Marauder (The Oregon Files)

by Clive Cussler

  Gomez and Murph tumbled to the floor as she accelerated, but Linda didn’t care. She had to get away.

  Murph pushed Gomez off him and hopped to his feet as if he’d taken a fall off his skateboard. He didn’t know where Linda was going, but he knew that fleeing wasn’t the answer. The enemy was on board.

  He plucked a grenade from one of the containers and pulled the pin. In his haze, he couldn’t tell what kind it was. But it didn’t matter.

  Just as he was about to throw the grenade toward the back of the sub, Gomez smashed into him and it flew from his hand.

  It rolled into the cockpit, right behind Linda’s seat.

  The grenade exploded, and Murph fell to his knees in blind agony.

  * * *

  —

  Farouk was fascinated to see the submersible rise out of the water and turn toward the speedboat holding him and Li.

  “They’re coming right at us!” Li yelled. “Was that part of the plan?”

  Farouk wasn’t worried, but Li threw the throttle forward and took off at high speed to avoid a collision.

  “Not exactly,” Farouk replied calmly. “The results of the sonic disruptor can be unpredictable.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “I think it’s time we ended the operation. We’ve accomplished what we intended.”

  Farouk switched off the disruptor and input the recall coordinates, which would cause the drone carrying it to return to their ship on the far side of Guanabara Bay.

  He made a call on his phone.

  “Yes?” came the answer at the other end.

  “We’re on our way back,” Farouk said. “The mission was a success.”

  “I know,” the commander said. “I’ve been watching.” Then he let out an uproarious laugh. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

  * * *

  —

  Linda opened her eyes to find herself slouched over the Gator’s yoke. She’d passed out from a concussion, but she didn’t know how it had happened.

  Even though she was extremely groggy, the gruesome image of tentacles that had tormented her was gone.

  She leaned back and would have fallen out of her seat if she hadn’t been belted in. Her head throbbed in pain like it was being hit with a sledgehammer.

  Before she could get her bearings, she felt hands unbuckling the belt and pulling her from her seat. Her vision was still fuzzy, but she could see Gomez and Murph talking to each other as they carried her to the rear of the sub. They laid her gently on the floor, and Murph put a blanket over her. He had tears in his eyes.

  He was talking to her, yet she couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t hear anything. It was only now that Linda realized she was completely deaf except for the persistent ringing in her ears.

  Gomez said something, and the two of them had a brief conversation until Murph nodded. He then knelt beside her and wiped his eyes while Gomez went toward the cockpit.

  Moments later, Linda could feel the Gator turning.

  Then she remembered with horrifying clarity.

  She’d left them. Linda had left Juan and Eddie to die.

  9

  Ferreira had a pistol in his hand and it was pointed at Juan’s head.

  “What’s going on?” he demanded.

  Juan stood next to Eddie with his hands up. Ferreira’s three guards also had their weapons drawn, and the drone technicians had been ordered to leave. Not a good sign, getting rid of potential witnesses.

  “You tell me what’s happening,” Juan said. “I have no idea.”

  A phone was in Ferreira’s other hand. He’d been getting updates from the bridge.

  “The captain says there are quadcopter drones exploding in the air fifty yards off the bow. One of you is trying to steal my technology.” He moved the gun over so it was pointing at Eddie. “Maybe the both of you. Maybe you’re working together.”

  “I want to buy your product,” Eddie said, “not steal it. We have a deal.”

  “It’s not a coincidence that you two happen to be here right when we’re attacked.”

  He’s right about that, Juan thought. The guy’s not stupid.

  “How would we steal it?” Juan asked, pointing at the Slipstream drone. “You think we’d carry this out with us?”

  “I don’t know,” Ferreira said. “Right now, I have to get everyone off this yacht and regain control of the situation. But I’ll find out when I get back.”

  “You’ll never do business with our cartels again if anything happens to us,” Juan said.

  “Remember, I’m a risk taker. There are plenty of other buyers for my products. I’m sure your competitors won’t mind being exclusive customers. In any case, I’m going to learn the truth about this assault.”

  Before Ferreira left, he said to one of the guards, “If they move, shoot them in the leg. I want them alive for questioning.” Then he was gone.

  The three guards adjusted their aim so that the pistols pointed at Juan and Eddie’s legs.

  Juan didn’t have any doubt that questioning would turn to torture once Ferreira discovered they were impostors. He and Eddie had to figure out a way to escape ASAP.

  The odds of them making it out of this room alive and unharmed weren’t good. The guards were cautious, keeping a good twenty feet away, so Juan and Eddie would be shot long before they could attempt any kind of attack.

  In Juan’s prosthetic leg, there was a special compartment hiding a .45 caliber ACP Colt Defender pistol, a ceramic knife, a packet of C-4 plastic explosive smaller than a deck of cards, and a single-shot .44 caliber slug that could be fired from the heel. If he could open the compartment and draw the pistol, he might be able to take down all three of them before they could shoot.

  The problem was, he believed the guards would follow their command faithfully.

  “I’m going to bend down,” Juan said. “I need to tighten my prosthesis. It came loose when I was walking.”

