Scarecrow ss-3

by Matthew Reilly

  In here, the impact had been a thunderous experience.

  Not even Schofield had been prepared for the sheer power of the blow, or the sudden appearance of the Eindhoven's pointed bow thrusting unexpectedly right through the port-side wall of the missile hold.

  In response, the entire hold had swayed to starboard, throwing everyone off their feet.

  Then seawater began to enter the hold through the gigantic gash—in monumental proportions.

  A tidal wave of water, ten feet high and utterly immense in its force, rushed into the hold, swallowing several members of IG-88 in an instant, lifting forklifts and cargo containers and missile parts clear into the air.

  The water rushed underneath Schofield's lifeboat, lifting it off its mounts. Schofield immediately released the craft from its davits and gunned the engine.

  Within seconds, the hold's floor was completely under water, the water level rising fast.

  And as it filled, the Talbot rolled dramatically to port—toward the fatal gash, tilting at least 30 degrees—and Schofield, blasting forward in the motorised lifeboat on the level surface of the water, saw the whole hold all around him start to roll.

  17:42:30

  From outside, it all made for a very unusual sight.

  The Eindhoven was still embedded in the side of the Talbot— while the Talbot, taking on water in incredible quantities, lay foundering half-tilted on its left-hand side, literally hanging off the bow of the Eindhoven.

  But so great was the weight of the water rushing into its belly, the Talbot was actually driving the bow of the Eindhoven under the surface as well—as such, the Talbofs long foredeck and bridge tower remained above the waterline, slanted at a steep 30-degree sideways angle, while its left-hand flank drove the Eindhoven's bow relentlessly downward, toward the waves.

  On board the Eindhoven, Rufus didn't need to be told what to do. He raced for the Raven, still parked on the foredeck of his tanker, climbed into the cockpit and lifted off into the rain-swept sky.

  17:43:30.

  Inside the rapidly-filling Talbot, Schofield was moving fast.

  In fact, very very fast.

  His motorised lifeboat whipped across the surface, slicing in between the now-slanted missile silos with Mother and Knight positioned on its flanks, shooting at their enemies floating in the water. It was like speedboating through a forest of half-fallen trees.

  After the impact, Demon Larkham and most of his men had all made for the starboard side of the hold—the high side—the only part of the hold still above water.

  Schofield, however, cut a beeline for the control console at the forward end of the missile hold.

  17:43:48

  17:43:49

  17:43:50

  His lifeboat carved through the chop, his two loyal shooters blazing away, killing IG-88 men as they whistled by.

  The lifeboat came alongside the elevated control console. The wire-frame control console was also tilted at a dramatic angle, barely a foot above the rising waterline.

  'Cover me!' Schofield yelled. From where he stood in his lifeboat, he could see the console's illuminated display screen, saw stark red numerals on it ticking downward in hundredths of a second—the countdown to missile launch.

  00:01:10.88 00:01:09.88 00:01:08.88

  The digitised hundredths of a second whizzed by in such a blur that they looked like 8s.

  Schofield pulled his CincLock-VII unit—the one he'd taken from the French—from a waterproof pouch on his vest and once again saw the unit's display.

  White and red circles hovered on the touchscreen.

  Bing.

  A message appeared:

  MISSILE LAUNCH SEQUENCE IN PROGRESS. PRESS 'ENTER' TO INITIATE DISARM SEQUENCE. FIRST PROTOCOL (PROXIMITY): SATISFIED. INITIATE SECOND PROTOCOL.

  Like before, the white circles on the screen began to blink slowly on and off.

  Schofield punched them as they did so. The countdown ticked ever-downward.

  00:01:01 00:01:00 00:00:59

  Then abruptly the Talbot lurched sharply. The entire supertanker, still hanging off the bow of the Eindhoven, was now slowly slipping off it!

  With the unexpected jolt, Schofield missed one of the white circles.

  The display beeped:

  SECOND PROTOCOL (RESPONSE PATTERN): FAILED DISARM ATTEMPT

  RECORDED.

  THREE FAILED DISARM ATTEMPTS WILL RESULT IN DEFAULT

  DETONATION.

  SECOND PROTOCOL (RESPONSE PATTERN): REACTIVATED.

