Page 242 of Hidden Tide
The response boat draws alongside the Argent Star.
Mark fires a grappling line onto the lower rail. John secures a second line while Piers checks the breathing equipment attached to his vest.
Scott looks directly into his body camera.
“Calle.”
I step closer to the monitor.
“Tell Ben we’re coming.”
“I’ll tell him.”
The four SEALs move.
They cross the water one at a time, using the lines to pull themselves toward the opening in the hull.
Scott enters first.
His body camera disappears beneath the surface.
For three seconds, I see only bubbles and twisted steel.
Then he breaks through the damaged hull.
The cargo deck is almost dark. Red emergency lights flash through the rising water.
Mark, John and Piers enter behind him.
“Ben!” Scott shouts.
No answer.
They spread out.
Scott moves toward the center passage. Water already reaches his waist.
Broken crates and pieces of metal float past him. The ship groans as the current drives it closer to the rocks.
“Blood,” Piers says.
His camera lowers.
A dark streak covers the edge of the inner hatch.
My stomach turns.
“Could be from one of the crew,” John says.
Piers touches the metal.
“Fresh.”
Scott follows the blood into the passage.
“Ben!”
A faint sound comes from beyond a collapsed section of wall.
