The Spear of Atlantis (Wilde/Chase 14)

by Andy McDermott

  ‘There are roadblocks at every major intersection. Even driving a military vehicle, Rakin was stopped twice. But he was able to talk his way through.’

  ‘By “talk”, you mean he shouted at them until they backed off, right?’

  The colonel smiled. ‘I taught him well, no?’

  ‘Let’s hope you’re both loud enough to stop anyone from looking in the back,’ said Nina nervously. A barricade was visible ahead.

  The SUV approached the roadblock, slowing as a soldier waved it down. The other men on guard watched warily as it stopped. Their guns were held at the ready, but nobody had their finger on the trigger – yet.

  The soldier walked towards Rakin’s window, but Junayd wound down his own and barked an impatient demand. The man hesitated, then crossed in front of the Land Cruiser to speak to him, reacting with uncertainty when he saw a senior officer.

  Junayd did not unleash the same verbal flaying as he had upon the Humvee crew, but he still made his displeasure at being delayed clear. The soldier apologetically explained that he was merely obeying orders, but under the colonel’s increasingly hostile glare he eventually caved in, telling his comrades to move the barrier. Junayd raised his window as Rakin brought the Toyota through the blockade.

  Even with the heavily tinted glass, Nina still hunched low until they were clear. ‘One down,’ she said. ‘How many more before we get to the docks?’

  ‘I do not know, but there will be more,’ replied Junayd.

  ‘I hope your voice holds out,’ said the Emir, smiling.

  Rakin drove on, taking the Land Cruiser on a circuitous route to avoid Dhajan City’s gleaming centre, where the majority of the military forces were concentrated. Even so, he still had to make two more stops; the checkpoints were well positioned, making it impossible for anyone to traverse the city without encountering one. The first was circumvented by the same means as before: high military rank and a loud voice. The second, though, had a more senior, less easily browbeaten officer in charge. It took a few minutes of persuasion, Junayd getting out to speak to him face to face, before he allowed the SUV through, by which time the other soldiers had started to pay an uncomfortable amount of attention.

  ‘Perhaps I should show myself,’ said the Emir, as a particularly nosy sergeant retreated under Rakin’s icy stare. ‘If they know I am not dead, Alula’s lies will be exposed. They may choose to follow me.’

  ‘And they may not,’ Eddie countered. ‘It only takes one guy who’s loyal to her to fuck things up and make you dead for real. And the rest of us with you.’

  Junayd got back in, catching the tail end of the exchange. ‘I’m afraid that is true, Your Majesty. You can only show yourself if we have no other choice. It is too great a risk.’ The Emir unhappily accepted his friend’s advice.

  Rakin set off again, turning on to a wide highway along the edge of the business district. Dockyard cranes were visible at its end. ‘How much further?’ asked Nina.

  ‘Only a kilometre,’ said Junayd. ‘I do not see any roadblocks ahead, but the entrance to the docks will certainly be under guard.’

  She exchanged pensive looks with Eddie and Lobato. ‘What if they won’t let us in?’ There was an uncomfortable silence. ‘That wasn’t a rhetorical question, guys.’

  ‘Have to do what we always do,’ Eddie suggested. ‘Improvise and hope we don’t end up too deep in the shit.’

  She gave a humourless laugh. ‘The sad thing is, that’s probably the best idea any of us have.’

  ‘Ay up,’ said the Yorkshireman as the car rounded a corner. ‘There’s the ship.’

  The Atlantia came into view, the enormous vessel looking for all the world as if one of the skyscrapers had toppled into the water. ‘And there’s the checkpoint,’ Nina added. Large arched gates of white marble marked the entrance to the docks, which was blocked not only by barriers and soldiers, but also by several jeeps and, most alarmingly, a tank.

  Armed men waved the SUV to a stop at the roadblock. ‘Oh,’ said Junayd, seeing an officer in mirrored sunglasses advancing.

  ‘That did not sound like a good “oh”,’ said Nina.

  ‘I know him. Colonel Isam.’

  ‘Friend of yours?’ Eddie asked.

  ‘Unfortunately not. And he knows I am retired.’

  ‘Can you bullshit him? Tell him Alula called you in specially?’

  ‘We shall see.’ Junayd got out and marched to meet the other colonel. Isam reacted first with surprise on seeing him, then frowned.

