Typhoon Fury

54

Twin camera feeds on the op center main screen showed the RHIB racing away from the site of the Pearsall, on one side, and Gerhard Brekker frantically reaching over the side of the yacht, trying to reach something.

“What’s he doing?” Juan asked.

No one had time to answer before the yacht erupted in a fireball. Simultaneously, a massive water plume blasted hundreds of feet above the sunken destroyer’s location. If the RHIB hadn’t fled when it did, Eddie and the others would have been pulverized.

“Find out how they’re doing, Hali,” Juan said as he watched the RHIB slow down.

Hali radioed Eddie and put it on speaker. “Are you all still in one piece out there?”

“No injuries,” Eddie replied. “Except for Little Geek. Linda says she saw it get thrown into the air by the explosion. We’ll go see if we can salvage it and then head your way.”

“Eddie,” Juan said. “Hang back until we give you the all clear. I have a feeling Locsin has more tricks up his sleeve.”

“Roger that, Chairman. We’ll stay here until you call back. Out.”

The fishing boat was just rounding the north end of the islet.

“We can’t let them get away,” Raven said. “We have to make us take them to Beth.”

Max patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll get her. There’s no possibility that they’ll outrun us in that thing.”

The Oregon’s camera picked up a green flash from the fishing boat.

“That had to be a laser,” Max said. “We’ve just been targeted.”

The fishing boat disappeared around the islet’s northern point. As soon as it was gone, small black shapes came racing at them across the water.

“Those are the Kuyog drones,” Juan said. “I count ten. Prepare to take them out, Wepps.”

“That’s a big affirmative, Chairman,” Murph said. “Gatling guns coming online.”

The hull panels hiding the trio of 20mm weapons slid aside, and their six barrels whirred to life, spinning in preparation for the three thousand rounds per minute that would be fed by a belt from the mounted ammunition drum.

“Chairman, I’m not showing any of them on radar,” Murph said. “That Chinese stealth technology seems to be working. I’ll have to target them manually.”

“Mr. Stone, come ten degrees to port. That should give us the best angle to take them out.”

“Coming about,” Eric said. “Ten degrees to port, aye.”

“You may fire when ready, Gridley,” Juan said to Murph, paraphrasing Commodore Dewey’s order just before the Americans decimated the Spanish fleet in Manila Bay during the Spanish — American War in 1898.

“Firing.” Murph let loose a torrent of tracer shells from the starboard Gatling gun. The chain saw buzz of the weapon resounded through the Oregon’s hull.

The first Kuyog was blown apart by the tungsten rounds. Murph kept firing as the gun swung to the next drone, and Juan could see the rounds kicking up a trail of water as they lanced their way to the target. It blew up in a satisfying gush of flame.

Murph systematically cut down the rest of the drones one by one. None of them got within a quarter mile of the Oregon.

“Good shooting, Murph,” Juan said.

Murph shrugged. “Just call me Deadeye.”

“Keep a deadeye out for more.”

“They can try again, but it’ll be a huge waste of hardware for them.”

“As the wise Mr. Solo has said, Don’t get cocky.”

“Moi?” Murph said, turning to show off the black T-shirt he was wearing. The white letters on the front read Once I thought I was wrong, but I was mistaken.

“Glad to see I have a crew with their egos in check,” Juan said with a smile.

“If you want to see a bruised ego,” Eric said, “watch me kick his tail at chess.”

Before Murph could respond, the fishing boat came into view on the big screen, cruising along the opposite side of the islet.

Another fishing boat appeared. It looked just like the first one.

“What’s the double?” Murph said.

Then another one. And another. Soon, there were twenty similar boats on-screen, all motoring toward Negros Island eight miles to the west. Every one was the same color and model, though each had slight differences.

“Can anyone distinguish which was the one we were following?” Juan asked.

“Playing back the video,” Hali said. The recording of their chase came on the screen next to the live feed. None of them matched the recording.

“Did it disappear?” Max said, incredulous.

Juan frowned. “Locsin must have changed the configuration of his boat while it was out of sight, just like we do. It means we can’t tell which of the boats is the original since we don’t know what changed.”

“Can you disable all the boats with the Gatling guns?” Raven asked.

“Not without killing potentially innocent fishermen,” Juan said, “which is probably what Locsin is counting on. We’ll have to board them one at a time.”

“Chairman,” Hali said, “we’re being hailed. It’s Salvador Locsin. He wants to talk to us on a private channel.”

“Put it on speaker.”

Locsin’s accented but articulate voice came through with a jaunty tone. “Is this Juan Cabrillo that I’m finally speaking to after all these encounters?”

“Are you calling to surrender?” Juan said. “It’ll save us some time.”

“It’s hard to tell which boat I’m on, isn’t it? The fishermen on board the other nineteen have no idea what’s going on, of course. I was planning to use this tactic on the Philippine Navy, but I thought I’d put it to good use here. It seems to be working well.”

“Just as long as it takes us to board every fishing boat in your fleet. Odds are, we’ll get to you sooner rather than later.”

“I could simply have all the boats take off in random directions,” Locsin said. “That would slow you down.” Despite his threat, all of the boats continued on a steady pace.

The obvious boats to start with would be the ones headed to Negros since it was the closest inhabited island, but Juan didn’t mention that. “The search would take longer, but we’d find you eventually.”

“That was my conclusion, too,” Locsin said. “So I have a surprise for you. Look toward Negros Island and a little north.”

Juan nodded to Hali, who panned the camera around until it was aiming northwest. A white ship was motionless five miles away. Juan’s stomach knotted when he recognized it as a passenger ferry.

“What have you done, Locsin?”

“You have a dilemma on your hands, Captain Cabrillo. I know the type of man you are. I saw it when you rescued Dr. Ocampo and his scientists from my laboratory, despite the fact that they meant nothing to you. You can’t understand that sometimes you have to sacrifice innocents for a larger purpose.”

“Most would call it a virtue to value the lives of innocents.”

“I call it a weakness. That ferry has over twelve hundred passengers aboard. My men have killed its crew, disabled its radio, sabotaged the lifeboats, thrown all the life vests overboard, and opened the sea cocks. I estimate it will sink within the next twenty minutes. What you may not know is that many Filipinos can’t swim. Strange, for an island nation like ours, but true. Most of them will die within sight of the shore.” He paused, then said, “Unless you do something about it.”

Juan seethed at hearing Locsin so casually talk about killing men, women, and children who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. What he would do if Locsin were in the room right now…

“The clock is ticking, Cabrillo. I know you’ll ‘do the right thing.’ You’ve been a challenging enemy, but I have to go now.”

With a click, the line went dead.

Juan knew it was no choice at all. He couldn’t take the chance that Locsin was bluffing.

He looked at Eric and said, “Stoney, give me all available speed toward that ferry.”