Search and Seizure on the High Seas

I was nervous boarding the H-46. Part of my anxiety had to do with the helo itself; I've never liked the damn things. A big part was the mission; boarding an Iraqi ship to determine whether or not its cargo violated UN sanctions. What if it did and the crew decided to fight? What if they just plain resented us being there and decided to become aggressive? I checked the other members of the team and found them to appear as nervous as I did. Only the team leader seemed relaxed. He was laughing at my discomfort with our transportation.

The helo settled on the fantail of the target. Thank God the deck was big enough to accept our bird; the idea of jumping from a hover was not my idea of fun. Quickly, the team moved forward. The entire crew of the vessel were gathered on deck, and we needed to secure them as quickly and quietly as possible. While the rest of the team herded the crew together, the team leader and squad leaders met with the vessel's captain on the bridge to review the manifest and get the ship's layout. Search assignments were made, and I led my squad off to inspect the cargo hold assigned to us. Our guides moved quickly, jabbering in Arabic and smiling as if to reassure us all was well. I tried to watch the turns we took, knowing my squad would be doing the same. It wouldn't pay to find ourselves lost within the hull of the vessel.

Entering the hold, the squad spread out with no direction from me. While the positions they took up appeared random, I knew each man would seeking his place from which to cover our guides as well as each other. Petty Officer Coen and I began the process of inspecting the contents of the hold, which was supposed to be limited to food and medical supplies. Nominally, that was all we saw. A closer inspection revealed antipersonnel mines and what appeared to Russin-made rocket propelled grenades. Careful not to tip off the crew as to our find, I gave a covert hand signal to the squad and continued with the inspection. Once we had inspected the entire hold, I picked up the radio to report.

I keyed the mike, called for the team leader and got static in response. Damn! Hoping the problem was merely too many steel decks between me and the team leader, I climbed halfway out of the hold to try and establish contact with the bridge. Petty Officer Coen casually placed himself at the bottom of the ladder to cover my back. Pressing the mike button, I tried again.

"Team Leader, Squad One," I said.

"Team Leader aye," came the response.

"Inspection complete, cargo is ok." Before boarding the ship, we had decided to use "cargo is ok" as the signal for contraband. We had no idea whether the crew spoke English, but it seemed nearly everyone in the world understood "ok." If they thought we had been fooled, we would have the element of surprise on our side.

"Say again, Squad One?"

"Cargo is ok, Team Leader."

"Roger. Return to the bridge, Squad One."

I returned to the hold to collect my squad. While they appeared bored, a closer inspection would have revealed that the shotgunners had eased their safeties off, and the rest had their hands resting on or near their .45's. I gathered my squad, and we set off for the bridge with our guides. We had given them no sign we had spotted the poorly hidden contraband, and they continued to jabber happily in their native tongue. Their first clue would come soon enough; for when our helo returned, it would not be to take us back, rather to deliver a squad of heavily armed Marines who would assist us in confiscating the ship.

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