The Steel Shark

Chapter 52

White water fountained higher than the Roc’s top deck. The explosion pushed the front of the ship up. It crashed back against the water with a terrific boom. That torpedo had found its mark.

“Oorah!” shouted Marshall.

Bob, one of the other men on the sub, laughed.

They were treating this like a giant video game. But at least they weren’t running away.

Joe had set up his laptop on the bridge, back to the wall and eyes averted from the windows. He watched the sonar readout of the sub and the torpedoes in real time. In the drone footage, figures boiled out onto the Roc’s deck like ants whose anthill had just been damaged.

Joe glanced at the tiny green window on his screen that was dedicated to monitoring Vivian’s transponder. The window was silent. If she was out there, he couldn’t tell. He knew it was crazy optimism that kept him going. But crazy optimism was better than nothing.

Edison was unruffled by the explosions and yelling. He sat by Joe’s side, his head in Joe’s lap and his brown eyes locked on Joe’s face.

“It’ll be fine,” Joe told him. He hoped that was true.

The Roc had started to take on water and list to the side. People spilled over into the ocean.

“Can we get them?” he asked Marshall.

“Let the sub stop firing first,” Marshall called over his shoulder. “We won’t be doing them any favors if we get sunk, too.”

Joe saw the logic, but he wondered how many of those figures could swim and how many would survive long enough for his ship to reach them.

Another torpedo was loosed. Another explosion under the Roc, this time amidships. Water heaved the giant ship up and smashed it down against the surface of the sea like a giant hand. Smoke billowed out of a crack in the massive deck.

Joe imagined the women in the submarine must be cheering.

Except for Vivian.

The Roc lurched to the side and did not right herself. The massive ship was fatally wounded. She shuddered and wallowed. It was clear that she would not recover.

One red lifeboat launched from the vessel’s side and splashed into the sea below. The boat was fully enclosed, so Joe couldn’t even begin to guess how many people were inside. Certainly not everyone on the ship. But at least some of them.

In areas where the smoke had cleared, debris and bodies churned. Soon, the Siren would be satisfied with the Roc’s destruction. Soon, he and his men could help those bodies in the sea.

But not yet.

The Roc was wounded, but not yet helpless. She launched a pair of torpedoes at the Siren. On sonar, Joe watched them shoot through the water toward the round black submarine.

The Siren was already diving toward the edge of his sonar range. The torpedoes exploded deep underwater, but Joe couldn’t calculate if they had been close enough to damage the submarine.

The Siren headed for the bottom. He couldn’t tell if the sub was sinking, or if it was a cleverly controlled descent. Almost off his sonar, the sub kept falling. If Vivian was alive, she was beyond anyone’s reach now.

Joe closed his eyes and bowed his head. Edison whimpered. They had lost her.

Marshall steered them toward the sinking ship. The drone captured the ship, in two pieces now, slipping down toward the bottom. She would not shoot another torpedo. The Siren, too, was in full flight.

All that remained was picking up the survivors. As much as Joe had ached to help them before, now he felt only numbness. The person he wanted most to survive hadn’t. Vivian’s survival had been a remote hope, a foolish hope, but it died hard all the same.

“The helicopter!” Marshall shouted.

The helicopter lifted off the tilting front deck. It held only the pilot and a single man in the backseat. Empty seats that could have gone to survivors surrounded him. A man ran across the deck toward the helicopter and collapsed. A second later, Joe heard the gunshot. Whoever was on board that helicopter wasn’t interested in helping the others on the ship.

Joe’s drone footage showed another man atop the ship. He’d climbed to the top of the topmost deck, where he yanked at the EMP device. He smashed it with a metal device. Joe brought the drone in closer. The man was trying to pry the device free with a crowbar.

But why? It was certainly heavy enough to sink him. No other lifeboats had launched, so there was no chance he’d be able to bring it to one of them. Seemingly oblivious, the man worked doggedly. Even as the ship sank underneath him, he tore wires loose, pried at the edge of the coil.

