Shadow Tyrants--Clive Cussler

by Clive Cussler

  “I also intercepted a call to the Indian Coast Guard. The launch is in less than forty-two minutes.”

  Juan grinned at Eric, sitting at the helm. “Your timing is impeccable, Stoney. Murph, prepare to fire the Exocet.” The anti-ship missile would reduce the launch platform, rocket, and satellite payload to burning hulks.

  “Locked onto the launch platform,” Murph said from the weapons station.

  “Fire.”

  The Exocet blasted out of its tube. The subsonic surface-skimming missile would be difficult to shoot down even for a warship more modern than the Maurya. The ancient frigate didn’t have a chance of intercepting the missile as it passed by.

  Murph said, “Two minutes to target.”

  SIXTY-THREE

  “We are tracking a missile launch!” one of the flight engineers yelled.

  Mallik leaped to his feet. “ETA?”

  “Less than two minutes. Coming from the west.”

  It had to be an attack by the approaching ship. Mallik whirled on the flight director. “Do we have a Vajra satellite over that area?”

  Kapoor gave him an astonished look. “Yes, but—”

  “Turn it on and target that region.”

  “That might—”

  Mallik snapped his fingers, and the guards raised their weapons. “Do it!” He knew the risks of activating it so close to the launch site.

  Kapoor nodded and typed on his keyboard.

  “Ninety seconds to impact,” the engineer said.

  “Vajra activating,” Kapoor said.

  Mallik waited for the mission control electronics to go down, but all the computers continued to operate.

  The man observing the radar return said, “The missile splashed down.”

  Mallik breathed a sigh of relief.

  “How long will the satellite be in range?” he asked.

  “An hour,” Kapoor said. “Long enough to launch Satellite 20.”

  “Good. Now, radio the Maurya and tell the captain to destroy that cargo ship.”

  * * *

  —

  The ever-present hum of the Oregon’s engines went silent.

  “Did the missile make it?” Juan asked Murph.

  “I don’t think so. Just before everything went black, I saw its trajectory wobbling. Vajra must have disabled its guidance chip.”

  Juan had taken a chance that there wasn’t a Vajra satellite overhead or that Mallik wouldn’t have the time or guts to use it so close to his own command ship. The bet hadn’t paid off.

  He turned to Max and said, “So Plan A didn’t work. Time for Plan B. Are your mods complete?”

  Max answered by raising crossed fingers on both hands.

  “Then you all know what to do.” Juan took the radio and binoculars sitting on the arm of his command chair and sprinted out of the room along with Murph and Eric. Linda took the conn while Max stayed at his engineering station.

  The minimal lighting and quiet halls were eerie as they made their way up to the deck. Once they got into the shoddy fake interior of the ship, the three of them separated. Juan’s destination was the bridge.

  Knowing that the Oregon’s computers might be rendered inoperable by Vajra, Max had spent every waking moment since they left the Suez finishing the modifications he’d begun when they first saw the weapon’s power. Every single system on the Oregon was computer-operated, so bypassing them had been a herculean task.

  Juan would call his orders over their simplified radios while Max and Linda would operate steering and propulsion from the op center. They still had electric power throughout the ship from their batteries, so Max could adjust thruster speed while Linda steered them by hand. Max claimed that he could get a burst from the magnetohydrodynamic main engines for a very short time in an emergency, but they would melt down from a lack of coolant if they ran for longer than a few seconds.

  Their weapons were another story. Control of the guns, torpedoes, and missiles were all normally done by computer. No amount of modification could affect the guidance chips on any of the missiles, so the Exocets and anti-aircraft missiles were now useless.

  The Gatling guns, however, just needed electricity for rotation, elevation, ammunition feed, and firing. They’d only had time to modify one of the three Gatling guns, so Juan had made sure to maneuver the Oregon so that the modified gun was facing the approaching Maurya. Murph would use a simple joystick from his position on deck to control the Gatling and would eyeball the tracer fire to aim it. The 120mm cannon had been similarly modified.

  At the same time, Eric would be operating the torpedoes. Since they ran close to the surface, it was possible that they would also be affected by Vajra and wouldn’t be able to utilize their homing sonars. Their chemically fueled propulsion wouldn’t be affected, however, and Eric would be able to guide them by the wires they trailed behind them. Each of them had been fitted with flags that would jut above the surface of the water so Eric could see them after launch.

  When he got to the bridge, Juan said into the radio, “Everyone in position?”

  They all acknowledged they were ready.

  Juan raised the binoculars and saw the frigate plowing toward them at top speed five miles out. They were still out of gun range.

  Two puffs of steam jetted from tubes on the Maurya’s deck followed by twin splashes next to the ship.

  Juan spoke into the radio again. “Prepare for evasive maneuvers. We have torpedoes in the water.”

  SIXTY-FOUR

  To the Maurya, the Oregon had to seem dead in the water once her electronics were shut down. That’s exactly what Juan wanted their captain to think so he could draw the frigate closer.

  The two torpedoes were running straight at the Oregon’s starboard side. Juan was counting on them being unguided.

  “Max, get ready to give me a burst of speed.”

