Where the Ghosts Lie

Chapter One

The Russian cargo ship rocked gently in the calm Indian Ocean, the port side dipping down every so often over the white-tipped waves. The sky was black, speckled with the occasional star and the bright moon shimmered over the water.

A black military dinghy crept up on the vessel ten miles away, filled with five Navy SEALs. Nolan Clay fiddled with his comm system clipped to the strap of his vest as he sat in the middle seat. He could barely make out the shape of the cargo ship ahead.

"Getting antsy there, Clay?"

Nolan glanced behind him to see Trenton Reeves tightening his belt and adjusting his black mask.

Nolan gave lofty chuckle. "Nothing phases me anymore, Reeves."

"Right. Nothing except that conversation between you and the captain yesterday." Reeves laughed and clapped Nolan on the helmet.

Nolan was less than amused. "Nah, the captain doesn't bother me. All I was saying is that I could've completed this mission on my own with my eyes closed."

Amusement glimmered in Reeve's eye as he yanked on his mask. "Look, I know you don't support this operation, but try not to do anything stupid, okay?"

Nolan cocked a slight grin. "Me? Stupid? Never."

Reeves shrugged. "Well it wouldn't be the first time you disobeyed orders because you thought you knew best."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're starting to sound like Captain Davis himself."

They fell silent as they drew near to the ship. Its wide body was impressive, especially against the small Navy dingy. Multicolored crates were stacked high on deck, towering high above the dark waters below.

Adrenaline made Nolan's insides quiver as the point men cast their hooks over the side of the ship. Quietly, the team clipped themselves to the cable wire and began scaling the broad surface of the ship. Nolan waited impatiently as the three men ahead of him took their precious time moving up.

Finally, he was on his way to the top. He pressed his rubber boots firmly in place after each step and swung himself over the railing onto the deck.

A voice crackled in his ear. "Are we a go, SEAL Team 7?"

Another voice, the commander of the squad, answered. "Go affirmative."

Nolan looked up at the sky. He could faintly see the blink of a helicopter above the clouds.

There was a faint pop and the glass around captain's area above the main deck shattered. The captain, or whoever was unlucky enough to be in there, was dead, and the team was ready to move in.

Nolan shook his head to himself. This was a pointless suicide mission. Apparently the military had picked up radio chatter that there was a group of Bolshevik terrorists on board the cargo ship, as well as its leader, Dimyan Egor. The chopper in the air was going to take out most of the other terrorists while Nolan's group extracted the leader to be held hostage for questioning. It seemed like a good plan, but it wasn't like Egor would come willingly. Or unarmed. Russian terrorists were smart, and they wouldn't be moving locations on a cargo ship without being prepared for some kind of military attack.

Nolan had confronted Captain Davis multiple times before the mission to simply bomb the entire ship. Easy. A dead Bolshevik leader was sure to hurt the rest of the group around the world. Captain Davis, however, refused to even listen to Nolan's reasoning.

Nolan moved with his group along the railing of the deck and they went underneath the first floor, guns raised. Nolan ran a finger over the trigger of his DMR that he'd affectionately named Flo.