He was ready to die to remove the device from the roof. Joe admired his single-minded focus, even as he felt the man would be better off trying to find a way to get off the ship alive.

Finally, the man worked the EMP device free.

And the helicopter rose to meet him.

No longer worried about being spotted, Joe flew the drone closer to the helicopter, hovering outside the side window. The drone shuddered in the prop wash, but before it was bounced away, Joe recognized Prince Timgad sitting in the backseat. The prince had shot the man who’d tried to board. They were hundreds of miles from shore, but maybe the helicopter’s range extended that far. Perhaps he would make it to safety.

The prince gesticulated to the man on the roof, and the helicopter closed in. The prince gestured for the man to throw the device, but the man shook his head. Eventually, the prince threw him a rope, and the man climbed aboard with the device tied to his back.

Joe expected them to make for the shore, but the helicopter didn’t. Instead, it turned toward the lifeboat. Maybe they intended to pick up survivors and fly them to safety. Maybe the king was in there waiting.

A series of splashes stitched the water toward the red lifeboat.

The helicopter was firing on it.

“Take over!” Marshall yelled to Billy. “I’m going to the gun locker.”

As if it had heard the words, the helicopter swung toward them.

Whoever was aboard that chopper clearly intended to leave no witnesses.

“Tesla! Take cover!” shouted Marshall.

Edison pushed up against Joe’s leg, trying to herd him out of the exposed bridge and back into the tunnel.

“Heel,” Joe said. The dog heeled.

Marshall would never get to the gun locker in time.

Joe picked up the crossbow.

He backed out of the bridge and into his makeshift tunnel. The canvas didn’t provide cover against bullets, but at least the shooter in the helicopter couldn’t see him.

Joe sprinted down the tube to the tent he’d set up mid-deck by the drones. He studied the helicopter’s rotors. They spun so quickly they were blurred into a single disk shape. He recalled from a long-ago video game that it was called the rotor disk.

The man in the helicopter was firing at the Voyager’s bridge. Joe hoped Billy was safe. He didn’t want another death on his conscience.

Marshall ran full pelt from the other end of the ship, dodging Joe’s canvas tunnels and tents. The helicopter gunman switched its fire to Marshall, who dove for the deck.

Joe took a deep breath. Edison whimpered.

“Sit,” Joe said. “And stay.”

Joe studied the helicopter. With any luck, he’d hit a main rotor blade. He pivoted so the bow and arrow and his arms were outside. Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he lined up on the middle of the rotor disk. He let the arrow fly and moved back inside before his body had time to panic.

He stepped back from the edge of the tent and watched.

His arrow flew straight for twenty (blue, black) yards, entered the rotor disk, and struck a blade. The arrow glanced off the first blade and embedded itself in the next one. The helicopter juddered, spun in a half circle, and crashed straight into the water.

Joe stared, open-mouthed. He hadn’t expected one arrow to be that successful.

Marshall whooped from across the deck and jogged over.

“Nice shooting, Tex!” he said. “Biggest thing I ever took out was a six-foot shark, and it fought me for hours.”

“Do you think they survived the crash?” Joe didn’t want to think that he had taken lives.

“Maybe.” Marshall shrugged. “Most important thing is that we did.”

Joe’s knees went out from under him, and he sat down hard on the deck. They had survived. But not all of them. Vivian was gone. And what about the men in the helicopter? Was he a murderer?

Marshall went to the side of the boat, shouting directions up to Billy, directing him toward a group of survivors.

Joe thought about Vivian, gone, and stared at the deck. He had only a few minutes to pull it together before he had to help the victims of the shipwreck. It was time to save lives instead of taking them.

Edison grabbed his hand between his teeth and tugged. At first, Joe thought the dog was pulling him away from the light, but he quickly realized Edison was tugging him toward the bank of computer monitors Joe had set up to watch the drones and the sonar feed.

The little green window was flashing, and the monitor was beeping. Uncomprehending, Joe gaped. Even if he couldn’t believe it, he knew what that sound meant.