  “It won’t last long.”

  “That’s all we’ll need. Murph and Eric, are you set?”

  “My fingers are twitching,” Murph said.

  “I’ve got my telescope tripod set up,” Eric replied.

  The torpedoes were now two thousand yards out and closing at fifty knots. Juan could see their wakes in the calm sea.

  “Murph,” he said. “Fire.”

  The Gatling gun spun up and unleashed its 20mm tungsten shells with a roar like it was Paul Bunyan’s chain saw. The tracer rounds splashed in a zigzag pattern by the first torpedo as Murph homed in on his target. The simple electrical stick was crude, without the precision of the computerized controls that he was used to, and aiming was tough, even for someone as skilled at video games as Murph was.

  Finally, he hit it. The torpedo’s warhead blew out a geyser of water.

  Murph switched his aim to the other torpedo, but after a few seconds of the tracers plowing into its wake he called over the radio. On its current course, it would slam into the bow of the Oregon.

  “Sorry, Chairman. I can’t get the Gatling gun to aim any lower.”

  “Understood,” Juan replied. “Max, give me full power in reverse . . . now!”

  The Oregon shot backward as the main engines jetted water out the front of the venturi tubes. The torpedo passed just in front of the bow and continued into the open ocean.

  “Eric, launch your torpedo.”

  “Aye, Chairman. Launching.”

  A torpedo was thrust out of its tube by a blast of air and steam. It trailed a fine wire linked to Eric’s joystick. As soon as it plunged into the water, an orange flag rose and cut through the water.

  “Ninety seconds to impact,” Eric said calmly.

  The Maurya must have seen the torpedo launch because she fired three more of her own and began evasive maneuvers.

  “Three fish in the water,” Juan radioed.

  “Main engines are down,” Max re
plied. “Thrusters only. We can’t evade another one.”

  “If Murph can’t get them, prepare to turn our stern toward the torpedoes to reduce our profile.”

  “Got it.”

  The torpedoes passed each other halfway between the ships. Murph had gotten the hang of his control. He blew up the first torpedo before it reached the two-thousand-yard mark.

  He got the second one right before the Gatling gun reached the limit of its travel.

  Juan called Max. “Rotate hard aport!”

  While the Oregon turned, Juan watched the Maurya through his binoculars. He could just make out the orange flag fluttering above the torpedo. The captain was doing a fine job of piloting his ship, its diesel engines pushing it hard, but there was no outrunning or evading the torpedo. Eric was too good.

  The torpedo drove into the side of the frigate, detonating right at the midline. A huge fountain of water temporarily shrouded most of the Maurya. Then, it broke in half and began to sink.

  Juan turned his attention back to the speeding torpedo coming toward them. It must have been a slower model than the ones on the Oregon, but it wasn’t slow enough.

  “Brace! Brace! Brace!” Juan shouted into the radio.

  The Oregon had almost completed its turn when the torpedo exploded near the stern, lifting the back half of the ship a few feet out of the water before rocking back and forth as it settled back. Juan had to grab hold of the wheel to keep from falling.

  The Oregon’s armor was thick, but a torpedo that size had to have caused serious damage.

  “Casualty report,” Juan called as he watched the two halves of the Maurya disappear beneath the surface.

  “Engine room reports five injured,” Max said. “Doc is on the way with her team.”

  “Damage assessment?”

  “Flooding in multiple sections, but bulkheads holding. They said it’ll take a while to get the main engines back online even if Vajra is switched off. Some electrical lines on the starboard side of the ship may be affected.”

  “Confirmed,” Murph said. “I’ve lost power to the Gatling gun controls.”

  “Same here,” Eric said. “We can’t even launch a torpedo now, let alone guide it.”

  Hali chimed in. “Apparently, they’ve already switched over to old-fashioned radio communication. I’ve been monitoring the signals from the command ship. We’re going to have more company in about thirty minutes. They have another frigate called the Kalinga, and it’s on the way to destroy us.”

  “Then we have to turn off that Vajra satellite before she gets here,” Juan said. “Tell everybody to meet at the moon pool on the double. It’s time for Plan C.”

  SIXTY-FIVE

  Thanks to Vajra, the unknown cargo ship armed with the missiles was still motionless. Twenty minutes before, the radar signature of a small boat had been reported heading from that direction toward the launch command ship, but five minutes ago, it disappeared. Mallik assumed it was a lifeboat from either the Maurya or the cargo ship, and it had sunk because of damage from the explosions they’d observed. Once the Kalinga had finished off the large ship, it could take its time searching the surrounding waters for any survivors to eliminate.

  The countdown was now T minus four minutes. There were still no impediments to a successful launch, although Mallik couldn’t relax, not so close to finishing something that had taken so long to complete. He was already envisioning what would come next. The new world.

  An alarm interrupted his reverie. Torkan rushed in carrying an assault rifle and said, “Stay here.”

  “What is it?” Mallik asked.

  “We’ve spotted smoke on the aft deck by the helicopter.”

  “Fire?”

  Torkan shook his head. “The smoke is red, like from a grenade. Or five. It’s covered the entire stern.” With the breeze from the monsoon gone, it would linger for a while.