  'Shit,' Schofield said.

  He started all over again.

  The supertanker was still sinking.

  He felt water lapping against his boots.

  • • •

  While Schofield punched at the touchscreen, Aloysius Knight fired at the IG-88 force on the high starboard side of the hold.

  He loosed a new burst, before suddenly he saw it.

  'Oh, no . . .' he breathed.

  'What?' Mother called.

  'The starboard-side cargo door,' Knight said. 'It's about to go

  under.'

  He was right. Owing to the leftward tilt of the ship, the massive starboard-side cargo doorway had until now been well above the

  waterline.

  But now the rising water was about to hit it. And that was very bad—because once it did, seawater would start entering the Talbot from both sides of the ship.

  After that, the Talbot would go down with frightening speed—

  'Knight!' Mother yelled. 'Check right!'

  'Oh, crap,' Knight said.

  Over to their right, six of Demon Larkham's men were climbing out of the water into two motorised lifeboats.

  They were coming for them.

  'Captain Schofield!' Knight called. 'Are you done yet?'

  'Almost. . . !' Schofield yelled, his eyes locked on the screen.

  00:00:51 00:00:50 00:00:49

  The two IG-88 lifeboats swung over to the starboard side of the water-filled hold, picked up the Demon and the remaining IG-88 force—sixteen men in total.

  Then they charged toward Schofield and the missile control

  console.

  Knight and Mother fired.

  The two IG-88 boats blasted across the water, skimming through the forest of slanted missile silos, firing as they sped.

  In the meantime, Schofield was still in his own world, punching red and white circles.

  00:00:41 00:00:40 00:00:39

  Then he hit the final white circle and the screen changed to:

  SECOND PROTOCOL (RESPONSE PATTERN): SATISFIED. THIRD PROTOCOL (CODE ENTRY): ACTIVE. PLEASE ENTER AUTHORIZED DISARM CODE.

  'All right,' Schofield said. The Universal Disarm Code. The sixth Mersenne prime was still written on his hand: 131071.

  He started punching the numerical keypad on the CincLock unit when without warning the lifeboat beneath him moved and—

  Beep!

  The screen squealed in protest.

  FIRST PROTOCOL (PROXIMITY): FAILED. ALL PROTOCOLS REACTIVATED.

  'What!' Schofield snapped his eyes up to find Knight gunning their lifeboat away from the missile console, while Mother fired off their stern at two pursuing IG-88 boats.

  They weaved in between the missile silos.

  'Sorry, Captain!' Knight yelled. 'But we had to go! We were dead if we stayed there!'

  'Yeah, well we have to get back within range of that console in about ten seconds! Because I need at least twenty-five seconds to complete the response pattern!'

  Bullet geysers raked the water all around their speeding lifeboat.

  00:00:35 00:00:34 00:00:33

  Knight brought the lifeboat round. 'How close do you have to be!'

  'Sixty feet!'

  'All right!'

  Bullets whizzed past their ears, pinged off the missile silos.

  Knight swung their boat around and brought it into a wide circular path around the steel island that was the control console, a circle that included the occasi
onal weaving run in amongst the forest of silos.

  00:00:27

  00:00:26

  00:00:25

  Schofield's screen beeped to life.

  FIRST PROTOCOL (PROXIMITY): SATISFIED. INITIATE SECOND PROTOCOL.

  The light-response display began—which meant so did Schofield's screen-tapping.

  Mother kept firing at the IG-88 boats behind them.

  Knight drove with one hand, fired with the other, careful to keep their boat within sixty feet of the control console.

  00:00:16 00:00:15 00:00:14

  But then the IG-88 boats, now aware of the circular path Knight was taking, split up.

  One of them pivoted in the water, and took off in the opposite circular direction: the effect being that the first IG-88 boat was now driving Schofield's boat toward the second one.

  Oblivious to the chase, Schofield's hands moved more quickly now.

  Red-white-white . . .

  Tap-tap-tap . . .

  00:00:11 00:00:10 00:00:09

  Knight saw IG-88's plan. He fired at the oncoming boat's driver. Blam!-blam!-blam! . . . Miss-miss-miss . . .

  00:00:08 00:00:07 00:00:06

  Schofield's hands were a blur now, tapping smoothly left and right.