  Even without understanding what was being said, Nina could tell the discussion between the two officers was not going their way. Isam was clearly calling Junayd out on his retirement. The older man tried to keep their conversation quiet, but his rival was having none of it, drawing increasing attention from his men. ‘I don’t think Junayd’s convincing him.’

  Eddie scanned the checkpoint for escape routes, but saw none. Too many soldiers, too many guns, and this time they were in a vehicle the tank crew would have no trouble targeting. ‘If the shit hits the fan, best option’ll be to crash the barrier and try to get behind that,’ he pointed at a small building, ‘before they turn the car into Swiss cheese. After that . . . I dunno.’

  ‘I think the fan’s about to get splattered,’ Nina warned.

  Isam jabbed an angry finger at Junayd’s chest, then called out to his men. A pair of large young soldiers advanced on the older man, whose shoulders dropped in defeat. He shot a heavy-hearted glance at the Land Cruiser, then led Isam and his companions to the 4x4. A few more words to the other officer, then he opened the rear door.

  The glowering colonel leaned in – and gasped when he saw the Emir. He started to speak, only for his ruler to raise a finger to his lips: be quiet. Junayd began a low-key but intense Arabic exchange. The Emir joined in, Isam bowing his head deferentially.

  Nina became more concerned about what was happening outside the car. The two soldiers accompanying Isam were both sidling closer, trying to peer inside. Others manning the roadblock were also moving closer. ‘Crap,’ she whispered. ‘If anyone else sees the Emir . . .’

  ‘Everyone else’ll know in no time,’ Eddie rumbled. ‘Gossip travels faster than bullets.’

  ‘Even for soldiers?’

  ‘Especially for soldiers. You have no idea how fucking boring guard duty is!’

  Isam withdrew. Junayd closed the door, but at least one of the waiting soldiers had glimpsed the man to whom their commanding officer had been talking, his mouth dropping open. Eddie tensed. ‘Tell Rakin to get ready to go,’ he said to the Emir. ‘If we have to—’

  The front passenger door opened. Everyone flinched, but it was only Junayd. He quickly took his seat as Isam shouted a command. His men opened the barrier, waving the Land Cruiser through.

  ‘What did you say to him?’ Nina asked.

  ‘I appealed to his loyalty as a patriot,’ the Emir replied, ‘and as a traditional Dhajani. No matter what his orders, what he thinks about my reforms, he agreed that if I am alive, Alula cannot be the country’s true leader.’

  ‘And you believed him?’ said Eddie.

  ‘Isam has many faults,’ said Junayd wryly, ‘but he is indeed a traditionalist. Even if His Majesty was dead, I do not think he would accept Alula as the new ruler.’

  ‘Oh, so he’s just a plain old-fashioned sexist,’ Nina snipped.

  ‘Perhaps, but it has worked in our favour.’

  ‘For now,’ said Eddie. ‘One of the soldiers back there saw the Emir. That means the whole squad’ll know he’s still alive within five minutes. And it only takes one of ’em to tell Alula’s people for the whole fucking army to come down on us.’

  ‘Then we have to act quickly,’ said the Emir. ‘The Atlantia is that way.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s kinda hard to miss,’ Nina pointed out. The tallest building in the dockyard was four storeys tall, but the liner stood five times higher, a white-and-gold metal wall slicing the facility in two.

  Rakin brought
the Toyota through the docks. The curfew had affected its workers, the only people they saw a few patrolling soldiers and some worried faces looking out from buildings. It did not take long to reach the Atlantia.

  The huge vessel required its own purpose-built dock, a great finger of concrete half a mile long lancing out into the harbour. Massive doors at its seaward end showed it was a dry dock, able to be closed and drained so the liner could be maintained below the waterline, but they were currently open. Several gangways extended into hatches along the length of the ship’s starboard side. Rakin pulled up beside the nearest, at the bow. A gantry bearing numerous thick power cables extended to the hull nearby.

  Eddie got out, helping Junayd with the Emir. ‘We likely to have any trouble once we get aboard?’

  ‘We can trust the captain,’ the Dhajani ruler replied. ‘I was personally involved with his hiring; Alula had no part of it.’

  ‘What about the crew?’ Nina asked.

