Marauder

by Clive Cussler

  “They’re well trained,” Murph said with his artificial voice. He was now out of his hospital clothes and wearing jeans and a black T-shirt that said “I can explain it to you, but I can’t understand it for you.”

  “Their pattern is random and properly spaced,” he continued. “No way to get past them without being seen.”

  “Where is the team?” Max asked from the command chair.

  Hali was on the radio with Raven. “She says they’re in position.”

  Raven, still mending from her shoulder wound, had taken a rigid-hull inflatable boat through the harbor to the opposite side of the tarmac where she ran it ashore out of sight of the guards. Juan, Eddie, Linc, Linda, and MacD were prepared to dash to the hovercraft, but they needed a distraction to get across the open ground.

  “All right, Murph,” Max said, “lock on target with the laser.”

  Eric cleared his throat. Max was so used to Murph at the weapons station, he’d spoken without thinking.

  “Sorry, Murph,” he said. “Eric, you ready?”

  Eric zoomed in the view on the main screen until they could see a patch of grass growing out of a crack in the concrete. “Locked on.”

  “Fire.”

  In an instant, the grass erupted in a blaze of light, ignited by the laser’s invisible but intense beam.

  The guard at the front of the hovercraft jerked his head around at the small fire and got on his radio. The other two guards came running. He sent them over to check it out, and they approached the flare-up cautiously.

  Murph switched his voice to make it sound like a curious teenager. “How did this fire start way out here with not a soul in sight? Strange.”

  “Tell Juan they’re clear,” Max told Hali.

  Hali relayed the message, and Eric split the screen so it showed five black-clad figures sprinting toward the hovercraft. They disappeared behind it and a minute later reappeared atop the fuselage, dwarfed by the giant propellers. One of them eased open the external door to the cockpit, and they all quickly went through it into the darkened craft.

  The guards lost interest in the smoldering grass and continued their patrols, none the wiser that they’d just failed at their jobs.

  * * *

  —

  Juan was the last one through the door and closed it behind him. The cockpit was too cramped for all of them to fit, so Linda and MacD were already down the ladder leading to the car deck. There were two pilot seats, but only the one on the left showed wear. Touch screens surrounded the flight controls, making it look like the interior of a new airliner.

  The windows gave a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view, but the cockpit was situated well back from the sides of the hovercraft, so the guards next to it were out of sight.

  “Hali, we’re in,” Juan said into his molar mic. “Let us know if anyone is coming on board.”

  “Roger that, Chairman.”

  He followed Eddie and Linc quietly down the ladder. The car deck was pitch black, so he flipped on his night vision goggles. The clamshell doors at the stern were closed. The guards outside almost certainly couldn’t hear them, but Juan kept his sound-suppressed MP5 submachine gun ready just the same. Although this was a recon mission, all of them were fully armed. In addition to his MP5, MacD also carried his trusty crossbow.

  The deck contained twenty two-axle box trucks, the kind used to deliver packages or carry small loads of freight. They were all facing the rear doors. Even with that cargo, the space was so cavernous that it was only half full.

  “If the cargo ship is gone,” Linda asked in a whisper, “what are these trucks going back to the factory for?”

  “Good question,” Juan said. “Raising the doors will make too much noise right now. We’ll find out when we get there.”

  Hiding in the car deck wasn’t an option. They’d be spotted at first light. Juan led Eddie and Linc into the port passenger area, while MacD and Linda went starboard.

  Surprisingly, the seats were all still in place, as if the vessel were ready for another run across the English Channel. A center aisle split three-abreast seats on either side. Together, the passenger cabins had room for four hundred people, plus toilets and galleys.

  “It’s still a few hours till dawn,” Linc said. “Might as well get some shut-eye.”

  Sleep being a precious commodity, they each took a seat far from the windows and dozed off, knowing that the Oregon would warn them if someone boarded the craft.

  Juan woke when he heard Hali in his ear. He blinked as sunlight streamed through the glass.

  “Chairman, there’s an SUV coming toward the Marsh Flyer.”

  “Understood,” Juan answered. “Everyone to your hiding spots.”

  Eddie and Linc squeezed into the galley together while Juan closed himself in the port toilet. MacD and Linda would be doing the same on the other side. They reasoned that no one on the transport would be using the facilities for such a short trip.

  The lack of odor in the bathroom confirmed that it hadn’t been used recently. Juan donned his augmented reality glasses and switched them on, showing him views from the two wireless cameras he had hastily attached to the exterior of the cockpit on the way in.

  He could see the SUV park at the edge of the tarmac. A man got out and walked toward the Marsh Flyer with a powerful gait. It was Bob Parsons, dressed in a flight suit and mirrored sunglasses. He gestured to the guard and kept going.

  “Parsons and the three guards are all getting on,” Hali said.

  A few minutes later, Juan felt the engines start up, and the propellers began to spin.

  “We’ll lose radio contact with you once you cross the bay,” Hali said.

  “I’ve got my sat phone in case we need you to send in the cavalry,” Juan said.

  “Max says, ‘Happy hunting.’”

  “See you soon.”

  The propellers came up to full speed, and the hovercraft lifted up atop the cushion of air filling its rubber skirt. The Marsh Flyer rotated until it faced the shore before accelerating off the concrete and onto the water.

