River of Ruin m-5

by Jack Du Brul

  A savvy worker in the centrally placed control center slammed levers to try to close the upper gates in order to prevent a catastrophic flood like the one gushing through Pedro Miguel. He couldn’t chance ruining the mechanism by trying to close them against such a deluge, but they would hold if he could get them secure before the cannon destroyed the second doors and the chamber opened to the sea.

  The VGAS continued its deadly work, six-inch shells raining down in a steady tattoo after their thirty-mile flight. The second door protecting the lower lock absorbed shot after shot. It had been holed several times, and water spurted in high-pressure jets that doused the trapped freighter below.

  The canal employee in the control room realized he’d never beat the gun and reversed the upper doors in order to protect them, hoping that they could be deployed later under safer conditions.

  At full speed, the Englander Rose couldn’t beat the gun either.

  The ship’s bow had just entered the chamber, and was still one thousand feet from the doors, when two well-placed shots hit the lower hinges. The release was like a tsunami, a solid surge that deformed the doors into misshapen slabs before wrenching them free. The tidal wave slammed the freighter waiting below, raising it up and pushing it back. The four locomotives still attached by their tow lines didn’t stand a chance against such a titanic force. The drivers had leapt clear, but like toys, the engines were plucked from the tracks. All four were dumped into the boiling wash and dragged with the ship before the towing hawsers snapped. Caught like leaves in a liquid whirlwind, the electric locomotives continued to tumble along the rocky bottom.

  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 tog
ether, 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.”

  “You told the premier I couldn’t. .” Liu wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “It was you who recommended that I propose this operation to him.” And then he understood just how well he’d been set up by the man he considered his mentor. “There aren’t any missiles on this ship, are there?”

  Yu smiled as if to say of course not. “Only the small circle of workers who assembled them know they are mock-ups. Partially for your benefit, had you chosen to inspect them, but also because several of the more militaristic members of the politburo wanted to be on the docks in Shanghai to see them loaded. Captain Wong doesn’t even know they are dummies. The Korvald’s true reason for being here is to return the launcher/erectors, which, I might add, are genuine.”

  “You did all of this just to get me out of Hatcherly.”

  “Oh, it’s much more than that. It’s also to teach your generation that you only have power because we decide you can. There are thousands of companies under the COSTIND umbrella, each headed by men such as yourself, men who sometimes forget their place. China is going through dynamic changes, sweeping economic shifts that sometimes threaten to spill over into full-blown capitalism. Which we both know fosters thoughts of democracy. These thoughts must be crushed.

  “Tiananmen taught us that punishing the people just gives our enemies more reason to denounce us. However, targeting men like you, men whose overreaching ambition makes them vulnerable, is just as effective at reducing capitalistic, and thus democratic, aspirations. The people don’t care about men like you. They resent that your grand lifestyle is a result of their labor. They love to hear about a corrupt executive being executed for misappropriation of state funds. They see your downfall as the state protecting their interests.”

  “While we both know it’s just the state clamping down harder on their rights.”

  Yu smiled. “It’s like Ronald Reagan’s trickle-down theory. Executives, factory managers, and many others will know by what happened to you that they aren’t as free as they believe. Your defeat will keep their dreams of autonomy dormant for another ten years at least. And with them subdued, the people who work for them will remain compliant.”

  “What if I had succeeded?” Liu asked.

  “I would have reaped the rewards, but the risk of failure was too great to back you completely. I chose to give you just enough to encourage you but not enough to embolden you. That you did on your own.”

  “How much has this cost you? The gold, the mining equipment, all the ships. Was this power play worth all that?”

  “To maintain absolute control of China for another ten years? Of course. Besides, the ships are all tired rust buckets destined to be broken up. The remainder of the gold you didn’t turn over for Quintero’s televised photo opportunity has already been recovered from your vaults by Mr. Sun here. Certainly there were costs, but it seems enough damage has been done to the canal to ensure they will be recovered by Hatcherly. Freight still has to move across the isthmus and our railroad and oil pipeline are the only way.”

  “So there are explosives on the ships?”

