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.

Indian Commandos
This is the opening of my novel, “Hunt of the Sea Wolves.” These Indian Special Forces operatives are the kind of men who are fighting the terrorists in Mumbai that attacked hotels, hospitals and restaurants, killing more than 125 people. The story they’ve told of fighting the terrorists room by room through the hotels is dramatic and very similar to the action in Sea Wolves. I couldn’t have chosen a better group of real-world fighters to hunt down the terrorists in my fictional account of maritime terrorism. — John Chadwell