Offshore Extortion

September, 1995

USS Nassau, Gulf of Mexico

The Tomahawk helicopter barely touched down before the four GI Joe SEALs jumped from the helicopter’s seating area and dropped to one knee. Lift-Ticket took the twin-rotor heavy-lift helicopter back into the air, pivoted it around and raced back to the American coast, some five miles north of the amphibious assault ship.

An enlisted sailor ran over to the SEALs, who stood and pivoted toward him as one.

“Cap’n’s waiting for you in the wardroom, follow me.” The sailor turned and led them away into the ship’s ‘island’ superstructure next to its aircraft carrier-like flight deck.

Several minutes later, the seaman knocked on the wardroom door, opening it as a voice inside called out, “Come in.”

Torpedo led the four SEALs inside. The captain turned toward him and the warrant officer saluted.

“Warrant Officer Torpedo, captain,” Torpedo introduced himself. “Allow me to introduce the rest of my squad: Chief Petty Officer Wet Suit, Chief Petty Officer Tracker and Petty Officer First Class Wet Down.”

The other three saluted. The captain returned the salutes.

“Welcome aboard. Have you been briefed at all?” the captain asked.

“No, sir. We just got hustled aboard the helo and raced down here,” Torpedo replied.

The captain sighed. “Get comfortable.”

The four SEALs sat as the captain explained the situation.

“A force of forty Cobra Eels has hijacked the Sea-view Horizon oil drilling platform which is about five miles south of us. They boarded the platform by unknown means yesterday afternoon. Once they had control of the rig, they brought in surface-to-air missiles and anti-ship missiles and positioned them around the rig. One of the crew managed to get off a warning, which the Coast Guard picked up. A cutter named the Panache came toward the rig to investigate the report, to see if it was true.”

The captain paused, looking around the four. “She was fired on by an anti-ship missile and barely escaped. The Navy rushed four ships here to form a blockade around the rig, at the estimated limit of the missile’s range. The Perry class frigate Wadsworth launched a zodiac last night with four Marines on board. They managed to get in close and reconnoitre the rig and get back undetected.”

The captain handed a diagram of the rig to Torpedo. “These are the locations of the missile launchers.”

Torpedo took the diagram and gave it a cursory look.

“DOD has issued orders for the Cobras to be removed from the rig and the missiles neutralised. Since the Joes got made the point force for any operation dealing with Cobra or the Red Shadows after the Washington Incident, you guys are the ones going in.”

The Washington Incident was one of several names used by the media and the public to refer to the Red Shadows attack on Washington DC earlier that year.

“I thought Cobra had given up terrorist operations,” Wet Down said, looking at the other Joes. “Isn’t that why the Joes got shut down?”

“It was,” Wet Suit replied. “Some wise guys in the Pentagon felt that since Cobra seemed to have gone into legit business and they’d taken over Borovia, Wolkekuckukland, Darklonia and Trans-Carpathia in Europe, they were no threat any more and the Joes weren’t needed.”

“Even though three months after the Joes got shut down, Action Force intervened in central Europe and booted out Cobra’s forces.” Tracker sneered. “Pentagon weenies still didn’t want the Joes around.”

Torpedo looked to the captain. “What are the Cobras up to?” he asked, refocusing the conversation.

“The Eels are being led by two guys who called themselves ‘Hydro-Vipers’ in a radio message and said they want ten million dollars, US currency of course, from the rig’s owners or they destroy it in another thirty six hours,” the captain replied. “Before we left port four SHARCs were flown down from Connecticut. They’re down on the hangar deck. They’re your infiltration route.”

“Let’s do this,” Torpedo said, standing.

Ten minutes later

The four SHARCs moved away from the Nassau, clearing her rear well deck. They quickly submerged and turned south toward the oilrig.

Wet Down’s SHARC was bringing up the rear. The young petty officer could still scarcely believe his luck. He’d joined the Navy at 18 and volunteered for the SEALs at 19. After completing the gruelling thirty-month training period, he’d been assigned to SEAL Team 8 where he’d served for the next three years. Over those three years, he’d heard many stories about the near-legendary SEALs known as Torpedo and Wet Suit who were the only SEALs in the GI Joe team for several years. Wet Down had been even more amazed when he’d met Torpedo during an exercise at the SEAL base at Little Creek. Torpedo had been impressed by Wet Down’s skills and had personally recommended him for selection to DEVGRU, the elite unit of SEALs known for counter-terror operations.

Wet Down’s time in DEVGRU had led to him being hand-picked for the Joes by Torpedo when the unit was reformed only months earlier. It seemed to Wet Down that the warrant officer had taken an interest in his career. Only two other SEALs were being brought into the new version of GI Joe, one was a member of the secretive Steel Brigade network whom Wet Down had heard was involved in the battle to defeat the Red Shadows after their assault on Washington DC, the other was a guy who he’d heard of named Armando Ortiz.

The SHARCs were approaching the oilrig’s loading platform at the surface of the sea.

Slowly, the four submersibles rose toward the surface, before halting beneath the waves.

