The Emperor's Revenge

THIRTY-THREE

Juan raced through the secret passageway, leaving Gretchen to close the hidden door behind him. The thick concrete of the old Soviet building made getting a cell phone signal tricky, but he finally had a connection. The Oregon’s line was ringing.

As soon as Hali picked up, Juan said, “Put me through to Max, Hali.”

“Aye, Chairman.” There was a pause before Hali came back. “Max wants to know if it can wait.”

It wasn’t like Max to blow him off. “What’s happening?”

“We’re in the middle of a fight with the Achilles.”

It’s just what Juan had feared. “Put Max on right now.”

“Aye, sir.” Another pause.

Max came on the line.

“You picked a doozy of a time to call, my friend.” Even though Max sounded calm, Juan could detect the strain of battle in his voice. “The Achilles has a railgun.”

“I know,” Juan said. “We found the engineering specs. Any damage to the Oregon?”

“Not yet. But they did a number on the Narwhal.”

“You have to get out of there if you can.”

“Too late for that. I’ve already fired two Exocets, and Golov swatted them out of the sky like they were gnats. We can’t tell how he’s doing it. He didn’t use missiles of his own, and there are no tracers from a Gatling gun.”

“He has a solid-state laser weapon system.”

Max whistled. “That explains it.”

“And don’t bother with torpedoes, either. The Achilles is equipped with mini-torpedoes that can intercept our heavy torpedoes.”

“Also too late. Sonar shows the two I launched exploding two thousand yards from the target. We’re pretty much screwed, aren’t we?”

Juan burst into Zakharin’s office.

“Maybe not,” he said, and grabbed the admiral by the lapel, dragging him to the desk. He threw the folder down and tossed his phone to Eddie. “Show me where the disarming code is.”

Gretchen closed the entrance to the passageway, and Linc stood by the office door.

“What? I don’t know what you’re—”

“Yes, you do. For every weapon you mount on these clients’ ships, you install hidden disarming codes into the software that can be received by a radio signal so these specially outfitted ships won’t be used against the Russian Navy. I know because we found the code you planted on the Oregon. Now, I’m sure you hid one in the Achilles software, too. Tell me where it is in this pile of papers.”

“I can’t…”

“I don’t have time to mess around with this.” Juan yanked the Colt Defender from Linc’s hand and pushed the barrel against Zakharin’s temple. “After you’re dead, they can come take me away. But either you tell me what the code is in the next ten seconds or I put a bullet in your brain.”

Zakharin sneered. “You’re bluffing.”

Juan cocked the hammer. “My ship is about to be sunk. If that happens, you’re a dead man… One!”

Zakharin began to nervously flip through the file.

“Two!”

“I can’t remember where—”

“Three!”

“Chairman,” Eddie said.

“Four! What?”

“Hali says they’re being fired upon.”

Hard aport!” Max yelled. “Full power astern!”

The Achilles had fired its railgun two seconds ago. Now that the Oregon was only twelve miles away, it would take the shell just six seconds to hit.

He counted down in his head as the ship slewed around. Four seconds later, the Oregon was rocked by a sonic boom that blew out the windows on the bridge as the projectile buzzed past them. Like he had with the Narwhal, the captain of the distant yacht had targeted the superstructure to take out all the controls and crew simultaneously.

Max had bet on the tactic. The main disadvantage of the railgun was that its round was a dumb weapon. It was essentially a cannon shell and couldn’t adjust course in flight, unlike a guided missile. The unique agility and speed of the Oregon was the only thing that kept it from being struck.

But Max knew Golov wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He’d aim for the hull next time. The Gatling guns and Metal Storm array were useless against such a high-velocity weapon.

“Eric, full speed ahead. Random evasive maneuvers.”

The Oregon’s hull was armor-plated, but it couldn’t repel rounds of that energy. If one of them pierced an ammo magazine, the entire ship would go up in a blast that would break it in two. And if it hit the engine room, they’d be dead in the water.

“Another shot!” Linda shouted.

“All back! Hard astarboard!”

Eric masterfully swung the ship again.

Max counted.

This time, they weren’t so lucky. Although the round missed the hull, it sliced right through the amidships crane, one of the two that were operational. The base blew apart and the steel rigging fell onto the deck, leaving a gash in the steel, before tumbling over the side.

Max looked at Hali, huddling with Murph. They had Juan on the line. Max had heard him demanding the disarming code from the Russian admiral, the same kind of code Murph himself had removed from the Oregon’s software.

“Tell me Juan’s got some magic trick up his sleeve,” Max said.

“Working on it” was all Murph would say.

“Shot’s away!” Linda called out.

“Full speed ahead!”

Max braced himself as the Oregon lurched forward.

Six seconds later, the ship was jolted by an explosion that nearly threw Max out of his chair.

“Damage report!”

Linda checked the closed-circuit cameras. “Looks like they got us in the forward hold. It’s above the waterline, so we don’t have flooding, but the missile battery is off-line.”

“Permanently?”

“Can’t say yet.”

“We can’t take much more pounding like this,” Max said. “Murph, give me some good news.”

“The admiral spilled his guts,” Hali said as Murph furiously tapped at his keyboard. “He’s broadcasting the disarming signal now.”

Max held his breath to see if it worked. He knew ShadowFoe’s reputation as a programmer, so it was possible she had removed the disarming code.

They’d know soon enough. Because the next round from the Achilles would be the kill shot.