  “We have intruders,” Mallik said. “Go get them off my ship.”

  Torkan nodded and ran out to join the rest of his security team, leaving just the two guards behind with Mallik.

  “Should we hold the launch?” Kapoor asked halfheartedly.

  Mallik sneered at him. “What do you think?”

  Kapoor turned away and announced, “T minus three minutes and counting.”

  Fearing that he would have a mutiny if there was a firefight on board, Mallik stood and went over to the control panel.

  “We are committed now. Nothing is stopping the launch. I’m going to make sure of that.”

  He tapped on the screen and brought up the command to lock out all changes to the launch sequence. The screen asked for his authorization, and he looked into the camera. The retinal scanner confirmed his identity. The screen read Abort command locked out.

  Now nothing could stop the launch.

  * * *

  —

  Using his crossbow, MacD stood atop the Gator and shot a bolt with a hook on it at the railing directly under the forward superstructure of the command ship. Juan, Raven, Linc, Eddie, and Murph stood next to him in full combat gear. When the nylon rope ladder was secured in place, Juan used his comm unit to talk quietly to Gomez, who was inside the Gator. He had already landed a dozen small drones on the stern of the ship to make it look like they were sneaking on board from that direction.

  Half of the drones were carrying smoke grenades. The other half held gunshot simulators.

  “Set them off, Gomez,” Juan said.

  “Roger that,” he answered.

  Instantly, the air was pierced by a series of loud cracks that sounded identical to multiple AK-47s firing simultaneously from different angles. As long as the smoke remained, it would be impossible to know if there was any enemy force on the stern.

  Juan quickly scaled the ladder, making sure that they were alone when he got up to the deck. Since he was right below the bridge wing, no one up there would see armed operatives climbing up from the Gator unless they leaned over the railing and looked straight down.

  Once the other five had joined Juan on deck of the command ship, Linda, who was driving the Gator, resubmerged with Gomez and stayed on station for the post-mission pickup.

  The sub/boat hybrid had been easier to modify than the Oregon. They’d used the high-speed surface mode for most of the journey from the Oregon and then dived the boat when they got close enough to be seen.

  Thanks to the files stolen from Mallik, Juan and his team had a detailed layout of the ship. Although the mission control room was buried deep in the superstructure, there was a direct path to get there. It could be easily defended, assuming they could take it in the first place.

  Juan led the way. It looked like their ruse had worked because they didn’t encounter any armed security before they reached mission control. On the count of three, Juan and his team rushed in, shouting for everyone to get down. Juan was ready to take down at least a couple of security forces, but there weren’t any, and everyone followed his command and hit the deck.

  There was someone else missing, too.

  “Who’s in charge here?” Juan demanded.

  A man with graying hair and a headset raised his hand.

  “Get up,” Juan said. “Who are you?”

  “Kapoor, the flight director.”

  “Where’s Mallik?”

  “When he heard the gunshots, he took his security men and went back to his yacht.”

  Juan looked up and saw the timer counting down from twenty-three seconds. They’d made it in time.

  “Abort the launch,” he said to Kapoor.

  “I can’t.”

  Juan raised his weapon. “Do it! Now!”

  “I can’t! Mallik has locked the system. We can’t make any changes to the launch.”

  “Murph?”

  Murph took a seat at the nearest workstation. He typed on the scre
en and shook his head.

  “He’s right. It requires Mallik’s retinal scan to unlock. Five seconds.”

  The clock ticked down . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .

  Smoke billowed at the launchpad. Then a spear of flame knifed down as the rocket lifted off.

  By the time they heard the thunderclap of its powerful engines igniting, it was already five hundred feet in the air and accelerating.

  SIXTY-SIX

  Juan advanced on Kapoor. “How long until the satellite is in position for the Vajra system to go active?”

  He pointed to a large screen above the picture window showing the status of all nineteen satellites already in orbit. They were displayed in green, while the one currently on its way into space was depicted in gray.

  Kapoor shrank back and said, “You know about that?”

  “How long?”

  “Eight minutes from launch.”

  “If we can’t abort the launch, can we stop Vajra from activating?”

  Kapoor nodded and pointed at the screen nearest to him. Juan waved Murph over to take a seat in front of it. He didn’t trust Kapoor at the controls.

  Murph started shutting it down.

  “But there’s a problem,” Kapoor said.

  “What?” Juan said.

  “Mallik has an identical setup on his yacht. He can control it via the satellite dish on board.”

  Murph slapped his hand on the screen. “He’s right. Every time I try to shut it down, someone keeps reactivating it.”

  “He must be furious by now for not taking the time to make the lockout include the Vajra satellites,” Kapoor said. “He can’t keep you from accessing the system, but you can’t stop him, either.”

  “What happens when the new satellite gets into orbit?” Juan demanded.

  “Then the system will go live automatically a minute later,” Kapoor said, cowering. “Every computer on earth will be rendered useless. After that, we won’t be able to shut any of them down ever again.”

  Many of the engineers in the room stared at Kapoor, agape at the revelation.