Chapter One from my novel, "Hunt of the Sea Wolves"
“With such insufficient maritime power, it is clear that Indonesia simply cannot secure the 600-mile Strait of Malacca alone, but its fear of any perceived challenge to its sovereignty, as well as its concern of American imperialism, apparently overrides military logic.” - Washington-based Institute for the Analysis of Global Security (IAGS)
Greek astronomer, mathematician, and geographer, Claudius Ptolemaeus (87 – 150 AD), made one of the earliest references to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, which were inhabited for centuries primarily by the Great Andamanese, who collectively represented the various tribes: Jarawa, Jangil, Onge, and the Sentinelese.
The island chain first fell under European rule when the Danish East India Company arrived in the 1750s. For more than three centuries, pirates have plied the waters around these islands mainly because of their proximity to the northern entrance of the Strait of Malacca, the main trade route to the Far East.
Today was no different, but this time the pirates were in a fight for their lives as a pitched battle raged aboard the small inter-island freighter. The ship drifted dead in the water within sight of a small island, one of the five hundred seventy-two-islands in the Andaman and Nicobar archipelago, a territory of India. The rusting freighter was on fire from stem to stern. A ragged-looking gang of thirty Asian marauders fought determinedly against the eighteen Indian Marine Commando Force, or MARCOS, operators.
The pirates, armed with ancient weapons, ranging from shotguns to a Thompson submachine gun, left behind by some nameless American soldier in an equally nameless conflict somewhere in Southeast Asia, to an assortment of machetes and spears, were being forced across the burning decks toward the bow.
As the operators who were already aboard the ship pushed relentlessly forward, others fast- roped down to the deck from a hovering Sea King Mk 42C helicopter. The pirate with the shotgun fired up at one of the operators as he slid down the heavy rope, holding on with one hand and his legs, and firing his Sterling MP-4 sub-machine gun.
The heavy shotgun slugs hit the operator below his armored vest, cutting him in half. His upper torso hit the deck, while his legs fell into the sea. His last fleeting thought was to kill the man who killed him. But his strength quickly waned and his vision dimmed as his blood flowed across a cargo hold hatch.
The weapon slipped from his fingers as another operator hit the deck and pulled his dying comrade’s body behind a winch motor. With one last look and a squeeze on the dying man’s shoulder, the operator eased his friend into death.
He stood and steadied himself against a cargo boom mast. In a single effortless motion, he slipped off a sleek, high-tech carbon compound bow, pulled an aluminum arrow with a razor-edged, cyanide-tipped head, and sent it streaking across the ship into the chest of the man who had killed his friend.
The pirate with the Thompson fired up at the helicopter. Three holes stitched the side just below the pilot. He jerked the controls, causing the chopper to bank sharply and disappeared into the night sky.
At six feet two, Captain Anumita Roy Vajpayee led a corporal and a sergeant through the flames, as he fired his MP-5 sub-machine gun, killing two of the pirates as he sprinted up the starboard ladder to the next deck.
They spread out inside the starboard passageway. The corporal kicked in a wooden door, stepped into the mess decks, and was nearly decapitated as a crazed-looking Chinese pirate swung a rusted saber at him. The young operator froze, just as Captain Vajpayee shoved him aside and shot the man twice through the heart and once between the eyes. The old pirate dropped at the corporal’s feet.
Sergeant Bhupad Ali stepped into the room behind Captain Vajpayee. At the opposite end of the room, two more pirates stood over a huddled group of the ship’s terrified crew, who were sprawled face down on the deck. Before the two operators could react, one of the pirates calmly shot the man at his feet in the back. The other pirate touched the muzzle of his weapon against a boy’s neck. His finger started to squeeze the trigger then his hand jerked spasmodically and the rifle clattered to the floor as a hollow-point bullet ripped into his face.
For the fraction of a second that he had left to live, the other pirate did not comprehend why his friend was on his back staring up at him without a face. Then he turned and glanced at a porthole to his right. He saw the neat, round bullet hole. He squinted focusing on the small hole, then as his eyes opened wider and refocused, he saw the sniper outside standing on a small helo-landing platform on the stern of the ship.
The pirate knew he was a dead man before the sniper took his second shot. He started to cry out to the God who he had cursed his entire life as the heavy round shattered the porthole and then struck him in the mouth. The sniper, Corporal Abdul-Baari Singh, chambered another round with satisfaction.
Not inclined to taking prisoners, the operators had dispatched all of the pirates before the sun’s first rays appeared over the horizon. As the last marine operative stepped aboard the hovering helo, a small boat out of the capital city of Port Blair heaved to and froe in the swells just beyond the cordon of police patrol boats.
One of the scuba divers vacationing from Australia struggled to keep his footing while aiming his Sony camcorder, capturing the Sea King as it departed from the smoldering hulk.
In a world of instant linkups and wireless networks, it was only a matter of racing back to Port Blair and the Sainik Vishram Ghar hotel, where he could call the local BBC News outlet and stream the video to them in New Delhi.
Within an hour after receiving the amateur footage, the BBC affiliate was airing it throughout the Asia Pacific, Australasia, and South Asia Middle East. A BBC newsman’s voice over declared, “Indian anti-terrorist Special Forces were able to thwart the efforts of a reputed Aceh rebel cell that has been terrorizing shipping lanes in the area, stealing entire cargos, killing the crews, and setting the ships adrift.”