  The lead guard stepped forward, but only six inches. “You try that and I’ll make sure you need another fake leg.”

  “It’ll only take a second.”

  “Do I look like I’m bluffing?” the guard growled.

  Juan shook his head. “No, you look really serious.”

  Eddie turned to him and gave him a look that said It was worth a try.

  At that moment, Gomez’s voice came through the comm system.

  “Alpha, are you still there?”

  Juan tapped twice on the molar mic.

  “We’ve had an incident on Omega,” Gomez said. “The distraction got activated prematurely.”

  No kidding.

  Juan tapped again to acknowledge.

  “Too bad we’re stuck in the bottom of the Dragão,” he said.

  The guard stared at him like he was crazy. “Shut up.”

  “Ferreira said we couldn’t move. He didn’t say we couldn’t talk.”

  “That’s true,” Eddie added.

  “I don’t care,” the guard said. “Be quiet or I’ll shoot you and tell Mr. Ferreira that you moved anyway.”

  “Are you free to move?” Gomez asked.

  Juan tapped No.

  “You’re captured?”

  Yes.

  “That doesn’t sound good. We’ll figure a way to get you all out of there,” Gomez said. His tone wasn’t very reassuring.

  The door opened, but it wasn’t Ferreira returning. It was Luis Machado.

  “What’s going on?” he asked the guard.

  “Mr. Ferreira thinks one of them had something to do with the attempted attack. We’re holding them for questioning when he gets back.”

  Machado looked at Juan and grimaced. Juan could tell he was making a decision.

  “I see,” Machado said. “I’ll go find him.”


  He turned, putting his hand into his jacket. Without a word, he whirled around, firing a round into each guard.

  They didn’t have time to even be surprised. All three of them slumped to the floor.

  “Thanks,” Juan said.

  “Some rescue plan you guys came up with,” Machado said. “I didn’t think I’d have to save you within the first two minutes.”

  Juan and Eddie both picked up pistols from the dead guards.

  “Something went wrong,” Eddie said.

  Machado smirked at him. “You don’t say. Somebody must have heard those shots. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Omega, are you still ready for evac?” Juan asked Gomez.

  “Who’s he talking to?” Machado asked Eddie.

  “Our ride,” Eddie said.

  “It’s gotten a lot more complicated,” Gomez said. “We surfaced, so they’ve seen us. I’ve dived the boat again, but I’m used to flying, not piloting a sub. It’s taking some time to get the hang of the controls.”

  “Why are you driving the boat?”

  “We’ve had an injury.”

  Meaning Linda was hurt. Juan couldn’t take time to ask how badly or how it happened.

  “Are there any quadcopters left?”

  “One. Smoke bomb.”

  “Good. We’re going to come out near the bow. Be ready to cover us.”

  Juan hoped that the other guards would be herding the other guests onto the aft deck.

  “Understood,” Gomez said.

  “Take us to the bow,” Juan said to Machado.

  “This way.”

  He led them down a series of corridors. They didn’t encounter anyone until two guards spotted them climbing the stairs at the front of the yacht.

  Juan fired three shots. He got one of the guards, but the other one escaped. Juan could hear him calling for backup over the radio.

  “Omega, they’re onto us,” Juan said. “We’re coming out hot. Set off the smoke bomb now.”

  “Roger that,” Gomez replied. “The breeze has gotten stronger, so it won’t last long. We’re ten yards off the starboard bow. Surfacing.”

  Juan took the lead and eased the deck access hatch open. He saw the quadcopter land and deposit the smoke bomb. The bomb went off, releasing orange smoke that engulfed the deck.

  He popped the hatch and climbed out. While Eddie came out, Juan had his gun trained aft.

  By the time Machado emerged, the smoke was dissipating.

  “Hurry,” Juan said, hauling Machado out.

  A sudden gust blew most of the smoke away, leaving them exposed.

  Ferreira spotted them from the bridge. In a rage, he grabbed an assault rifle from a guard next to him and shot out the window.

  “I trusted you, Roberto!” he yelled.

  Machado raised his pistol to fire, but Juan could see more guards coming from both sides of the Dragão, so he grabbed Machado and shouted, “Come on!”

  The three of them sprinted to the side of the yacht as bullets chewed into the deck where they’d been standing.

  The rifle rounds chased them all the way to the railing, where they jumped over and dove into the water.

  10

  As they were plummeting from the Dragão, Juan heard a brief scream of pain, but he couldn’t tell if it was Eddie or Machado. After he plunged into the water, Juan swam back up as quickly as he could.

  When he reached the surface, he looked around and saw the cupola of the Gator twenty feet away. Gomez was looking out at him with concern.

  Juan swiveled around and saw Machado’s head bobbing above the water, but he didn’t see Eddie. With two powerful strokes, he was next to Machado.

  “Have you seen Eddie?” Juan asked him.

  Machado didn’t answer. Juan tapped him on the shoulder.

  “Machado?”

  Eddie broke the surface on the other side of Machado. He blew out some water and said, “He was hit as we went over.”

  Juan grabbed Machado by the shoulders and turned him. There was a bullet hole in his chest. He was blinking in shock, his face drained of color.

