Piranha

“I’m glad to hear you’re up and about, Chairman,” Linc replied, “but I’m sorry, they got here first. Two of them drowned, three left. We don’t think they had time to disable the engineering station, though.”

“Can Maria reach it?”

“Not yet, but we’re working on a plan. We wouldn’t mind some help.”

“We’re kind of busy ourselves,” Juan said, “but we’ll keep you posted.”

“Roger that.”

Juan dropped to his belly. His sodden clothes squished against the metal. He was certain one of Dominguez’s men would be circling around in a pincer movement.

There. Feet scurried from the protection of one giant wheel to the next. Juan anticipated the path he was taking and placed the red dot sight on a spot five feet past the wheel.

On cue, the feet appeared. Juan led his target and shot a three-round volley. One of the bullets slammed into a knee and knocked the man to the ground, howling. He saw Juan and tried to get a shot off, but Juan cut him down with another burst.

“We know where you are, Dominguez!” Juan shouted in Spanish. “You can’t stay there forever.”

Dominguez didn’t respond. Instead, a hand grenade bounced against the wall and skittered across the floor until it stuck against the forward chain anchoring the bulldozer to the deck. Juan and Eddie dived behind the dozer’s blade, which rang with the blast.

Juan looked out and saw that the blast had severed the anchor chain. Nothing was holding the front of the forty-ton bulldozer in place except its treads.

“We need to take care of Dominguez and get down to the engine room,” Juan said.

“I saw where he was when he tossed the grenade,” Eddie said. “He’s in the bed of a dump truck. Good sight lines and a stellar defensive position. A head-on attack wouldn’t be the best idea.”

The deck tilted farther and the bulldozer was losing traction. It skidded to starboard with a shriek of metal on metal until it came to rest against the dump truck next to it. Juan held his breath, thinking this might be the start of a vehicle avalanche. The truck’s anchor chains squealed in protest at the added weight but held.

“That’s not going to last long if the list gets worse,” Eddie said.

“I agree.” Juan radioed Linc again. “I don’t mean to put pressure on you guys, but we’ve got a loose bulldozer up here that is getting ready to take half the cargo with it to the starboard side. If you don’t stop this list in the next few minutes, none of us are making it out of here.”

—

Maria’s heart pounded as the gunfire echoed through the engine room. She had no idea how Linc and MacD stayed so calm.

“We’ve got two men left behind those pipes above the engine,” MacD said, before snapping off another shot.

“The Chairman says the situation up there is critical,” Linc said. “We need to get to the engineering station now. Do you think you can make it?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t have any idea what to do when I got there.”

“Maria could tell you over the radio how to turn off the ballast drains.”

“No, I have to do it,” Maria said. “It will take too long to talk MacD through the procedure.”

She added, “This is my ship. I’m not going to let Ruiz sink her.”

Linc grudgingly relented. “Okay. They don’t have a good angle on the lower level, but even with our covering fire you’ll be too exposed to use the stairs from the catwalk. They’ll pick you off before you get fifteen feet.” He pointedly looked down at the pool of water and Maria understood what he meant. Instead of using the stairs to get down there, she was going to have to dive over the railing directly into the water.

“I can make it,” she said more confidently than she felt.

“We’ve got another problem,” MacD said. “I’m down to my last magazine.”

“Me too. Make every shot count. Ready?”

Maria took a deep breath and nodded.

Linc said, “On my mark. Three, two, one . . . Go!”

MacD and Linc snapped up and shot three-round bursts in rapid succession. Maria didn’t wait to see if the suppressing fire worked. She jumped to her feet, pivoted around the ventilation duct, and launched herself over the railing, praying that the water was as deep as she thought it was.

She plunged into the pool feetfirst and stopped herself against the deck. There was just enough light to see the steps ahead of her, but the oil in the water stung her eyes.

Maria had the impulse to close her eyes and surface, but the less exposure to the gunmen, the better. She used a dolphin stroke to propel herself all the way across underwater. Her lungs were screaming for air by the time she reached the stairs to the engineering station.

She lunged out of the water, half expecting a bullet through her brain as soon as she hit the air, but the fire was still concentrated at the other end of the engine room. She sucked in a breath and heaved herself up the stairs. Those three steps were the longest of her life, but the moment she flung the door open and dived inside she nearly let out a victory cry. The door shut behind her, blocking out the sounds of the engine and gunshots.

Maria raced over to the terminal and tapped on the keyboard to bring up the ballast controls. She was so intent on shutting down the draining tanks that the reappearance of the noise from the engine room barely registered. Someone had opened the door.

Maria didn’t bother to see who it was, but she didn’t need to when she heard the man yell, “¡Alto!”

She ignored him and tapped on the mouse. The screen confirmed that the tanks were closed, and then the display exploded in a hail of bullets.

She closed her eyes and prepared for her own end, but the death blow never came. She turned to see the gunman staring blankly, a bloody third eye drilled through his forehead. The rest of his body knew he was dead a second later and slumped to the floor. Behind him, a neat hole had penetrated the glass, and Linc stood beyond it with his pistol raised.

He charged through the door and made sure the man was dead.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her.

“No. I was able to shut off the ballast tanks before he destroyed the terminal.”

“Good. This guy went after you, so I came after him. MacD took out the last guy, but he’s clearing the rest of the engine room to be sure.”

The dead man’s radio squawked. Linc picked it up. He listened but shook his head.

“I don’t know Spanish,” he said, and handed it to Maria.

She translated as she listened. “A ship has arrived. It’s traveling at a fantastic rate of speed.”

“The Oregon.”

The discussion went on, and she went rigid when she heard the next sentence.

Linc tensed as well. “What?”

“He said the subs are charged and ready to attack. But they’re not aimed at the Ciudad Bolívar. Lieutenant Dominguez has some kind of controller. He’s sending them to sink your ship.”

—

When Linc radioed with the news about the sub controller, Juan told him to warn the Oregon to be on the lookout for any subs. But without any intel on them, he didn’t know if they would be able to spot them or outrun them. He had to get the controller away from Dominguez and deactivate the subs.

Eddie had circled around behind the dump truck where Dominguez was hiding. Juan was waiting behind it in the shadow of another truck’s fender. Eddie prepared to flush Dominguez out.

“I’m in position,” Juan whispered into his radio.

“So am I,” Eddie replied.

Juan unloaded half his magazine into the side of the truck’s enormous bed. Dominguez and another man poked their eyes above the lip and returned fire. At the same time, Eddie used the distraction and noise to climb into the cab. He activated the bed’s hydraulic lift.

With a whine, it started to raise. Juan was hoping Dominguez would scrabble to stay in the truck, but he jumped over the side near Juan while the other gunman went over the opposite side. Eddie would have to take care of that guy.