Jack Du Brul - River of Ruin

He had forgotten the guided-missile destroyer. “Heaven, this is Angel Two. Go ahead. Over.”

“We’ve got a rescue helo in the air. ETA is seven minutes.”

With a shout Mercer repeated what he’d just heard. The laughs and cries returned even louder than before. “Roger that, Heaven. We’ll be standing by. Make sure the pilot knows he’ll only have two minutes to pick us up and get clear again.”

“I’ll make sure she knows,” the female comm officer replied, emphasizing the inbound pilot’s gender.

Foch got back on the radio with Rabidoux. “Helo extraction in seven minutes.”

“I’ve got even better news. Munz has almost got the bomb disarmed. Once into the timing device, there were no more booby traps. It’s a straightforward job from here on out.”

“How long?”

“A minute, maybe less. The wiring will be disabled before the water can cause a short. Tell Mercer to let the ship sink in deep water. If we can stay afloat long enough, sail her right under the Bridge of the Americas and let her go in the Bay of Panama.”

“Will do. Good job.”

“Munz almost has it.” Foch’s report was met by a stunned silence. “The timer. He almost has it deactivated. The ship’s not going to explode.”

“He’s sure?”

“Bomb disposal men aren’t known to boast when their butts are on the line.” Foch grinned. “He says that if the ship can make it to try to let her sink in deep water.”

“Never happen,” Harry said. “We’ll be lucky to make it out of the canal. I can’t tell how fast we’re shipping water, but I can’t see us getting more than another couple of miles out of her.”

“Okay,” said Mercer. “What’s out there in the next couple of miles?”

Lauren thought about it. “Balboa and the abandoned navy fueling depot at Rodman are on the right side of the canal. On the left is all Hatcherly facilities.”

As soon as she said it, Mercer, Harry, and she exchanged a look. “What about it, Harry?” Mercer asked.

He chuckled. “I can’t imagine a more fitting burial for this old girl than right up Liu Yousheng’s asset.”

Mercer waited for confirmation that Munz had succeeded before calling the USS McCampbell . Two minutes later, the German and his French partner ambled onto the bridge. Their uniforms were soaked from the flooding holds, but nothing could diminish their sense of accomplishment. “I don’t care where you two are on the promotion lists,” Foch gushed and kissed his men on both cheeks. “You’re each getting bumped a grade.”

“Angel Two to Heaven,” Mercer called after adding his congratulations.

“Go ahead, Angel.”

“Slight change of plans. The bomb’s been deactivated. We’re going to try to reach the Hatcherly container port. We can’t see it yet. Can you give me an idea of shipping around it?”

“One moment, Angel. Ah, are you sure about the bomb?”

“We’d be screaming for that chopper if we weren’t.”

“Roger, Angel. There’s only one ship at the facility at this time. It’s just now emerging from an enclosed dry dock.”

Mercer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what ship that was. “Heaven, any chance you can read its name?”

“We can read the magazine stuffed into the back pocket of a deckhand by her jackstaff. She’s the MV Korvald , registered in Liberia.”

“ Korvald ’s coming out of the dry dock,” Mercer told Harry.

He goosed the throttles a little farther “Say no more.” Harry looked up to speak to his ship. “Okay, baby, you hold together for old Captain Harry and he’ll give you a send-off befitting a dreadnought.”

“Are you going to ram the Korvald ?” Rene asked.

“If the Rose ’ll let me.” Harry smiled and patted the wheel.

“Are you insane? We’re loaded with thousands of tons of explosives and the Korvald ’s carrying eight intercontinental ballistic missiles. You are going to kill us all and level five square kilometers.”

“Don’t worry, Rene.” Mercer interceded before Bruneseau completely lost it again. “Harry’s making another of his bad jokes. He’s not gonna hit her. What we’ll do is box her in and keep her from escaping. Those missiles are the perfect evidence against Liu Yousheng.”

The French spy seemed satisfied, but the scowl didn’t leave his face. It was clear that he would never trust Harry White.

Mercer moved close to his friend so Bruneseau couldn’t overhear. “You really weren’t planning on ramming the Korvald , were you?”

“Oh, I’m still planning on it.” Harry cackled. They were a half mile from the Hatcherly port. Against the backdrop of the storm, the tall Hyundai gantry cranes stood like colossal scaffolds. Behind them was a maze of shipping containers. Immediately next to the cranes was the dry dock. The tail of a ship was slowly backing from the cavernous entrance. “Take the wheel.”

“What?”

Harry stepped away from the ship’s controls. “I said take the wheel. We’ve got a couple minutes and I wasn’t kidding that I have to take a leak. Just keep her on course for the dry dock.”

By the time Harry returned from the head, the Englander Rose had started to list to port at an angle that deepened remarkably fast. They were separated from the dry dock by a quarter mile of choppy water and the Korvald was almost free from the enclosure. With the load of water filling her bilge and starting to swamp her lower cargo decks, the Rose became more sluggish. Her speed fell away to the point that Harry didn’t think they were going to make it. He eased back on the throttles.

“Okay, folks, this is what I want to do,” he said. “If we go, we’re going to roll to port. She won’t flip completely because the water here isn’t deep enough. She’ll just settle in the mud on her side. All of you go out on the starboard wing bridge and wait for it to happen.”

“What about you?” Foch asked.

“I’ve got to hold her on course as long as I can.”

“Someone find some rope,” Lauren ordered. “We can tie a loop around your waist and haul you up when the ship capsizes.”

Gathering the weapons, the group moved outside while Mercer jury-rigged a climber’s harness out of some rope and secured Harry to the wing-bridge railing. “How’s that?”

“Feels like a damned straitjacket,” Harry complained.

“You’d know.”

Mercer stayed at his friend’s side as the ship moved closer to its target and slid closer to overturning. By the inclinometer screwed into a bulkhead, her angle was twenty-two degrees. The measuring device had a mark stating she could recover from a forty-degree dip, but not with her holds flooded and probably only when wave action would help to right her. Harry leaned into his harness while Mercer was forced to hold the console.

They could see the Korvald clearly. She was newer than the Rose ; larger too. Her cargo wasn’t heavy enough to hide the bright line of antifouling paint along her waterline. Men stood at the fantail, and others were visible on her wing bridge. Three were in dark naval-like uniforms while two others wore suits. Both civilians were shorter than average, although one had a thick build. Something nagged at Mercer about the thinner of the pair. He groped for the binoculars, swinging them up one-handed, and spreading his feet farther as the ship’s list deepened past thirty degrees.

He dialed in the focus, zeroing in on the men guiding the refrigerator ship from under a tarp protecting the exposed bridge from the rain. Facial features became clear. All were staring at the tired tramp steamer limping toward them. Mercer recognized none of the crew, nor the heavy-set civilian, but he knew the frail figure.