Depth Charge

by Andrew Warren

  The bursts of enemy gunfire fire continued. Wood splinters exploded from the bow, as the bullets perforated his vessel's hull. Caine pushed the throttle hard. The boat leapt forward, charging directly towards the closest enemy vessel. The men on board sent one last hail of bullet's exploding towards Caine, but they were too late. They screamed and threw themselves to the deck, as Caine's boat roared closer.

  CRASH!

  For a moment, the shriek of torn wood and metal drowned out the sound of the engines. The impact reverberated through the hull, sending a shockwave of pain through his bones. As his speedboat exploded over the top of the savaged go-fast, Caine hurled the first fuel drum onto their deck. Then he grabbed the side of his boat, as he slammed back into the water with a mighty splash.

  The criminals in the crippled boat staggered to their feet. As they spun around and took aim at the fleeing boat, a haze of diesel fumes filled the air around them.

  Before they could counter-attack, Caine spun around and opened fire. His rifle sent a barrage of bullets into the slick of fuel spreading across the deck. Sparks flew as the gunfire struck the boat's hull. The fuel vapors mixed with the surrounding oxygen and ignited, erupting into a glowing fireball. The exploding fuel canister flew through the air like a rocket, burying itself in the cabin of the go-fast. Dancing tongues of orange flame engulfed the charred remains of the boat. Caine heard the men onboard screaming as the fire burned them alive. Their cries faded as he sped further away from the burning wreckage.

  Caine pushed the throttle forward. He raised his head, glancing over the splintered bow. The go-fast on his starboard side rocked up and down in the water. The explosion he had triggered had sent massive vibrations through the water. The men on the other boat were struggling to maintain their balance as the sea churned around them. Caine ignored them and plowed towards the third go-fast. The boat was moored to the submarine, and its crew were frantically unloading bundles of cocaine.

  Caine ducked down again. The Chinese sailors opened fire with their assault rifles. They attacked with military discipline, taking turns peppering his boat with fresh volleys of bullets. With each ping of metal on metal, Caine knew his speedboat was taking more damage. It wouldn’t last much longer.

  Without warning, a blast of white smoke erupted from the deck of the submarine. A bright streak flew through the air, heading towards Caine's boat.

  Caine spotted it just in time. He yanked hard on the wheel. Water sloshed over the deck as he spun the boat into a tight turn. As he sped out of the projectile’s path, he felt a wave of heat rush over him.

  A second later the missile struck the water.

  The explosion was loud and bright. A plume of water erupted into the air. The shockwaves pushed Caine’s boat forward. He rammed into the submarine, splintering more of the wood on his bow. The impact threw Caine forward, and his head struck the console. He tasted blood, but ignored the pain. His vision faded. The sound of bullets and the sloshing of the water sounded muted, distant. As if they were far away, echoing through a long, dark tunnel.

  Caine wiped the blood and sweat from his eyes. He staggered back onto his feet, remembering his insane plan.

  Got to keep moving, he thought. Keep them reacting.

  He drew his pistol and fired several rounds towards the sailors up on deck. As they scrambled for cover, he opened the next fuel drum and hurled it onto the deck of the Chinese vessel. Then he aimed his pistol at the fuel spilling out of the ruptured drum.

  Before he could fire, a dark shape leapt from the deck of the submarine. The figure slammed into him, knocking the gun from his hands. Caine stumbled backwards as his pistol slid across the deck. His back hit into the throttle lever, and the boat roared away from the submarine.

  His attacker rose to his feet. Anger flared in his dark, sunken eyes.

  Caine recognized him immediately.

  Supay!

  The former Colombian special forces soldier didn’t speak. He lunged forward, slashing at Caine with a knife.

  He knocked Supay’s knife aside each time the man thrust forward.

  The sicario was agile and well trained. While he failed to wound Caine with his lightning-fast strikes, he continued to press his attack, keeping Caine on the defensive. He slashed again and again, his onslaught relentless. Each man struggled to keep his balance as the speed boat skipped over the waves. The first man to fall would be the first man to die.