The SEALs opened the canopy of their SHARCs and clambered out, each wearing a face-mask connected to an oxygen bottle so they could breathe as they swam upwards.

Two Eels were standing guard on the platform, as Wet Down neared the surface, he could just make out their conversation as one chastised the other for smoking.

“Wet Down, we’ll take them together, on your go,” Torpedo said over the small headset Wet Down wore.

The pair pushed up, grabbed an Eel by his belt, yanking him backward and then stabbed the luckless Cobra frogman in the neck, killing them instantly.

Wet Down shoved the dead Eel away and clambered out of the water, Wet Suit helping him up.

“You guys okay?” a voice shouted from above as the SEALs doffed their masks and wetsuits. “Miller?”

“Miller slipped and fell in the water!” Tracker shouted back. “He’s okay!”

“Dozy idiot!” came a shout back.

Torpedo keyed his radio. “Nassau, this is Lima Six. Two hostiles down in section one alpha. Moving up to section two,” he reported quietly.

“Nassau copies,” came the reply.

The four commandos moved up the steps toward the lowest deck of the rig.

“Keep it tight, people,” Torpedo whispered. “Weapons ready.”

Another Eel was standing at a railing, looking out to the open sea. He had his back to the Joes as they moved up.

“Got a visual on a hostile by the railing,” Wet Suit reported.

“Free to engage, suppressed weapons only,” Torpedo answered.

Wet Suit drew a suppressed pistol and fired a single shot, dropping the Eel.

“We’re clear.”

Near them was a small cabin-like room. Tracker moved to peek in.

“Hostages inside,” he whispered.

“Roger, get ready to breach,” Torpedo replied.

Wet Down and Torpedo moved to one of the cabin’s two doors. The other two commandos to the other. Wet Down and Tracker placed small shaped charges on the door and detonated them.

The doors exploded inward with a shower of splintered wood as Torpedo and Wet Suit pivoted in the door, firing single rounds to drop two of the Eels. Wet Down and Tracker came in behind them, firing and killing the remaining Eels.

“Clear,” Wet Suit said.

“We’re clear,” Torpedo replied. “Nassau, hostages secure in section two echo.”

Wet Down and Tracker removed the oil workers’ blindfolds and gags.

“Who are you?” asked one of them.

“GI Joe,” replied Tracker.

“How many of you are there?” the oil worker asked. “There’s forty of them!”

“Just us four,” replied Wet Down.

The pudgy middle-aged man looked at him incredulously.

“We’re SEALs,” Wet Suit said. “Relax, ten to one odds are nothing for us.”

“We need to leave you here and get up top and secure those missile batteries. Stay put and we’ll be back soon enough,” Torpedo advised them.

The Joes headed out, moving up another staircase on to deck two, as a large blue ‘2’ informed them.

“Joes, enemy helo patrolling the perimeter, keep a low profile,” a voice from the amphibious assault ship warned them.

“Roger that,” Torpedo answered.

As they neared another small room, a FANG helicopter flew past. The SEALs melted into the shadows. The small chopper passed by.

“Okay, move,” Torpedo answered. They approached the room. A single door provided access. Torpedo sneaked a look through a side window.

“Six hostages, two Eels,” he reported. “Wet Down, get ready to breach.”

The younger man slapped another charge on the door and detonated it. In seconds, the door was a memory and the Eels were dead.

A radio crackled as they moved to help the hostages.

“''Group five, report in. Group five are you there? Wright, respond… We’re sending a team down.”''

“Oh hell,” Wet Suit said. “I think we’re going to have company.”

“We’ll ambush them. Tracker, Wet Down, get the hostages out of here.”

The two junior Joes moved quickly to free the hostages’ legs and then led them quickly away to the stairs back to deck one.

Wet Suit and Torpedo moved quickly rigging up a booby trap in the doorway and then fell back to a scaffold that allowed them to watch from higher up.

Moments later, the Eels arrived. One of them directed two others to go in the door.

One of the Eels set off the booby trap, blowing up all four Eels.

“Nassau, Lima Six. Our cover is blown.”

“''Copy that, Lima Six. You need to take out the rest of those missiles before we can send in reinforcements.”''

“Roger.”

Tracker and Wet Down hurried back.

“Tracker, get the hostages down to the loading platform and stay put. We need to get the rest of the hostages secured and neutralise those missiles. Let’s move,” Torpedo ordered.

Tracker nodded and moved away.

“Three of us against thirty-two Eels and two Hydro-Vipers?” Wet Suit asked.

“Scared, Wet Suit?” Torpedo asked.

“No, just concerned about the hostages.”

“Well, we need to move or this rig’s going to be blown sky high, let’s go.”

The three of them moved out, heading up to deck four where the anti-ship missiles were. They moved around the deck quickly, sabotaging the ASMs so that if they were launched, they would be useless.

Eels charged down the stairs from deck four and, once they spotted the Joes, opened fire.

The three commandos returned fire, dropping several of the Eels as they charged down the stairs.

The sound of rotors beating the air began to drown out the sound of gunfire; Wet Suit pivoted and spotted the FANG.

“FANG, 3 o’clock, find cover!”

