Brothers Of War

Chapter 4: Mako

4

Mako

The light rain sounded like the rustle of leaves in a forest as the rain drops hit the sea. On the dock nearby were trucks, parked along the wooden strip. In them, men carrying boxes moved in a pattern, loading the cargo onto a large ship. The ship bobbed and swayed in the mildly rough swells. fifty feet or so off the beach emerged two figures. They were clothed in black wet suits with tube-like NVGs down on their face. They were Navy S.E.A.L.s, America's most widely known elite team of individuals. They watched the scene from the water. Everything was tinted green to them, allowing them to observe the activity on the dock without being scene in the process. They were veiled by the dark waters. It was 00:00 hours, midnight.

The two Seals swam slowly and made there way to the beach. They made sure to crouch when the water was shallow enough to stand in order to keep most of their bodies underwater. When they reached the beach their footsteps went unheard. The two took cover behind a large crate, one man stood just feet from them watching for anything suspicious. He was a guard, and his back was towards the sea. There was nothing militaristic about him. He wore cargo pants and a t-shirt. His bald head was covered with a baseball cap that had a Russian baseball team on it. Fitting, since they were in Magadan, a small port city on the most northeastern tip of Russia.

"Mako, take him out." The earpiece in Mako's ear told him even though he could hear his partner speak right next to him. Mako peeked from behind the crate and saw the tall Russian standing, facing away from him, holding a G3. Mako held a traditional M4 but dropped it to hang on its sling to unsheathe his combat knife. Normally such a job could be handled by the silenced M9 holstered on his leg but even with the gunshot muffled Mako didn't know if there were more men in the vicinity close enough to hear it. He advanced, stepping out of cover to walk slowly, quietly, towards the man. Mako had no feelings towards what he was about to do, it was just his job. Every step was life threatening but he made sure that his movement was inaudible to the ear. Within a foot of the man he had successfully gotten without alerting him and in one swift movement he grabbed the man, covering his mouth with his left hand, and burying the six inch steel blade deep within his throat. There was no scream, just a slight gagging sound muffled by his hand and the sound of flesh being split. Blood ran over Mako's gloved hand but he didn't care. He slowly lowered the body onto the sand and rested it behind another crate.

"Target eliminated. Moving on. Mako out." He spoke in a whisper. Nobody else seemed to be around which was weird. Why would they only have one guard by the beach? His partner was Staff Sergeant Stephen Linen, Mako had just met him a few weeks back. He was a replacement for a casualty from three weeks ago in Iran. Mako's name was Andrew Moger, a city boy from Miami. As a kid, he always liked to sneak around and scare people for fun, now look where all that sneaking got him. His personal call sign is Mako for a reason. Just like a shark, he belonged in the water. Moger always felt uncomfortable when he was too far inland, he enjoyed the smell of bodies of water. Even in the dense concrete jungle of Miami he always made time to go visit the beach and swim off the Atlantic coast of Florida. He also enjoyed hot weather, and northern Russia did not supply him with that comfort.

Staff Sergeant Linen made his way to Mako's crate slowly. "What do we got?" He was bigger than Mako, towering over him at six foot five. Mako was a mere six foot. He was tall, but much shorter than Linen nonetheless. Mako was a Lieutenant and the leader of Strike Force 109 or "SF109."

"There's a checkpoint not too far north from here. We wait there for another truck to come by." Linen nodded and awaited orders. Mako stood and they made their way to the checkpoint. It didn't take them long to find it, the area was well lit with tall lights. The two took cover just behind the small building that held a man in a yellow vest. He was leaning on the counter and sipping coffee, probably trying to stay awake so late. The speaker near his arm buzzed to life for a second.