  Juan immediately looped his arm under Machado’s shoulder and began hauling him backward toward the Gator.

  “Stay with me, Luis,” Juan said.

  Two guards appeared at the railing of the yacht. As they took aim, they shuddered from the impact of automatic fire. Juan glanced behind him to see Murph shooting an assault rifle with a grim determination.

  Without the weight of Machado to slow him down, Eddie reached the Gator first. He climbed aboard, then pulled Machado up when Juan was beside the sub. While Murph covered them, Juan bounded onto the Gator, and they lowered Machado’s still form through the hatch.

  Juan took the assault rifle from Murph and trained it on the Dragão while Eddie and Murph got in. He heard Ferreira shouting for his men to shoot at the sub, but no one appeared at the railing before Juan dove into the hatch and closed it behind him.

  “Submerge now!” he yelled to Gomez.

  “Submerging, aye,” Gomez replied.

  As they descended, Juan could hear bullets pinging against the hull, slowed just enough by the water covering the Gator so that none of them penetrated, although one of them cracked a cupola window.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Linda lying on her back, but Machado was his first priority. Eddie had opened the medical kit and handed him some gauze compresses.

  Juan ripped open Machado’s shirt and checked his back. No exit wound. The bullet had missed his heart, but not by much. Blood poured from his chest. His breathing was shallow and gurgling from the damage to his lungs.

  Juan pressed the gauze against Machado’s chest to stanch the flow of blood, but he couldn’t do anything about the internal bleeding. They had to get him to the Oregon’s medical bay as soon as possible.

  “Gomez, set course for the Oregon at top speed.”

  “Heading that way, Chairman.”

  “And alert Doc Huxley to be ready for casualties.”

  “She’s prepped and standing by.”

  Machado grabbed Juan’s arm with a surprisingly strong grip.

  “Password,” he croaked. Blood trickled from his lips.

  “Easy, Luis,” Juan said. “We’re going to get you some help.”

  Machado shook his head. “J . . . Two . . . Seven . . . Y . . .” He paused to catch his breath, then continued, “Five . . . Nine . . . Z . . . Eight . . .”

  His hand dropped from Juan’s arm and reached into his pants pocket. He took something out and pressed it into Juan’s hands.

  It was a sealed plastic baggie. Inside was a USB memory stick.

  “Use it . . . to stop . . . Ferreira . . .”

  That must have been what Machado went back to retrieve from his cabin.

  “Don’t worry,” Juan said. “We’ll get him.”

  Machado didn’t answer. His hand fell to his side. His eyes closed. He let out a death rattle and went still.

  Eddie, who had some training as a medic, immediately began CPR. Even though they’d have Machado to the Oregon in minutes, Juan didn’t think it would do any good. The blood loss was too great.

  Leaving Machado in Eddie’s care, Juan stood and handed the memory stick to Murph.

  “When we get back to the Oregon, see what’s on there,” Juan said. “You memorized the password?”

  Murph simply nodded.

  Juan bent down to Linda’s side. She was awake but looked confused.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “She can’t hear you,” Murph said with a hitch in his voice. “I threw a flashbang into the cockpit. It went off right behind her head. She’s completely deaf.”

  “What? Why would you do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

 
“It was both our faults, Chairman,” Gomez called back from the cockpit. “I knocked the grenade out of his hand for some reason.”

  “We went crazy out of nowhere,” Murph said. “All three of us. I can’t explain it. It was sheer terror. I couldn’t control myself.”

  “He’s right,” Gomez said. “Then suddenly it was gone, and we were back to our normal selves. Except for Linda, of course.”

  What they were saying made no sense to Juan. Their reported behavior was the exact opposite of the controlled professionalism he’d come to expect from them.

  “We’ll have Hux check all of you when the mission is over.” He looked at Eddie futilely performing CPR on Machado and seethed about the failure. “I want to know how this happened.”

  “Two minutes out from the Oregon.”

  “I want a fast turnaround. Have Eric Stone meet us at the moon pool. He and I will go back out with Gomez to rendezvous with the other teams.”

  “What about the crack in the cupola window?” Gomez asked.

  “We’ll duct-tape it,” Juan said. “The reason that Ferreira brought Machado into his organization is because the other two agents vouched for him. It’s only a matter of time before Ferreira figures out they must be spies as well and rats them out. Alert Beta and Gamma teams to initiate extraction missions immediately.”

  11

  The midfield seats were the best in Maracanã Stadium, but Franklin “Linc” Lincoln paid no attention to the tense soccer match between Peru and Mexico that was tied at one all. Instead, he was focused on the man two rows in front of him, Diego López. The CIA agent was cheering the players’ every move, along with the men on either side of him, both killers from the Juárez Cartel of Mexico.

  The plan was to get López away from his companions long enough to escort him out of the stadium alive. At one time Maracanã was the biggest on the planet, capable of holding almost two hundred thousand spectators. Since renovations for the Olympics and World Cup, its capacity was down to seventy-eight thousand, but that was more than enough crowd to cover their exit at the end of the game.

  “Beta, this is Omega,” Gomez said in Linc’s ear. “You have to move now.”