  Mother hit one of their pursuers. But then roared as she took a sizzling-hot round to her shoulder.

  00:00:05 00:00:04 00:00:03

  They came on collision course with the second IG-88 boat, Knight still firing at its driver. Blam'.-blam'.-blam!. . . Miss-miss . . . Hit.

  00:00:02

  The driver flopped and fell, dead. The IG-88 boat peeled away, and Knight kept his boat within the 60-foot zone of the console.

  00:00:01

  And Schofield's hand movements changed slightly. Instead of tapping circles, it looked as if he was entering a—

  00:00:00

  Too late.

  None of the Chameleon missiles, however, fired. The countdown timer on the console was frozen at:

  00:00:00.05

  The seconds may have hit zero, but the very last second—calculated in blurring digital hundredths—had yet to fully expire when Schofield had punched in the Universal Disarm Code and hit 'enter'.

  The screen now read:

  THIRD PROTOCOL (CODE ENTRY): SATISFIED. AUTHORIZED DISARM CODE ENTERED. MISSILE LAUNCH ABORTED.

  Schofield breathed a sigh of relief. No missiles had launched. London, Paris and Berlin were safe.

  It was then, however, that the open starboard side door of the MV Talbot went slowly under the waterline.

  SHOOOOOOMH!

  The roar was absolutely deafening.

  It was, literally, like the opening of the floodgates.

  Like an invading army overwhelming its enemy's lines, an unimaginable quantity of seawater came gushing in over the threshold of the Talbot's wide starboard-side doorway.

  A wall of water—a super tidal wave of unstoppable, ravenous liquid.

  The result was instantaneous.

  The entire supertanker rolled dramatically, righting itself as the inrushing water from the starboard side began to balance off against the inflow from port.

  This righting of the Talbot, however, had one very important side-effect: it served to disengage the Talbot from the bow of the Eindhoven. And with the loss of its grip on the other supertanker, the Talbot lost its only means of staying afloat.

  And so it began to sink—at speed—into the depths of the English Channel.

  For Schofield, Knight and Mother, in their lifeboat on the water's surface inside the missile hold, the noise was all-consuming.

  The roar of the waterfall flooding into the hold echoed throughout the ship. Waves crashed against steel walls. Whirlpools formed.

  And the water level rose at frightening speed.

  Indeed, to Schofield, it seemed as if the ceiling was lowering itself toward them. Quickly.

  Within moments, they found themselves speeding along the surface halfway up the gigantic missile silos, 20 feet below the steel catwalks suspended from the roof.

  In addition to this, with the breaching of the starboard-side door, Demon Larkham and his IG-88 men broke away from their chase, heading instead for the various ladders that led to the hold's ceiling.

  'Damn, he's good,' Knight said. 'The Demon's heading topside, for the foredeck. He's going to cover all the hatches. Then he just waits for us to come up—which we'll have to do eventually.'

  'Then we have to find another way out,' Schofield said. 'All I need now is to get away from this ship and find a safe place to hole up while I disarm the missiles aimed at America.'

  Schofield pulled out his Palm Pilot to see which was the next Kormoran ship to launch.

  He called up the bundle of documents that he had seen on the Pilot before:

  He clicked on the abbreviated launch list. The full list came up:

  He saw the familiar list.

  It was the same as the one Book II had decrypted before. He saw the GPS locations of the first three boats: Talbot, Ambrose and Jewel.

  The Ambrose was next: set to fire at 12 noon from GPS co-ordinates Efl7M3.05-,mOM.S5.

  That's right, he remembered. New York.

  Wait a second, his mind stopped short.

  This list was different to Book's list.

  He looked at it more closely.

  Some of the missiles on the lower half of the list had been

  altered.

  Book's list had featured only two varieties of missile: the Shahab

  and the Taep'o-Dong.

  Yet this one featured several others in their place: the Sky Horse (from Taiwan), the Ghauri-II (Pakistan), the Agni-II (India) and the Jericho-2B (Israel).

  It also, Schofield saw, had an extra launch vessel on it—the last entry, the Arbella—set to fire more than two hours after the first group of missiles.

