Saved

Chapter 1, SAVED

Chapter One

Alarms sounded and buzzed over and over, louder and louder. Footsteps pounded up the stairwells and ladders as emergency lights flashed in the passageways. The five-hundred-foot guided missile destroyer cut a wide path through the waters of the Northern Arabian Gulf, and the roar of the engines against the power of the water slapping and vibrating against the steel hull had his every instinct buzzing and ready to react in an instant. The speed of this ship could let them easily overtake their enemy. Captain Eric Hamilton braced his hand on the wall as he ducked his head, making his way onto the bridge of his ship, the USS Larsen. Hamilton took everything in as he moved, and his crew snapped to attention. He shouted, he commanded and ordered, and he didn't ever consider whether he'd hurt someone's feelings. This was the US Navy—he didn't coddle his crew. He expected loyalty, and his crew would do what he expected or they'd find themselves on the wrong side of a man whom many feared. Oddly, knowing how he was seen by his crew didn't bother him at all.

By the time he crossed the bridge, the hair on the back of his neck was poking up like sharp wires that sent a chill through him, a warning that kept him on his toes. It was a warning that had saved his butt time and again, a warning he lived by, and he swore he'd die before ever ignoring it. The crew were on edge, alert. He could always pick up the change in their voices. They shouted above the alarm that continued to buzz over and over, their eyes wide. With an instinctive reaction at the snap of his fingers, his crew jumped as one to respond. Eric could feel the adrenaline pumping from all of them. Everyone was at their stations. Even though the humidity was at an all-time high this early in the day, he knew the beads of sweat trailing down his back and soaking his shirt were from the unknown that they were racing into. This damn war around them kept him pumped and his adrenaline surging like a shot of high caffeine. He lived for it and couldn't imagine any other way. To him, this was normal. He loved this, life and death, power in his hands and under his command.

By the time he reached the windows spanning the width of the bridge, binoculars had been thrust into his hand. Up until now, he hadn't said one word, as his officers knew their parts and their roles.

"Captain, there's a raft just off the starboard side. Can't tell from here whether there's anyone or anything on it." Lieutenant Commander Joe Reed approached from behind. The man was Eric's good friend and the current XO, executive officer, on this deployment.

He didn't need to turn as he raised the binoculars and zeroed in on a black dinghy that appeared empty at first sight as it rocked up and over the waves. For a minute, he felt sick, and his pulse pounded harder and faster still when the thought of the USS Cole bombing popped into his head. No, it couldn't be that again. He wouldn't let it happen.

He glanced at Joe beside him. "What the hell are we walking into?"

Joe shook his head. He was never one to talk out of turn or to guess. Joe was Eric's right-hand man and more often than not was the voice of reason among him and the crew—and just about everyone else.

Eric raised the binoculars again and stared at the black dinghy. He didn't know what he expected.

"We have no reports of a ship in distress in the area, Captain," announced the communications officer.

Eric squinted, thinking. "What about fishing boats?" he snapped.

"No, sir, no reports."

Looking once more at his first officer, he dreaded what he needed to do. "Send out a rescue team to check it out," he barked as he handed the binoculars off to one of the crew members and strode off the bridge, digging into each step, heading directly to the ship's launch. The crew hurried around him, feet pounding the deck. All of them knew their roles, what was expected, and there was no hesitation. Joe jogged up beside him, and they watched as the small rigid hull of the rescue boat, with its team aboard, splashed into the water and sped off toward the dinghy.