Wet Down pivoted, snatched up a LAW-80 rocket launcher dropped by an Eel and then snapped it up to fire, the light anti-tank round flashing out and obliterating the helicopter.

“Nice shot, Wet Down. FANG neutralised.”

“The clock’s ticking, we need to find the rest of the hostages and neutralise those SAMs!” Torpedo shouted.

Short bursts dropped the surviving Eels and they moved up to deck four. Another squad of Eels were swiftly cut down and the three Joes moved up to the top deck, where the surface to air missile batteries were sited and the last hostages were being held.

Torpedo led the trio toward the first SAM battery, which they quickly worked to sabotage. As they did, another group of Eels approached.

“Hostiles coming in at three o’clock,” Wet Down called.

“Take them!” Torpedo replied as he finished sabotaging the final missile.

Wet Down opened fire, followed by Wet Suit.

“Wet Down, hostile by the pile of crates at two o’clock!” Wet Suit called.

“I don’t have a visual,” Wet Down called back. “He’s out of my line of sight!”

“Tango down!” Torpedo replied as he turned and fired.

“Cover me!” Wet Suit hollered, “I’m reloading!”

“Torpedo, two hostiles coming in from the right near that overturned barrel!” Wet Down called.

“Copy that,” Torpedo fired dropping the Eels.

Finally, the last of the Eels were down. The three SEALs moved quickly toward the large structure at the side of the rig, where the remaining hostages were believed to be held.

Torpedo waved Wet Suit toward one side of the door, Wet Down to the other. “Check your fire, we don’t know what’s on the other side,” he warned them quietly.

Nods from the others acknowledged him. “Get a charge on that door. Let’s hit them.”

Seconds later, the door exploded in a shower of splinters and the three commandos charged in, weapons up. One Eel charged toward Torpedo, a knife in his hand. The Hawaiian native shot the Eel with one round between the eyes.

Wet Down dropped a second with a burst from his MP5 as he pivoted left. Wet Suit dropped the next with a burst to the head.

The two Hydro-Vipers were holding two of the hostages at gunpoint, one of them holding a detonator in his other hand.

“Drop your weapons,” the one with the detonator said. “Drop them! You shoot me and I let go of this detonator and the whole room blows up!”

The SEALs glanced around. Barrels rigged with charges lined the room.

“Drop them!” the Hydro-Viper repeated.

Torpedo glanced toward Wet Suit. The other man gave an imperceptible nod.

“That’s not going to happen,” Torpedo replied. “What’s going to happen is, I will put a round at thirteen hundred feet per second into the medulla at the base of your brain. And you will be dead from the neck down before your body knows it. Your finger won't even twitch. Only you get dead. So, you feel lucky, punk?”

“Hey, fu”

Torpedo fired a single round straight into the Hydro-Viper’s neck before he could finish the word. A scant second later, Wet Suit fired his MP5, putting three rounds through the second Hydro-Viper’s head before he could finish pulling his trigger.

Both dropped to the floor, dead.

Torpedo immediately keyed his radio. “Nassau, Lima Six, all Cobras are down. Get the Marines here fast, we need EOD teams on station stat.”

''“Roger that, Lima Six. Marines en route now.”''

Torpedo safed his weapon and turned to Wet Down, “Cut the hostages free and move them, carefully, out of here.”

The junior man nodded and pulled out his combat knife and got to work.

Torpedo turned to Wet Suit. “Let’s get to work on those SAMs.”

Wet Suit nodded as Torpedo keyed his radio again. “Tracker, we have Marines on their way, move the hostages up to the top deck.”

“Copy that,” Tracker replied.

Torpedo and Wet Suit moved out on to the rig’s top deck toward the next SAM battery as four CH46 Sea Knight helicopters swept in toward the rig.

The lead helicopter moved to hover over the rig’s helipad, where a squad of Marines dropped ropes and fast-roped down to the rig. They quickly spread out, securing the helipad as the helicopter moved clear and the next one moved into position.

Within minutes a platoon of Marines was on the helipad and moving down on to the deck. Torpedo and Wet Suit changed direction and moved to meet the Marines.

A Sergeant was shouting at a squad of Marines as they approached. “I want these SAMs secured in five! Let’s go! Move, move!”

The sergeant turned toward Torpedo and Wet Suit. He had his rifle across his chest, but his hand on the grip.

“You guys the Joes?” he asked.

“Two of ‘em,” Torpedo answered. “We’ve got another guy leading hostages up from the lower levels and another freeing the hostages over there.”

Torpedo indicated the last room, “You’ll need an EOD team in there, Sarge, place is rigged with demo charges on oil drums.”

The sergeant nodded, “Right, I’ll get my team on it.”

As the Marine turned and began issuing more orders, Tracker arrived on the top deck leading the former hostages from below.

The Marines escorted the civilians into a large cafeteria, where three Navy Corpsmen began checking them over. The other Marines were working to dismantle the SAM batteries and the anti-ship missiles.

Torpedo led the Joes back down to the loading dock.

“Where are we going?” Wet Down asked.

“To recover the SHARCs,” Torpedo answered. “They are worth several million dollars, even if they were supposed to be retired…”