Because they were part of the Network, the Hardys had access to the most sophisticated equipment put out by the US government. Anything the armed forces had, the Hardys could get a hold of it.
Deep under the waters of the Mediterranean Sea, the two quickly closed the distances between their dinghy and the yacht, clinging to underwater scooters that noiselessly made their way through the water.
"20 meters," Frank said, his voice tiny-sounding and his face hidden behind a full-length oxygen mask. The GPS unit on his wrist shone with an eerie green glow under the water.
"Copy that," Joe replied, a few yards behind his brother.
Dressed in all black to blend in with the water and the night, each man was equipped with two water-tight standard issued handguns, GPS units, high-powered satellite communication equipment, dive knives, water-proof flashlights, two extra air tanks and other various pieces of equipment.
Suddenly, Frank's GPS blinked on his watch and he brought his scooter to a stop. Above him, ten yards up, the bottom of the yacht loomed.
"Alright. You know your job. Let's get what we need and get the hell out." Frank said, swimming up to the bottom and attaching his scooter with a specialized tool. Joe gave him a thumbs up and pulled out two suction cups from a bag floating next to his scooter.
As his head broke the surface of the water, Joe removed his mask and looked up. This is going to be a really long climb, he thought glumly. Three stories high, the yacht was a lot larger up close. He looked for a passing guard and when he saw none, he reached up as high as he could and slammed the suction cup against the side of the yacht. Slowly, he began the long climb up the port side of the ship.
On the starboard side, Frank was making the same progress. However, he didn't have to go as far as Joe. Frank was looking for the cargo hold. From the blue prints, he remembered seeing an entrance to the cargo hold from the promenade on the starboard side. With luck, it'd be a quick mission.
When does luck ever go your way, Hardy? Frank thought.
"Hey Frank, next time – you get the longer climb," came Joe's voice in Frank's ear.
Frank grunted as a reply as he made it to the promenade deck. A quick look over the rail and Frank saw a guard walking away from right above where he was climbing.
Taking a deep breath, Frank swung his leg up and soundlessly slipped onto the deck. He waited to see if the guard noticed him and when the man didn't turn around Frank snuck up quietly behind him and hit him. He caught the man before he crashed to the deck and pulled the unconscious figure behind a stairwell.
"Joe, I'm onboard." Frank whispered.
"Fabulous, you may have the evidence before I even get close to stepping foot on board. Though letting go and falling from this height is probably not recommended," Joe replied in between grunts. Frank smirked.
"You mean to tell me you wouldn't swan dive off this rig if you had the chance?"
"I'd do it – with style too."
"Alright – I'm going off line. If you need me, just touch your mike." Frank didn't want to risk being heard whispering while he was sneaking down to the cargo hold.
"Yes Dad. I have done this before."
"I don't want to have to come back and save your ass again."
"Excuse me? Who saved who last time?"
"I believe I'm up three times to your once."
"Who's counting?"
"Me."
"Yeah yeah."
"Just be careful. Rendezvous in an hour and fifteen."
Frank shook his head and switched his mike to touch-only. He took a moment to orient himself then headed inside the nearest door.
~*~*~*~*~
Joe reminded himself, for the hundredth time, that he loved his job.
Who doesn't enjoy suction-cup climbing up a three-story ship, looking for evidence to capture a master criminal and saving the world? Joe thought, looking up. He had about a hundred feet to go. Making sure he wasn't anywhere near a porthole to be spotted, he continued his climb.
From the Gray Man's information, the ship was fairly empty of people, for a ship its size. There was Saffron, his personal guard of five very fierce, very big bodyguards, the crew of about forty men and no passengers. Joe was at least thankful for that – if they did have to destroy the ship, hopefully the body count wouldn't be very high.
Joe had gotten over the qualm of people dying on missions. He avoided it if at all possible, but some things were more important. Right, like the preservation of national security, Joe thought bitterly. He had yet to kill someone and didn't plan on it but he knew many different ways he could if it came down to it.
Unfortunately, Frank wasn't as lucky. Joe shoved that memory to the very back of his mind before it could completely resurface and focused on the task at hand.
As he reached to top of the deck, he checked to make sure he wasn't seen and climbed on board. He touched his throat-mike.
"I'm on board."
"Copy that." Came Frank's reply.
Now Joe just had to place the explosives. Just in case, he thought.