The dizzying footage was replaced by the image of a stately British official, identified as Sir Thomas Burkenshire, whose sound bite forewarned, “Modern piracy as a terrorist weapon has been neglected far too long and it will come back to haunt every civilized nation.”
Greek astronomer, mathematician, and geographer, Claudius Ptolemaeus (87 – 150 AD), made one of the earliest references to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, which were inhabited for centuries primarily by the Great Andamanese, who collectively represented the various tribes: Jarawa, Jangil, Onge, and the Sentinelese.
The island chain first fell under European rule when the Danish East India Company arrived in the 1750s. For more than three centuries, pirates have plied the waters around these islands mainly because of their proximity to the northern entrance of the Strait of Malacca, the main trade route to the Far East.
Today was no different, but this time the pirates were in a fight for their lives as a pitched battle raged aboard the small inter-island freighter. The ship drifted dead in the water within sight of a small island, one of the five hundred seventy-two-islands in the Andaman and Nicobar archipelago, a territory of India. The rusting freighter was on fire from stem to stern. A ragged-looking gang of thirty Asian marauders fought determinedly against the eighteen Indian Marine Commando Force, or MARCOS, operators.
The pirates, armed with ancient weapons, ranging from shotguns to a Thompson submachine gun, left behind by some nameless American soldier in an equally nameless conflict somewhere in Southeast Asia, to an assortment of machetes and spears, were being forced across the burning decks toward the bow.
As the operators who were already aboard the ship pushed relentlessly forward, others fast- roped down to the deck from a hovering Sea King Mk 42C helicopter. The pirate with the shotgun fired up at one of the operators as he slid down the heavy rope, holding on with one hand and his legs, and firing his Sterling MP-4 sub-machine gun.
The heavy shotgun slugs hit the operator below his armored vest, cutting him in half. His upper torso hit the deck, while his legs fell into the sea. His last fleeting thought was to kill the man who killed him. But his strength quickly waned and his vision dimmed as his blood flowed across a cargo hold hatch.
The weapon slipped from his fingers as another operator hit the deck and pulled his dying comrade’s body behind a winch motor. With one last look and a squeeze on the dying man’s shoulder, the operator eased his friend into death.
He stood and steadied himself against a cargo boom mast. In a single effortless motion, he slipped off a sleek, high-tech carbon compound bow, pulled an aluminum arrow with a razor-edged, cyanide-tipped head, and sent it streaking across the ship into the chest of the man who had killed his friend.
The pirate with the Thompson fired up at the helicopter. Three holes stitched the side just below the pilot. He jerked the controls, causing the chopper to bank sharply and disappeared into the night sky.
At six feet two, Captain Anumita Roy Vajpayee led a corporal and a sergeant through the flames, as he fired his MP-5 sub-machine gun, killing two of the pirates as he sprinted up the starboard ladder to the next deck.
They spread out inside the starboard passageway. The corporal kicked in a wooden door, stepped into the mess decks, and was nearly decapitated as a crazed-looking Chinese pirate swung a rusted saber at him. The young operator froze, just as Captain Vajpayee shoved him aside and shot the man twice through the heart and once between the eyes. The old pirate dropped at the corporal’s feet.
Sergeant Bhupad Ali stepped into the room behind Captain Vajpayee. At the opposite end of the room, two more pirates stood over a huddled group of the ship’s terrified crew, who were sprawled face down on the deck. Before the two operators could react, one of the pirates calmly shot the man at his feet in the back. The other pirate touched the muzzle of his weapon against a boy’s neck. His finger started to squeeze the trigger then his hand jerked spasmodically and the rifle clattered to the floor as a hollow-point bullet ripped into his face.
For the fraction of a second that he had left to live, the other pirate did not comprehend why his friend was on his back staring up at him without a face. Then he turned and glanced at a porthole to his right. He saw the neat, round bullet hole. He squinted focusing on the small hole, then as his eyes opened wider and refocused, he saw the sniper outside standing on a small helo-landing platform on the stern of the ship.
The pirate knew he was a dead man before the sniper took his second shot. He started to cry out to the God who he had cursed his entire life as the heavy round shattered the porthole and then struck him in the mouth. The sniper, Corporal Abdul-Baari Singh, chambered another round with satisfaction.
Not inclined to taking prisoners, the operators had dispatched all of the pirates before the sun’s first rays appeared over the horizon. As the last marine operative stepped aboard the hovering helo, a small boat out of the capital city of Port Blair heaved to and froe in the swells just beyond the cordon of police patrol boats.
One of the scuba divers vacationing from Australia struggled to keep his footing while aiming his Sony camcorder, capturing the Sea King as it departed from the smoldering hulk.
In a world of instant linkups and wireless networks, it was only a matter of racing back to Port Blair and the Sainik Vishram Ghar hotel, where he could call the local BBC News outlet and stream the video to them in New Delhi.
Within an hour after receiving the amateur footage, the BBC affiliate was airing it throughout the Asia Pacific, Australasia, and South Asia Middle East. A BBC newsman’s voice over declared, “Indian anti-terrorist Special Forces were able to thwart the efforts of a reputed Aceh rebel cell that has been terrorizing shipping lanes in the area, stealing entire cargos, killing the crews, and setting the ships adrift.”
The dizzying footage was replaced by the image of a stately British official, identified as Sir Thomas Burkenshire, whose sound bite forewarned, “Modern piracy as a terrorist weapon has been neglected far too long and it will come back to haunt every civilized nation.”
posted by John Chadwell | 4:34 PM
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