Poseidon's Arrow

The impact threw Pitt off balance, and his legs were sucked into the well. The rest of his body followed, and he found himself hanging side by side with Pablo, clinging to the steel rail overhead, as thousands of gallons of water rushed past them. No longer concerned with battling each other, each man fought for his life.

Their descent had taken only half a minute, but because of their exertions both men were out of air. Pablo had fought to maintain his breath since hitting the water and now he began to struggle. His heart raced and his head ached. The fear of drowning flooded his thoughts, and he panicked.

Hanging just inches away, Pitt could see Pablo’s eyes bulge and his face shudder.

Desperation took hold, and Pablo gave in to his instincts. Letting go of the rail, he kicked and clawed, trying to swim to the surface.

He had no chance.

Instead he whisked past Pitt, disappearing into the depths of the well.

Pablo’s surrender only served to give Pitt more resolve. He focused on maintaining his grip on the rail and tried not to think about the pounding in his brain or the overwhelming urge to inhale. He knew the locks could be filled or drained quickly. And the water level had already dropped by more than twenty feet since they had fallen into the chamber. Pitt told himself the draining would have to end soon.

As his fingers went numb, he detected a deep rumble beneath him. For a moment, he felt the draining water pull even harder. It was the valves inside the drainage wells turning to close. Then he heard a bang, and the water ceased its deadly pull.

Unbelieving at first, Pitt pulled on the rail and found himself ascending. He let go and kicked hard, exhaling, long and slow, his reserve of air as he rose. It was still thirty feet to the surface, but he reached it quickly, gasping in the humid air that greeted him.

As he regained his senses, he heard shouts from the dock high above and an engine revving nearby. The lock gates had opened, and Bolcke was engaging the boat to leave the chamber. Two canal workers tossing down the mooring lines spotted Pitt in the water and called to one of the guards.

Bolcke spotted Pitt, too, and gu

Pitt reacted at once, swimming a few short strokes and grabbing the floating line. It went taut, yanking him through the water, as the guard arrived and shouted at Bolcke to stop. Bolcke ignored the request, pushing down on the throttle.

Pitt felt like his arms were being yanked out of their sockets, but he hung on as the boat zipped ahead.

Clearing the lock, Bolcke looked back and cursed at seeing Pitt in tow. Leaving the boat’s controls, he stepped to the stern line and released the secured end from its deck cleat.

The line bounded over the stern, freeing the boat and Bolcke from the relentless man who refused to let go.

77

RUDI, YOU BETTER GET DOWN HERE RIGHT AWAY.”

“Okay, Hiram, on my way.” Gu

Yaeger sat in his command chair in front of the massive video screen. It showed a freighter moving slowly into a narrow compartment.

“What do you have?” Gu

“Panama Canal. This is the Pedro Miguel Locks, viewed through one of the Canal Authority’s live video feeds. I’ve been monitoring their cameras while waiting to hear from Dirk and Summer about the raid.”

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for their call.”

“Check this out. I recorded it just a few minutes ago.”

Yaeger keyed up earlier footage of the same view, which showed a small boat come into one of the chambers. A few minutes later, an inflatable boat entered the parallel chamber and landed by the control house.

Gu

“So that is A

They watched the rest of the events unfold, including Pitt’s battle with Pablo and his watery ride out of the lock. The two could only stare in disbelief.

“Could that be Bolcke in the boat?” Yaeger asked.

“Yes,” Gu

“What do we do?”

Gu

“Sandecker,” he said finally. “We better call Sandecker.”

78

THE LINE WENT SLACK IN PITT’S HAND AFTER HIS short aquatic sled ride. Catching his breath, he watched Bolcke speed across the lake.

He’d been pulled just a short distance into Miraflores Lake. At the shoreline a few yards away was a landing with a moored boat. Pitt swam toward the boat and reached it in short order. It was a small auxiliary tugboat used by the Canal Authority to supplement the operating tugs used to maneuver large ships.

Pitt pulled himself aboard and quietly untied the mooring lines, then made his way to the wheelhouse. He started the engine and pulled away from shore, oblivious to the standby crew who were busy assisting with the lock operations. As he turned into the lake, he pushed the tug to top speed as it passed a large object floating in the water. It was the body of Pablo, crushed and mangled from his death ride through the drainage culverts.

The tug was no match for Bolcke’s crew boat, but it didn’t have to be. Miraflores Lake was small, just over a mile long. Bolcke couldn’t escape from view, and if he wished to flee on the crew boat, he would have to pass through another series of locks. Following a half mile behind, Pitt soon realized that wasn’t Bolcke’s plan.

The crew boat pulled alongside a large freighter idling on the lake and waited for its accommodation ladder to be lowered. Two armed men with Asian features descended the ladder and pulled the boat alongside. Bolcke handed one of the men the bin containing the Sea Arrow’s plans, then stepped off the boat.

Approaching from its stern, Pitt saw that the black-hulled freighter was named the Santa Rita, ported out of Guam. The men were halfway up the ladder when Pitt barreled alongside in the tug.

Spotting Pitt in the wheelhouse, Bolcke stared at him as if he were a ghost. He spoke quickly to the gunmen.

The man carrying the bin raced to the top of the ladder, but the second gunman stopped and aimed his weapon. He studied the tugboat with a cautious eye and fired a warning burst ahead of it. Then he swung the gun toward Pitt in the wheelhouse. Pitt heeded the message, turning away from the side of the freighter and motoring on ahead.

Zhou approached the deck rail as Bolcke climbed aboard. “Welcome,” Zhou said with faint emotion.

Bolcke stood wild-eyed, catching his breath after climbing the steps. “My ship was rammed and sunk, my facility attacked and destroyed. We have lost the motor, and my assistant Pablo was killed. But I escaped with the supercavitation plans. They are worth more than the motor.”

Zhou stared at the Austrian, relieved that he was not a suspect in the destruction of his complex. But the loss of the Sea Arrow’s motor was a failure, even with receipt of the plans. “This changes our agreement.”

“Of course. But we can discuss it later. We need to clear the Miraflores Locks at once.”

Zhou nodded. “We are next in line to make the transit. Who was that in the tugboat?”

Bolcke looked at the tugboat receding in the distance. “Just a nuisance. He can’t stop us now.”