  Supay thrust again. This time the blade found a gap in Caine’s defenses. A crimson gash opened up on Caine’s right forearm.

  Caine winced, but he kept moving. Stepping backwards, he kicked over another fuel drum. The bouncing motion of the boat sent it rolling towards Supay’s legs.

  His attacker twisted sideways, but he was too late. The heavy barrel slammed into his knees. Supay stumbled and fell to the ground, smacking his head against the deck. His pupils dilated, and he groaned as he slipped into unconsciousness.

  Caine dove for the deck and grabbed his pistol. He steadied himself and aimed the weapon at Supay, ready to send a pair of 9mm rounds into the man’s head.

  Before he could fire, another impact shook the boat. Caine was knocked off his feet. He grunted as his tailbone slammed into the deck.

  Looking up, he saw the hull of another go-fast drifting next to him. The boat had plowed into his port side. The men on board fired their submachine guns as they motored past. Bullets tore across the deck, sweeping towards Caine. He rolled sideways, taking cover behind the pilot's chair.

  Caine stayed low, watching the other boat shoot past him in the water. Its speed was incredible. He guessed it was going at least eighty miles per hour or more. It spun around in the distance, turning in a wide circle and angling back towards him.

  The hairs on the back of Caine’s neck tingled. Blood thundered in his temples. He sensed something had changed on the field of battle.

  He spun his gaze back towards the submarine. It was gone.

  Must have submerged during the fighting, he thought.

  In the bubbling sea where it had previously surfaced, Caine now saw a series of long wave troughs. They lined up one after the other, like arrows, streaking though the water. Something was speeding just under the surface, heading straight towards his boat.

  He knew of only one thing that could cause a wave trail like that.

  Torpedo…

  Caine grabbed the wheel and pushed the throttle to the max. The engines screamed, and smoke began to billow from the stern.

  The attacking go-fast raced closer. It had completed its turn, and was coming around for another strafing run.

  Caine pointed his bow directly towards it. They were rushing at each other head on. His foes refused to break off. The two boats were on a collision course.

  Okay, assholes, he thought. Let's play chicken…

  He glanced back. The tiny waves were rushing closer to his stern. The torpedo was closing in… he couldn’t outrun it.

  The go-fast loomed closer through the shattered windshield. Gunfire erupted from the men onboard, peppering Caine's bow. He ducked down below the console, but held his course.

  Not yet. Closer… Closer …

  At the last second, Caine threw the wheel to the left. His boat sloshed to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with the go-fast.

  The criminals onboard spun around on the deck, aiming their machine pistols at Caine's side as he sped past. They didn’t see the torpedo racing towards them.

  Not until it was too late.

  KABOOM!

  The explosion tossed the go-fast out of the water. The boat flipped three times before it crashed back into the waves, and broke up into fragments. The ocean turned frothing white, then pink. A mixture of cocaine and blood stained the churning waters.

  Caine's ears rang from the explosion. He couldn’t hear a thing, and his brain felt like it was vibrating inside his skull. The pressure built up behind his temples, until he felt like his eyes were ready to pop. He pushed on, ignoring the pa
in. The submarine was beneath him somewhere. He knew it would have plenty of torpedoes left in its arsenal.

  He heard the scream of another high-speed motor, rushing across the water behind him. The last go-fast was bearing down on him, stalking him across the sea like a hungry cheetah, running down a gazelle.

  Caine readied another drum of fuel. He glanced over his shoulders to determine his foes’ location. The go-fast was darting and weaving across the water behind him. With a terrifying burst of speed, it accelerated and rammed Caine. The sharp, wedge-shaped prow smashed into one of his motors. Then the sleek boat fell back, as one of his two-fifty horsepower engines disintegrated and tore away.

  He glanced down at the controls. The odometer needle dropped. He was losing speed.

  He spun around and fired, emptying the magazine in his pistol. Caine hit the hull, but the bullets had little effect. The enemy accelerated again, ready to ram his last engine.