  “More than enough for even one detonation to choke off the Gaillard Cut for at least a year,” Yu said. “Don’t you see, I took the best of your operation and discarded the rest. We don’t need to threaten America with nuclear weapons to take Taiwan. Eventually China will be rich enough that they will want to return to the fold on their own. I needed you as an example to the men who will make China rich that they do it for the good of the party, not themselves. A lesson you forgot long ago, I’m afraid.”

  So thoroughly outmaneuvered, Liu was speechless. General Yu had manipulated him perfectly, pushing him ever onward toward his own downfall. He felt the deck vibration change slightly as the engine RPMs were increased. The eight large trucks could be loaded in fifteen minutes or so since the dry dock was serviced by two overhead cranes and there was no need to be as delicate as if they were unloading the volatile strategic missiles.

  “Will I be going back with you?” he finally asked the general.

  Yu shook his head as if he was actually saddened by this. “I’m sorry, my young friend. Someone needs to remain behind and take the blame for this attempt at a corporate takeover of an entire country. I brought a briefcase full of documentation that shows this operation was entirely your doing. President Quintero and the canal director, Felix Silvera-Arias, were told this morning that it is in their best interest to keep quiet about their involvement.”

  “My family?”

  “Won’t share your fate. I promise you that.”

  “That is very generous of you.” Liu was serious. Usually wives, parents, children and other family members would be purged because of the mistakes of one man. That fear was one more way the government maintained its iron grip. “What happens now?”

  “We have a little time.” Yu reached into his jacket for his cigarettes. He offered one to Liu. “I know you quit, but considering the circumstances. .” The general lit his own cigarette first and held his lighter for Liu. “Sergeant Huai, would you care for one?”

  “Thank you, General.” Huai was left to light his own and stepped back into the shadows to wait for his orders.

  The three smoked in silence.

  “What about the treasure, General?” Liu asked, dropping the spent butt to the deck and grinding it with his heel. “Will you try to recover it?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it. I guess if it really is there, then in a month or a year we will find it for the Panamanians and turn it over to them as a gesture of goodwill. Learning about a billion dollars in gold, even if it’s already yours, is a powerful diplomatic tool.”

  An officer approached and saluted General Yu. “With Captain Wong’s compliments. The cargo is aboard. He reports that the Englander Rose has cleared the Miraflores Locks and believes it might be heading toward us.”

  “Damn. Tell the captain we can cast off in a moment. Wait, I’ll come to the bridge with you. Sergeant Huai, your sidearm, please. Give it to Mr. Liu.”

  “Sir?”

  “Your sidearm. The least we can do is let him do this honorably. But keep him covered just in case.” Yu grabbed a large briefcase from the first officer’s cabin and locked it to Liu’s wrist with a pair of handcuffs. “When it is done, take his body to his office, give some explanation to his staff and get your men out of Panama as quickly as possible.”

  “I understand, sir.” The veteran eyed Liu then turned back to the general. “May I ask one thing?”

  “What is it, man?” Yu snapped, irritated that Huai saw any ambiguities in his orders.

  “When you mentioned the costs incurred in this operation, you didn’t mention the men I’ve lost.”

>   Something in the sergeant’s tone made the general pay more attention. “It’s a soldier’s duty to do as ordered, Sergeant. It is the price of war.”

  “That’s what I thought, sir.”

  General Yu turned to follow the first officer up to the bridge.

  “The price of war,” Huai repeated and slid his pistol from its holster.

  Lauren had moved next to Mercer and slipped her arm around his waist, snuggling her head against his shoulder to wait for the inevitable. The Frenchmen spoke quietly among themselves, offering prayers perhaps or recounting the bravery of how past Legionnaires had faced death. Harry smoked through another cigarette and guzzled the last of the Jack Daniel’s. Mercer refused his offer of a hit knowing his old friend would enjoy it more.

  A nagging voice, tinny and remote, tickled Mercer’s hearing. He tried to ignore it, but it was insistent. The uncomfortable radio earpiece dangled down his chest on its slender wire. He realized that was the source of the voice and he pressed the speaker back in place. “Angel Two, this is Heaven. Over.”

  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.”