Vivian’s transponder was transmitting.

“She’s up,” Joe shouted. “In the water.”

As incoherent as that sounded, Marshall seemed to understand, because he sprinted straight for the bridge. Joe followed through his tunnels. Holes pockmarked the tunnel. The prince had come much closer to killing him than he’d realized.

The deck moved under Joe’s feet. Marshall had beat him to the bridge and was aiming for something.

Joe studied the screens. Nothing. He brought the drone down low and skimmed it across the tops of the waves.

Just because her transponder was beeping, it didn’t meant that she was alive. He pushed that unwelcome thought aside and worked the drone in a circle, searching.

The drone spotted two (blue) figures in yellow emergency suits. Joe moved in closer. The front swimmer was towing the other, but awkwardly, stroking with one hand.

“Vivian!” Joe shouted.

Marshall and Billy cheered.

“Take the helm,” Marshall ordered. He jogged out the door to the deck, and Joe hurried through his tunnels.

Once Joe reached the deck, he unhooked his tent from its fasteners and pushed it across to the railing where Marshall stood. Joe felt like a hamster in a ball.

But it worked.

Marshall was leaning over the side with a life ring. He tossed it down. Joe pushed up next to him and looked down at the water through the small vinyl window in the tent.

The one-armed figure grabbed the life ring and put it over the head of her companion. Not only had Vivian survived — she’d rescued someone along the way.

She fumbled with something on the other figure’s suit, then waved her hand.

Marshall pulled on the life ring. Bob rushed over to help. Hand over hand, they hauled the ring and its precious cargo out of the water.

Together, the two men lifted a small body onto the deck. Marshall took off the hood. Underneath was a small woman with dark skin and short black hair. Her eyes were closed.

“She’s breathing,” Marshall said. “I’ll see to her. You get Vivian.”

Bob dropped the ring again, and Vivian put it over her head. She waved her arm and Joe and Bob lifted her up. As soon as she was close enough, she grabbed ahold of the railing and flipped herself over one-handed.

“Show off.” Joe dragged her into the tent and gave her a long hug. His ribs hurt, and he didn’t care.

When he finally let her go, Edison barked and licked Vivian’s hand. She removed her hood and took a long breath.

“Real air smells so good,” she said. “You have no idea.”

“That’s the last time I let you go on a mission by yourself,” he said.

“I wanted to go back to the boat with you.” She looked at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Broken rib,” Marshall called over his shoulder.

“How did you break your rib?” she asked.

“Puking,” Marshall answered.

“Least. Glamorous. Injury. Ever,” she said.

Joe couldn’t stop grinning.

Vivian punched him on the shoulder. She looked relieved and happy to be alive. He couldn’t blame her.

“Welcome back,” he said.

A moan from the deck and Vivian went back into action. She bent over the woman she’d brought to the surface. “Nahal?”

Nahal held both hands against her chest.

“Looks like she popped some stitches,” Marshall said. “I’ll set up a sick bay in Tesla’s cabin. You men start looking for others to rescue. Wounded first.”

“I’m going back to monitor the radio,” said one of guys. Joe had never learned his name. “I’ve put out a Mayday. The Coast Guard is sending a cutter. It should be here in five hours.”

“Go back to your post,” Marshall ordered.

Nahal struggled to sit up. Vivian knelt next to her.

“Take it easy,” Vivian said.

“Joe Tesla?” Nahal asked.

Joe dropped to his knees next to her. “Yes?”

“Your girlfriend has a jump drive,” she said. “It’s got instructions on how to track down and publish information proving Prince Timgad was trying to start a war.”

“Not his girlfriend,” Vivian snapped.

“A war?” Joe asked.

“It lists his supporters as well. It’s explosive stuff.” Nahal coughed. She looked terrible. “It needs to be released now, before word of the crash gets out and the conspirators disappear like cockroaches in the light.”

He could do that. “I’ll bring my laptop down to the sick bay and get started.”