  ‘Very few of them are Dhajani, so they would have no reason to support Alula over me.’

  ‘Unless you paid ’em crap wages,’ Eddie said with dark humour as they hurried up the ramp.

  A Hispanic officer appeared at the entrance, raising a hand in challenge before recognising the Emir and reacting in surprise. ‘We need to see Captain Snowcock,’ Fadil told him. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘On the bridge, Your Majesty,’ the officer said. ‘But they said on the radio—’

  ‘Everything they said is a lie. I am alive, I am still the Emir of Dhajan, and I need to speak to the captain, right now.’

  ‘Of course, of course!’ the man stammered. ‘Follow me, please.’

  The group entered the ship. With no passengers, the Atlantia had a very different atmosphere. ‘Christ, it’s like the hotel in The Shining,’ said Eddie as they traversed the deserted corridors. ‘How many people are aboard?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ the officer replied. ‘There’s a skeleton crew of about sixty people. Some of them went ashore after we arrived this morning, but when the curfew started they weren’t allowed back.’

  ‘Are there enough people to run the ship?’ Nina asked.

  ‘I don’t know, but we’ve only just docked for repairs – we aren’t setting sail again for a few weeks.’ He sensed the new arrivals knew something he didn’t. ‘Are we?’

  ‘You might want to put your sea legs back on,’ said Eddie.

  They reached the lifts, riding up to Deck 16 and emerging on the landing behind the bridge. The officer used his ID card to open the door, then ushered everyone inside. ‘Captain!’ he called out.

  Snowcock was talking to another officer. He turned, gasping when he saw the Emir. ‘Your Majesty!’ he cried. ‘Are you all right? We were told you’d been killed!’

  ‘I am still alive, Captain,’ the Emir told him, gesturing for Eddie and Junayd to let him stand unaided. They released their hold; he grimaced, but held firm. ‘My sister has launched a coup d’état, and tried to murder me. She failed, thanks to my friends,’ he indicated his companions, ‘but there is a much greater danger. How soon can you get the ship under way?’

  Snowcock stared at him. ‘Under way, Your Majesty?’

  ‘Yes. We have to catch the Pacifia. There is a bomb aboard, as powerful as a nuclear weapon. Alula intends to drive the ship into Bahrain harbour to destroy the American naval base and the entire city – and cause a tidal wave that will devastate Qatar, Saudi Arabia and even Dhajan itself. The Atlantia is our only hope of stopping her.’

  The captain’s eyes went wide. ‘I . . . Okay, I guess we need to get under way!’ He took in the status displays. ‘We’re currently on shore power so we don’t have to run the gas turbines in dock, but the batteries are at . . . seventy-two per cent charge. We can run entirely on them until the turbines complete their start-up sequence. If we shut down all non-essential power to the passenger decks, that’ll give us some extra juice.’

  ‘Are there enough crew to run the ship?’ Nina asked.

  Snowcock questioned another officer. From his concerned expression, the answer was right on the borderline. ‘As long as we don’t have an emergency situation . . . yes.’

  ‘Can’t guarantee that,’ said Eddie ominously. ‘What about the turbines? How long will they take to start up?’

  ‘Ten minutes.’

  ‘You had better begin right away,’ said the Emir. ‘We need to leave dock. Now.’

  ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ Snowcock replied, with deep trepidation. He raised his voice to a commanding bark. ‘You heard the Emir! Begin expedited departure procedure. Clear all moorings and commence gas turbine start-up.’ He continued issuing orders, the bridge officers hurrying to obey.

  ‘How long before we start moving?’ Nina asked.

  ‘We can engage the electric drive systems in under a minute,’ said Snowcock, ‘but it’ll take at least five minutes to retract all the gangways and disconnect from shore power.’

  ‘Too long,’ snapped Eddie. ‘What happens if you just, you know, go?’

  ‘We – we’ll damage the ship!’ the captain spluttered. ‘If we don’t retract the gangways, they’ll be dragged along until they either fall into the water or hit something on the dockside – and that will probably rip a hole in the hull.’

  ‘Big enough to sink us?’

  ‘No, they’re all a long way above the waterline—’

  ‘There you go. Your Maj?’

  ‘Do it,’ said the Emir.

