Shadow Tyrants

FIFTY-FIVE

The Gator sat just below the surface in the cross canal waiting for the Colossus 5 to pass. Linda was running the sub on battery power so they wouldn’t have to raise the snorkel, eliminating the chance of the diesel exhaust being seen by ships as they traversed the Suez. Though the sandstorm was raging farther to the south, here it was relatively calm but hazy. Knowing how bad the weather was going to be, the canal authorities had the ships that had entered the canal proceed to Great Bitter Lake to wait out the rest of the night.

“Here she comes,” said Linda, who was watching the camera feed from the periscope. “Looks like we’ve got a good four hundred yards between the Colossus 5 and the vessel behind it.” They’d identified the next ship as the German science research catamaran called the Arcturus.

“What’s the light level outside?” Juan asked.

“With all the dust in the air, I’d say we have ten minutes before total black. Should give us just the right amount of time to pull up alongside for your climb.”

“Any lights coming from the ship?”

“Running lights, but no spotlights.”

“Pull up next to the darkest part of the ship.”

“Aye, Chairman.”

They were planning to get aboard the same way they had in Cyprus, with magnetic grips, to scale the outer hull. With the low visibility, it was extremely unlikely they’d be spotted climbing up by anyone on the Arcturus.

“Let’s move,” Juan said.

Linda pushed the throttle forward and steered into the main body of the canal. The Gator was buffeted by the wake of the Colossus 5 as they approached it from the stern.

Juan tied a nylon rope between him, Murph, and Linc for Murph’s benefit. The weapons designer wasn’t the most athletic person on the ship, although he often turned the Oregon’s deck into a skateboard park on their R & R. Juan would lead the climb, followed by Murph, then Linc. All of them were armed with P90 submachine guns.

The Gator’s shuddering stopped when they left the Colossus 5’s wake and came along her port side.

“I can put you right below the superstructure,” Linda said.

“Perfect,” Juan said. “We can go through the cabin window instead of the interior hallways.”

The ship layouts in Lionel Gupta’s records showed that the cabin where Juan and Linda had broken out of the Colossus 3 was one of the luxurious staterooms designed for members of the Nine. It was in the same location on the Colossus 5. They could gain access to the cabin without the risk of using the stairs inside, and, according to Gupta, the back door self-destruct system would be accessible from it.

“What’s our distance to Great Bitter Lake?” he asked Linda.

“Thirty-one miles, and we’re making five knots. We won’t reach the twenty-mile range of the Colossus 5’s microwave transmitter for another two hours.”

Juan nodded. “That gives us plenty of time to get on board, activate the self-destruct, and get back down before they can link up all four biocomputers.”

Linda surfaced the sub with the deck barely above the canal’s choppy waves. Juan pushed the hatch open. A black cliff of steel rose above them.

He turned to Linda and said, “Tell Max to start his part of the mission.”

“Aye, Chairman,” she said, and started speaking into the radio.

Juan pulled himself through the hatch opening, attached the magnetic clamps to the hull, and began to climb.

When Max got word from Linda that they were a go, he ordered Eric to begin maneuvering the Oregon sideways across Great Bitter Lake using her thrusters. The raging storm had reduced visibility to zero, but to anyone watching on radar it would look like the Oregon was adrift and heading straight for the Colossus ships.

When they were within a half mile of the Colossus 1, Max hailed her from his seat in the command chair.

“Colossus 1, this is the Norego. Be advised our anchor failed and we are drifting in your direction.”

“We are also at anchor, Norego,” came the reply in heavily accented Chinese. “We cannot raise it fast enough to keep from colliding.”

“Our main engines are down for maintenance, but we are attempting to use thrusters to counteract the wind.”

“Understood, Norego. We are bracing for impact.”

When the Oregon had closed the gap to three hundred yards, Max called the captain of the Colossus 1 again.

“Captain, be advised that our thrusters have begun working and we are slowing down.”

“That’s good to hear, Norego. But we are ready if you can’t stop.”

When the Oregon was within sixty feet, Max ordered Eric to bring them to a halt.

“Good news, Captain,” Max reported. “Our secondary anchor arrested our drift. We’re holding station off your port bow with the help of our thrusters. We’ll push away from you as soon as our main engines are back online.”

The sandstorm was so dense at this point that visibility was down to thirty feet, and no one on the Colossus 1 ventured out on deck. Its superstructure was hidden from its own bow by the swirling dust.

“Understood, Norego. Please keep in contact and tell us when you are ready to move.”

“Affirmative, Colossus 1. Out.”

He looked at Eric and said, “Lower the gangway.”

Using the closed-circuit cameras and the lasers in the lidar system, which could beam through tiny gaps in the airborne sand, Eric activated the retractable gangway. It rose out of the deck and extended across to the bow of the Colossus 1, just as it had during the hijacking of the Triton Star.

When it was fully deployed, Max pressed the button connecting him to Eddie’s comm unit.

“The gangway is in place,” he said. “Good hunting.”

“Roger that,” Eddie said. “We’re on our way.”

Max watched as Eddie, Raven, MacD, and Hali dashed across the gangway. By the time they reached the opposite end, they were already out of sight.

Carlton looked out through the bridge windows of the Colossus 5, but he could barely make out the edges of the canal.

“What’s the situation with the Colossus 1?” he asked Chen, who stood next to him tapping on a touchscreen.

“The collision was averted,” Chen replied. “The storm is apparently causing havoc in Great Bitter Lake.”

“Are the microwave transmitters affected?”

Chen shook his head. “They’re still operating at an acceptable efficiency.”

“What’s our current distance?”

“Thirty miles,” Chen said.

Carlton smiled and could barely resist rubbing his hands together in glee. “Then we’re ready to link up?”

“Yes, sir.”

Carlton had been impressed with Chen’s initiative. Unknown to Gupta, during the wait for the new satellite dish Chen was able to increase the power of the shipboard microwave transmitter from twenty to thirty miles, meaning they were now in range to connect all four ships together and let Colossus begin the process of reaching its full potential.

“Establish the connection,” Carlton said, beaming with pride at his accomplishment. “It’s time for our brainchild to start learning.”