  As Caine reloaded his weapon, he saw a fist-sized object fall from the sky and bounce across the go-fast’s deck. A second later another explosion tore through the deck of the enemy boat. A fireball devoured the remains of the craft, engulfing the men and the last of the cocaine.

  A Cessna plane swooped through the air, banking low over the ocean. As it turned it dropped a rope ladder.

  Tyler, Caine thought. He’d managed to secure another plane.

  There was only one problem. The Cessna’s speed couldn’t drop below seventy miles per hour without stalling and crashing into the ocean. And with only one engine remaining, Caine's speedboat would barely get up to fifty miles per hour.

  Caine turned to the controls. The loss of the engine had thrown the boat off balance, sending the vessel careening across the water at an angle if he didn’t correct with the wheel.

  Caine grabbed a boat hook that lay in a trough next to the console. He thrust it into the air, preparing to snag the ladder as Tyler flew by. As the Cessna approached for its first extraction attempt, Caine heard a snarl of anger from the rear of the boat. He spun around.

  Supay staggered to his feet. An angry purple bruise marked the side of his forehead, but he was otherwise unharmed.

  He bared his teeth, and pointed his knife at Caine. “We have unfinished business, amigo.”

  He exploded forward, swinging his blade in a wide, deadly arc.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Supay sliced through the air with the razor-sharp blade. The knife narrowly missed Caine’s face. The gaunt man growled, and swung again. Caine parried with the boat hook, barely avoiding another deep cut across his arm.

  He swung the hook up, knocking Supay’s knife arm aside. Then he thrust forward, slamming the wood shaft of the hook into the skeletal man’s face. He heard a sharp crack. Supay stumbled backwards, blood streaming from his broken nose.

  As Caine regained his balance, he looked over the shoulder of his attacker. He saw another trough of waves, rushing closer.

  A second torpedo was powering through the water towards them.

  “You can’t win,” Caine yelled over the noise of the faltering engine, hoping to distract his foe. The Cessna sped back towards him, following the wake of the torpedo, and racing to reach Caine first. Caine squinted at the plane, estimating its speed and altitude. He only had one chance to survive this, and success depended on too many factors he couldn’t control.

  “The cocaine is gone,” he yelled at Supay. “Zhao left you dead in the water!”

  Supay’s lips twisted into a maniacal grin. With his crushed nose and sunken eyes, his face looked more skeletal than ever. Caine could barely hear the man’s words through the ringing in his ears, and the noise of the boat and the plane.

  Supay pointed at him with his knife. “It’s not over, Caine. Not until you die!”

  The Cessna swooped low overhead, and the dangling ladder flew towards them. Caine held up the hook. He felt it catch, yanking him up off the deck. His shoulder screamed as he whipped through the air. He felt like his arm was tearing from its socket. He reached up with his free hand. His fingers wrapped around the bottom rung of the ladder. He grabbed hold, just as the boat hook lost its grip and fell away into the churning seas.

  Caine looked down. The speedboat grew smaller, as the plane carried him higher into the air. He could just make out a shocked and surprised Supay glaring up at him. The white trail of the torpedo cut through the water, arching closer to the boat.

  It hit, and the speedboat disintegrated. The water around the vessel seemed to implode for a second, then it blew apart in a mighty wave of churning foam, tossing pieces of wood and metal across the sea. One second the boat was there. The next it was gone, replaced with specks of burning debris.

  Caine commenced his slow climb up into the Cessna. The task was difficult, partially from the beating Caine had taken, but more so because of the battering winds. Rung by rung, Caine pulled himself up. As he got higher the climb became easier, for there was less swing in the ladder. After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled himself inside the tiny cabin.

  A wide-eyed Julia Valencia helped him in. “Wow!” she shouted over the noise of the engine. The ringing in his ears had lessened. She closed the door, reducing the rattle inside the small six-seater. “I can’t believe you pulled that off!”

  Caine rolled onto his back wincing in pain. “That makes two of us,” he grunted. “Is your family okay?”

