Jack Du Brul - River of Ruin

The freighter’s captain put the rudder hard over to angle his ship out of the maelstrom, narrowly missing another vessel waiting to ascend the adjacent set of locks.

The way was clear for the Englander Rose , and like a log poised at the top of a flume, she shot forward.

The tired old ship accelerated as water went draining through the open locks in a maddened rush. As she shot into the middle of the lock, the level had drained enough for alert soldiers on the seawall to open fire almost directly into the bridge. What little glass remained was quickly shot away and bullets whipped around the wheelhouse in swarms.

Mercer unleashed a quick burst from his M-16 before remembering the human shields the Chinese were using. He held his fire as they ran the gauntlet.

Only Harry remained on his feet, concentrating solely on keeping his ship steady as she hurtled toward the shattered remains of the doors and the first great plunge from one basin to the next. He seemed oblivious to the deadly fire raking the bridge, his lips working as he drew each breath through a cigarette.

Soldiers continued to pour rounds at the ship as it raced past their positions, and Mercer almost regretted not allowing the USS McCampbell to clear their way first. A rocket was launched, but the shooter failed to lead his target. The errant missile streaked across the channel and blew apart a machine shop on the bank.

The water pouring over the boundary between the two lock chambers was barely deep enough to float the Englander Rose . Her bottom scraped the concrete threshold as she went through, a rending tear that produced a sound like a scream. She seemed to pause for a moment before the torrent overcame her again and she plunged down to the second chamber. Her bow was driven deep and spray blew into the air as if she were battling a heavy sea. Her keel hit the floor of the basin, a ringing collision that shook the entire vessel. She slowly righted herself, rushing along the chamber as though through a canyon whose concrete walls loomed higher than her wing bridges. The noise of so much turgid water was a sustained tornado-like shriek.

It was a feat that Harry had been able to keep the ship from nosing into the remnants of the doors so he didn’t feel too bad when her flank scraped the concrete as she plowed into the second chamber.

He eased the wheel over, giving just a touch of rudder. Because the flood bore her along, his adjustment had no effect. The water was carrying the Rose where it wanted. She scraped again in a continuous metallic squeal that set teeth on edge.

And then the Englander Rose was free. She shot past the end of the second lock and the flood surge spread and slowed as it met the brackish water that stretched the last few miles to the Bay of Panama. She’d survived the wildest ride a ship had ever taken, a journey that would have taxed a white-water raft to its very limits.

A normal passage through the Miraflores Locks took thirty minutes. They’d done it in less than thirty seconds. Bruneseau and Foch whooped while Lauren screamed in delight and threw her arms around Mercer’s neck. Their mouths met.

“Oh, that’s just freaking great!” Harry shouted at the couple. “I do all the heroic stuff and Mercer ends up kissing the girl. I am not happy about this. Not happy at all.”

Lauren released Mercer, crossed to Harry, and brushed her lips against his bristled cheek. “Better?”

He grinned lecherously. “How about some tongue?”

“Even Mercer hasn’t gotten that-” she looked over at him “-yet.”

The ship’s buoyancy had changed when she hit the salty, less-dense water. She should have become lighter and easier to control, but as Harry worked the wheel to avoid the drifting freighter to starboard, he noted the ship was sluggish. Dangerously sluggish.

“We’re taking on water,” he said, his pronouncement ending the celebration around him.

Mercer snapped a look at Foch. The Frenchman called Munz and Rabidoux.

“We know,” Rabidoux answered. “We can hear water rushing into the spaces below the hold.”

“Can you tell how fast?”

“Fast enough. When the ship tipped forward and her bow hit, it sounded like we were inside a bell that had just cracked.”

“What’s the status on the timing device?”

“We couldn’t bypass the security code pad so we’re taking off the entire cover. We just backed off the last of the screws securing it to the device. These aren’t ideal working conditions and every one of the screws was booby-trapped to prevent tampering. Someone didn’t want the crew disarming it once it had been set. I think that’s why they just let it sit out like it is. The crew must have known that tampering with it would detonate the bombs.”

“How much time is left?”

“Ah, twelve minutes nine seconds. From the sound of the flooding in the bilge, I don’t think it’ll matter.”

Foch addressed Harry and Mercer. “Twelve minutes remain. Rabidoux thinks the ship will sink before he can deactivate the timer.”

Mercer nodded. “Will that prevent the explosives from going off or will it short out and set them off prematurely?”

The Legion commander made a balancing gesture with his hands as if to say it was fifty-fifty.

Mercer looked at Lauren. Her face shone with the adrenaline rush of their ride through the locks and her smile touched deep inside his soul. He knew they would never be able to explore their growing feelings for each other. If they evacuated now, there was no hope of getting far enough away to avoid the worst of the blast. They were all as good as dead.

They’d saved most of the canal by wrecking part of it, and saved countless lives by moving the ship into a relatively deserted area. It was the best any of them could hope for.

The left bank of the canal was overgrown jungle interspersed with a few ramshackle houses. Around a curve up ahead lay the town of Balboa and the sprawling Hatcherly container port nestled in the shadow of Quarry Heights. Here was as good a place as any to stop the ship and let her blow. Collateral damage would be minimal once they moved a little farther from the locks.

“Tell Munz if he wants to knock off he and Rabidoux can come up to the bridge,” Mercer said slowly. “Harry, take us up to where that open field runs down to the canal. Doesn’t look like anyone lives close by. If anyone wants, I guess now would be a good time to abandon ship. Maybe you can make it.”

As he suspected there were no takers. They knew the odds. They’d lived together, fought together, and now they would die together.

To cover his surprise, Liu Yousheng snapped to attention. “General Yu. What brings-?”

“Shut up, Liu,” the general snapped. “Captain Wong, get out here, please.” Wong emerged from his cabin with Sergeant Huai and Mr. Sun. “Captain, get to the bridge and make ready to leave port. Inform the dockworkers that the rocket-launcher trucks should be brought aboard immediately. I fear that Liu’s operation hasn’t gone as planned.”

“Yes, sir.” Wong skirted past Liu in the cramped passageway.

Yu continued to address Liu. “You aren’t the only one receiving reports from the locks. I already know about the Englander Rose being hijacked. I assume by the same commandos who rescued Philip Mercer from the mine, attacked your installation near the River of Ruin, and a number of other acts that you assured me were merely annoyances.”

Yu’s anger suddenly exploded. “Your arrogance led to this disaster. You’ve reached far beyond your limits and now you are about to fall.”

Liu swallowed. “We can still recover. We can get the second ship back into the Gaillard Cut. I have men-”

“It’s over. Operation Red Island was a foolish risk to begin with. I tried to tell the premier that you couldn’t do it, but he thought you deserved a chance.”