  This wasn't even mentioning another disturbing fact: the Taiwanese and Israeli missiles on this list were armed with American nuclear warheads, the powerful W-88—

  A withering volley of bullets smacked the water next to Schofield. He hardly noticed.

  When he looked up, he saw that Knight had brought their lifeboat alongside a ladder leading up to a ceiling catwalk. Once upon a time that catwalk had been suspended eighty feet above the floor of the hold. Now it was barely eighteen feet above the fast-rising water level.

  On it, however, sixty yards away in both directions and closing fast, were two four-man teams of IG-88 troops. They had just burst down through hatches in the ceiling and were now charging down the length of the catwalk from either end, firing hard, their bullets hitting the girders all around Schofield's boat. Ping!-ping!-ping!-ping!-ping!

  'Bastard!' Knight yelled. 'He's not waiting for us to come up. He's forcing us up!'

  Mother lifted Schofield up by the collar. 'Come on, handsome,

  you can get back to your computer later.' She hauled him out of the lifeboat and up the ladder, covering him with her body.

  They climbed the ladder quickly, shooting as they did so, reached the catwalk, where they were met by a million impact sparks.

  Mother took up a covering position while Knight led Schofield aft.

  Ping!-ping!-ping!-ping!-ping!

  Bullets were spraying everywhere.

  Knight and Schofield fired at the IG-88 men coming from the stern-end of the catwalk. Schofield went dry.

  'Are we actually going anywhere in particular!' he yelled.

  'Yes! To a safe place!' Knight called, still firing. 'A place where you can do your disarming thing, and where, at the same time, we can all get out of this sinking death-trap! Here!'

  Knight cut sharply right, running past a small maintenance shack erected at a T-junction of this catwalk and another, emerging behind the shack to behold—

  —the two yellow mini-submarines suspended on chains from the ceiling of the missile hold.

  Like the catwalks, the subs weren't very high up anymore. Seventeen feet above the water
level. A wide hood-like awning covered both the two subs and the catwalk between them. It now partially covered Schofield and Knight from the IG-88 teams.

  Ping!-ping!-ping!-ping!-ping!

  Trailing a dozen yards behind Knight and Schofield, Mother came to the maintenance shack at the T-junction, still returning fire at the IG-88 troops, now only twenty yards away from her on either side.

  Schofield watched as she tried to make a break for the mini-subs, but the IG-88 troops blocked her way with a storm of bullets.

  Mother ducked inside the shelter of the maintenance shack.

  She was cut off.

  'Mother!' Schofield yelled.

  'Get out of here, Scarecrow!' she said over the radio.

  The IG-88 men assaulted her shack with the most violent fusillade of MetalStorm rounds Schofield had seen yet.

  The shack erupted in bullet impacts.

  Mother ducked out of view—and Schofield feared that she'd been hit—but then she popped up again, firing and yelling, and took out two of the IG-88 men. 'Scarecrow! I said, get out of hereV 'I'm not leaving without you!' 'GoV She loosed two more shots. 'I won't lose you and Gant in one day!'

  Mother's voice became serious. 'Scarecrow. Go. You're more valuable than an old grunt like me." Mother looked over at him from the shack. 'You always were. My value comes in keeping you alive. At least let me do that. Now, go, you sexy little thing! Go! Go! Go!'

  And with that, Schofield saw Mother do something both courageous and suicidal.

  She stood fully upright in the windows of the shack and, issuing a primal yell of 'Yaaaahhhhhhh!', started firing with two guns at both of the IG-88 forces.

  Her sudden move stopped the two IG-88 teams in their tracks— each of them lost their front man in a gruesome fountain of blood—but crucially, it gave Schofield and Knight the opening they needed to escape.

  'Get in!' Knight yelled, hitting the 'hatch' button on one of the yellow submarines. With a quick iris-like motion, the circular hatch on top of the sub opened. 'Don't let her sacrifice count for nothing!'

  Schofield took a half-step into the hatch, looked back at Mother—just as the two IG-88 forces overwhelmed her with their fire.

  'Damn it, no . . .' he breathed.

  A volley of MetalStorm bullets hit Mother, slamming into her chest armour . . .

  Mother snapped upright, swaying, not firing anymore, her mouth open, her eyes suddenly blank—