  Snowcock took in his crew’s stunned looks, then went to the pilot’s station. ‘I’ll do this myself,’ he announced. ‘If there’s going to be any damage, I’ll take full responsibility.’

  Nina moved to the observation pulpit at the centre of the panoramic front windows. ‘You’d better do it fast!’

  Eddie ran to join her. Below, he saw several military vehicles tearing through the dockyard towards the Atlantia. ‘Alula’s people are coming!’ he shouted. A glance to port; there was a good twenty metres of open water between the liner and the dry dock’s other side. ‘Go sideways – we’ve got to pull clear of the gangways before they get aboard!’

  ‘Moorings are clear!’ an officer shouted.

  Snowcock took a deep breath. ‘Well . . . here we go,’ he said, turning all three thruster controls through ninety degrees . . . and applying power.

  The great ship tipped top-heavily towards the dockside as the azipods whirled to speed beneath it, then wallowed back upright. Nina took a firm hold of a handrail as Junayd and Rakin hurriedly supported the Emir.

  The leading jeep skidded to a halt beside the Land Cruiser. ‘Shit, they’re here!’ Eddie yelled. ‘They’ll be on the gangway any second – go, go!’ He sprinted for the starboard wing bridge. ‘Stand by to repel boarders!’ Snowcock reluctantly applied more power.

  The Yorkshireman ran into the wing bridge, vaulting down a small flight of steps to land in what was essentially the main bridge in microcosm, duplicating its primary controls. The reason it and its port-side twin existed was literally clear: the glass-walled room extended out more than twenty feet from the ship’s side, providing an unrestricted view of the Atlantia’s flank. The floor had thick glass panels set into it so the crew could view what would otherwise be a huge blind spot directly below.

  He fought momentary vertigo to look down through them. Soldiers scrambled from the first vehicle, trucks and Humvees disgorging their occupants behind it. The Atlantia was pulling away from the dockside, the gap between the white metal wall and the concrete quay opening up to reveal churning water below.

  Not fast enough. The running soldiers began to race up the gangway. ‘They’re coming! Faster!’ he shouted through the open door.

  Another surge of power – and a great wall of spray erupted from beneath the ship, sweeping across the dock and knocking the newly arrived soldiers off their feet. The wave’s force swept the gangways around, one of the smaller ones plunging into the frothing water.

  The soldiers already on the larger r
amp staggered as it lurched. A few men hastily ran back to shore, but others continued upwards. The ship pulled out still further – and the gangway’s upper end fell away from the hatch. It plunged into the water, taking the screaming soldiers with it. ‘Got ’em!’ Eddie shouted.

  The Dhajani troops resurfaced, only to be tossed helplessly against the wall by the relentless force of the ship’s thrusters. Some of the soldiers on the quayside recovered and searched for life belts to throw to their comrades.

  Others raised their weapons and took aim at the bridge.

  Triumph suddenly turned to fear. Eddie turned and launched himself up the steps. Bullets cracked against the deck and windows behind him, glass exploding. He dived into the main bridge as more rounds clanged against the bulkhead. ‘They’re not happy,’ he announced.

  The gunfire stopped. ‘Are all the gangplanks gone?’ Nina asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Snowcock, focused on manoeuvring the ship. ‘We managed to restore some of the hacked systems, but the CCTV is still down.’

  ‘Whoops, sorry,’ said Eddie, glancing at the darkened video wall at the bridge’s rear. ‘But nobody made it up the one at the front.’

  A female officer called out from the port wing bridge, warning that the ship was getting close to the other side of the dry dock. The captain quickly reversed the direction of the azipod thrusters, then turned the controls to ease the Atlantia backwards out of its berth—

  The ship jolted, sending everyone reeling. An alarm honked over the sound of metal shrilling outside. ‘What was that?’ demanded the Emir.

  ‘The power lines!’ Snowcock cried. ‘They’re still connected!’

  ‘I can see them,’ said Nina. The cables running to the bow were now stretched taut, the gantry visibly twisting and straining as the enormous vessel pulled at it. ‘They’re gonna break – hold on!’

  She gripped the handrail as the pylon buckled – then tore from its base and collapsed on to the quay with a colossal crash. Soldiers fled as sparking cables whipped at them. The Atlantia jolted again as it broke free, its stern swinging out diagonally into the dock. Snowcock tried to compensate—