“Tear gas… military style.”
“Are you out of your damn mind? We won’t get that shit out of the furniture and bulkheads for years. If you pussies don’t want to clear the lower deck I’ll do it myself.”
“We’ll need a clearing on the landing for Tonto to proceed,” Clint said. “I’m not fond of using him in a bind like this. I mostly figured to have him smell out occupants in the cabins.”
“I can take the first hit like always,” Harding said. “I agree with Clint. I don’t want to risk Tonto.”
“It’s too narrow and circular.” Nick put away the gas canister with a sigh. “I’ll do it. Give me your vest, John. I’ll put it over mine. Clint, Casey, and Lucas can follow me down for head shots. There’s too much glass from the outer deck for an approach from there. They’ll see us and open fire through the glass. They won’t care about damaging the Admiral’s new ship. If this was easy, anyone could do it.”
Harding stripped off his vest, handing it to Nick. “He’s right. Let’s do this. We’ve iced these guys enough.”
Nick put on Harding’s vest over his. Laying the MP5 down, he retrieved his .45 caliber Colt. “The more time they have to screw around below decks, the worse our chances of capturing the ship in one piece. I need to get a prisoner so we know how many more guys they have on board.”
Walking over to the spiral ladder down, Nick smiled back at the others following him. “Remember… I’m the one with a bandaged ear.”
In the next instant Nick dropped down the spiral ladder, rolling painfully to the landing as AK47 weapons fire blasted into the stairs. Nick dived to the side, rolling once again into a shooter’s crouch, firing at muzzle flashes. MP5 fire from behind Nick silenced the automatic weapons fire. Screams of agony echoed along the bulkheads. Johnny gave Nick a hand to his feet.
“Are you okay, Muerto?”
“Yep. They stitched the material on my Kevlar but I’m okay. Get some lights on, Johnny and check for a live one we can question. I hear some unhappy candidates.”
Turning on lights as he circled the room, Johnny checked the bodies while Clint, Casey, and Lucas covered the scene and access points. The Dark Lord came down the spiral ladder with a smile as he checked his Kevlar vest covering Nick.
“They barely touched it, DL.” Nick took it off and handed it to John.
“I have a good one, Muerto,” Johnny called out as he helped a groaning man off the deck who gripped his shoulder in partial shock while staring glassy-eyed at his captors. “This one has a .45 slug through the shoulder but he can talk.”
“Good.” Lucas shot the screamer through the head. “This one took one through the nuts. He wouldn’t be much good for anything other than screaming. This boat has a crew of twenty-two normally. Counting these guys we’ve probably killed about that many. Don’t set the bleeder down anywhere that he’ll leave a stain, Johnny Five. We’ve already done enough damage.”
“Put him here, Johnny,” Nick told him, pointing at an already bloody chair. “Silvio? We have the main deck secured. Come aboard and guard the other decks with the minions. See what you can find on our dead guys.”
“Yes, Muerto.”
Johnny guided the man into the seat. Nick took duct tape from his bag, He wrapped the shoulder wound until it was covered and sealed. Nick straightened from his task as everyone else watched the interrogation chair along with the ladder leading down to the lower berthing, kitchen and dining areas.
“Who are you people?” The man spoke with a heavy Spanish accent.
“I am Dr. Muerto,” Nick said. “These are my companion surgeons, Dr. Ahab, Dr. Johnny Five, Dr. Nightshot, Dr. Dark Lord, and… ah… who are you again, Nowhere Man?”
“If you don’t want me to have Agent Tonto piss all over your leg you’d better keep a civil tongue in your head, Dead Boy,” Clint replied.
Nick chuckled. “Okay… those are the introductions. We need a couple questions answered.”
“Give me something for the pain! Do you know who you are fucking with? This ship belongs to Fernando Carone. He will have your badges and careers for this travesty!”
“What’s your name?” Nick smiled at the amusement the man’s declaration generated from Johnny and Harding’s Monster Squad.
“Paulo Riggs.”
“Now, Paulo… do you really think we could possibly be DEA or some other federal agents? We just killed all your comrades. If you answer my questions I’ll take away your pain. If you remain silent, I’ll have to do surgery on you. Believe me… you don’t want that. Where’s Carone and how many more passengers are below?”