to Butler, “I’m getting
heavy fire from the group near the crane. See what you can
do!”

Butler responded by concentrating fresh
fire on the crane area. Trask spun the Cougar in another three
hundred-sixty-degree spin on the main deck before suddenly charging
directly toward the counterweight crates that were protecting
several of the intruders. The Cougar plowed into the crate,
snapping its restraints like strands of spaghetti and pushing the
heavy crate into the row of cargo containers. Just for good
measure, Butler made sure that there were no further attacks from
that quarter by spraying the area with the last of his
magazine.

Yelling at the top of his lungs, Tommy
fired his orange juice cans at any of the intruders retreating from
the homicidal maniacs in the monster truck. Those cans of orange
juice that missed their mark slammed into the sides of the cargo
containers with explosive force. Those that didn’t, dented skulls
and broke bones.

With the concerted attack on their rear
by Security Team B, intense sounds bombarding their senses, frozen
cans of orange juice zipping all around, and two maniacs in the
armored car from Hell terrorizing them, it only took one man to
lose his nerve. With a loud scream, the leader of the mercenaries
suddenly made a running dive over the side of the ship. In a mass
panic, the rest ran to the sides of the LST and leaped into the
water.

One hundred feet off the bow of the
ship, six remaining zodiacs were firing at the bow turret, unaware
that in the mêlée occurring on the main deck. EB and her team had
escaped and reformed at the ramp behind the bow doors. With one
press of a button, the bow doors slowly began to open. The men in
the zodiacs stared in awe as the giant mouth of the Pelican opened
before them. A rain of lethal fire poured out on them when a mass
of guns suddenly opened up from behind the perforated steel landing
ramp. EB’s team, along with Chan and a cadre of volunteers, fired
every bit of ammunition they had in less than sixty seconds. When
all the ammo was expended, they fired all of the flare guns aboard.
Two of the zodiacs ignited, converting into flaming balls of fire
in an instant. The remaining zodiacs sped off toward safer
environs. The battle for the LST was over.

Out of the thirty-two attackers, twelve
were dead. An unknown number were swimming toward Praslin Island at
last sighting, and a few had escaped in the surviving zodiacs.
Trask’s crew captured one man who was mildly concussed, having been
the first man hit with Tommy’s beanbag cannon.

Security Team Alpha had two wounded
men. Neither was in serious condition but Butler sent them to the
hospital at Mahe, and arranged for transport to get them back to
the States as quickly as possible. The rest of the injuries were
superficial. One volunteer had a burned thigh from a misfired
flare, and Trask had a couple of glass splinters in his
jaw.

Captain Z arrived on the main deck to
inspect the damage to his ship.

“I’ve notified the authorities in Mahe
about the zodiacs and the swimmers.”

“And what did they say?”

“When the Seychellois Self-Defense
Force Patrol boat returns from the Outer Islands, they will send
someone to investigate. They suggested we take any captives to the
Chief of Police in Victoria. The SSDF said that they would drop by
next week and conduct an investigation.”

The firefight had destroyed two
workboats and four cargo containers. Two of the labs were
completely shot up, trashing everything inside.

During their inspection of the damage,
Butler and the Captain discovered Doc treating Trask just outside
the armored car. The Cougar had more bullet holes to add to its
already battered appearance.

“You were behind bulletproof glass.
What happened?” Butler asked Trask as Doc was bandaging him
up.

“No glass is truly bulletproof,
especially after twenty or thirty rounds. I ducked right after I
felt glass shards hit my face.” Trask pointed at the driver’s seat.
The headrest of the Cougar was badly shredded. “Thank God, I
decided not to wear my seat belts, otherwise that would be my
head.”