  She smiled. “Yes. No one was hurt. And now, thanks to you and Jack, El Lobizon will never be able to threaten me again.” She kissed him gently on the forehead. “It’s almost enough to make me forget you shot me.”

  Caine laughed, then winced as a jolt of pain shot through his battered body. “Yeah, well you drew first.”

  She mussed his hair. “Let’s try not to make a habit of it.”

  Caine forced himself to sit up. The bruises and cuts across his body throbbed in agony. He knew it would take some time to physically recover from his ordeal. He looked at Tyler in the cockpit. His partner gave Caine a thumbs up.

  “Good job bud!” Tyler shouted over the engine’s roar. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

  “Thanks.” Caine grinned. “Thought I was a dead man there for a second.”

  “Yeah, so did I.”

  Caine looked out across the ocean. They flew towards the land, and the vast plain of blue water soon transformed into a haze of green mangroves and rainforests. As the scenery streaked by, Caine closed his eyes.

  Within seconds he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  WEST VIRGINIA, UNITED STATES

  From the outside, Su Liao’s new home seemed like a paradise. The grounds surrounding her safehouse were stunning. The buildings where she worked lay deep within a red pine and spruce forest. Rugged hills rose up in the distance. A creek meandered through the woods, ending at a cascading waterfall.

  Su was grateful she could explore the natural beauty when she took breaks from her computer. She could jog, practice her tai chi or just enjoy a walk anywhere within a kilometer of her safehouse. So long as she accepted that CIA minders would always be accompanying her.

  But despite all that, Su felt like she was in prison.

  She spent most of her time working inside the secure CIA compound. Only two roads led to the remote ranch complex, one to the north and one to the south. The ranch lay deep inside the Virginian forests. There were no other houses within visible range. Aside from her minders, she never saw another soul outside, not even during her longest walks.

  But inside the complex, Su knew she was being watched. CCTV cameras and other electronic sensors watched everything. Armed guards with dogs patrolled the property day and night. They obviously believed she was a valuable prize to offer her this much protection.

  After five grueling days of debriefings by nameless men and women, Su finally learned that Caine and Tyler's mission had been a success. They had crushed El Lobizon and the Tumaco Cartel. Captain Zhao Jianyu had failed to tr
ansport any sizable quantity of cocaine onboard his submarine. And NSA SIGINT confirmed the MSS believed Su had been killed in La Paz. They were no longer searching for her.

  She was safe now, her new handlers told her. Her slate had been wiped clean. She could start over.

  She would be protected by the CIA until the day she died. In time, she would be provided with a new American identity. Assuming there were no security issues they were not yet aware of, she would begin work as a CIA analyst on their China Desk.

  But until she was cleared, Su remained a prisoner in the remote government ranch. She worked at a desktop computer with access to restricted CIA severs. She had everything she needed to provide her new government with intel from the PLA Navy’s submarine navigation program. Within forty-eight hours, Su had downloaded the movements of all known Chinese submarines. She even provided real time intelligence reports. The encrypted records logged every time a submarine surfaced to send a secure transmission to China's spy satellite network.

  So far, everything was progressing better than Su Liao had hoped.

  But she couldn’t help feeling sad. Depressed, even.

  No one here was friendly to her. Her life was devoid of warmth. There was nothing to distract herself with, not even paperback books to read. Only work, exercise, eating and sleeping.

  But worse than that, a nagging worry had wormed its way into her thoughts. Her parents… Were they really dead? Or were they still languishing in a prison somewhere, tortured on a daily basis?

  Her greatest fear was that she might never know the answer to that question.

  On her fifteenth day at the safehouse, Su had a visitor.

  Rebecca Freeling.

  “How are you holding up?” Rebecca asked as they walked together through the trees. A cloud of vapor expelled from her mouth as she spoke. The air was crisp, and a light snow dusted the cold, hard earth. Both women wore winter coats, mittens and scarfs. Golden rays of morning sunlight streamed through the bare branches of the spruce trees.