  Within moments, the hovercraft was racing across the bay, a white mist of seawater billowing behind them. Ten minutes later, it completed the bay crossing and reached the vast swamp of Arnhem Land, slowing to half speed as it approached the greenery.

  The thick grasses and reeds of the marsh would have fouled any boat trying to navigate through, and no wheeled vehicle would have made it a hundred feet from the coast. But the Marsh Flyer floated across the muddy bog as if it were the smoothest asphalt. Low trees dotted the landscape to either side, but there was a wide-open swath cut through them.

  The ocean was far behind them when Juan finally spotted a large white building in the distance. It was two stories tall with what looked like sophisticated air-handling units on its roof.

  “The factory is up ahead,” Juan told the rest of the team.

  “Is it okay to come out?” MacD asked.

  “Let’s wait to see if anyone comes into the passenger areas. If they do a search, be ready to fight.”

  As they got closer, Juan could now see the vehicles he’d spotted on the satellite image. Parked on the tarmac were a couple more trucks like the ones on the car deck. Next to them were half a dozen four-person hovercraft likely used for patrols or for carrying personnel back to Nhulunbuy.

  Behind all of them was a helicopter, a Bell JetRanger, the kind used for sightseeing trips.

  Juan saw a group of men waiting for them on the apron, all wearing uniforms and caps, many heavily armed.

  “We’ve got a lot of potential hostiles out there,” Juan said. “I count at least twenty, and they’re packing assault rifles by the look of it.”

  “Must be something important inside,” Eddie said.

  The hovercraft came to rest on the tarmac, and the engines powered down. A
small tractor trundled toward the hovercraft with a metal ramp to attach to the stern, and the clamshell doors swung open for unloading the trucks.

  “How are we getting off?” Linda asked.

  “We can’t sneak off without being seen,” Juan said. He’d been hoping that they could slip into the swamp undetected, but there was too much open space to cross.

  The first truck drove off the hovercraft toward an open garage door in the building. Juan didn’t hear any sounds in the passenger cabin, so he cracked the toilet door open. The cabin was empty.

  “We’re clear on this side.”

  “Same here,” Linda said.

  Linc and Eddie joined him. They could hear voices out in the car deck before each of the trucks started up and drowned them out.

  “Any ideas over there?” MacD asked.

  Eddie peeked over the bottom edge of the window.

  “All the guards are Chinese. They’re speaking Mandarin.”

  “Chinese?” Linc said. “I thought this company was supposed to be a contractor to the Australian military.”

  Juan shrugged. “That’s what the intelligence said.”

  “At least we have a way in now,” Eddie said. He had grown up in New York’s Chinatown and spent years embedded in China as a spy for the CIA, so he spoke the language like a native. “I’ll wait until one of them is alone and call him in here.”

  They went to the door leading to the car deck, and Eddie pulled it slightly ajar. He said something in Mandarin and backed away.

  A curious guard poked his head in, and Juan slammed the butt of his gun down. The guard slumped to the floor, and they pulled him inside.

  They quickly stripped him, zip-tied him, and locked him in the toilet while Eddie put on his uniform and cap and traded his submachine gun for the assault rifle. With his head down, Eddie could now easily pass for one of the guards.

  “You drive the next truck,” Juan said. “We’ll get in the back.”

  Eddie went out into the car deck. When the space was clear, he waved for them to hurry out. Linda and MacD exited from the other side, and they quickly scrambled into the back of the truck, pulling the roll-up door down behind them. MacD and Linda both lit small flashlights.

  Six crates were secured to the floor. Each of them was stenciled with the Alloy Bauxite logo.

  “I thought these trucks were empty,” Linc said. “What are they carrying in?”

  “Let’s take a look,” Juan said. He used a multi-tool to pry the lid off of one of the crates. As Eddie started up the truck and rolled it out of the hovercraft, Linda shined her light on the box’s contents.

  MacD whistled in awe. “Now, what are they planning to do with those?”

  Juan had no idea, but it couldn’t be good. The crate was filled with sticks of dynamite.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  From his office on the second floor of the factory, Angus Polk watched the trucks stream in one by one, directed to their designated spots along the assembly line. They were spaced out evenly throughout the building. Now that all the Enervum they needed had been produced and installed in the rockets that would distribute the nerve gas, it was time to cover their trail.

  The dynamite would erase any trace of their involvement, but Polk had to leave false evidence as well. Specific documents and objects had been carefully planted around the structure to survive the blast. When the inevitable investigation was conducted, all the clues would point to a secret operation by the Australian military, giving more proof to the country’s citizens that their own government was responsible for the catastrophe that was about to befall them.

  His phone buzzed, and he saw that it was his wife on video chat. He tapped on the phone, and April Jin appeared, smiling.

  “Have you seen the news lately?” she asked.

  Polk nodded. “People love conspiracy theories about Air Force bases.”

  Jin had used her plasma cannon to set one of RAAF Base Talbot’s storage buildings on fire, then purposely sent the rocket carrying the paralysis chemical over the base before it detonated above the adjacent town. Any witnesses would be convinced Talbot had been the source of the gas.

  “Between Port Cook and the Empiric,” she replied, “the Australian media is in overdrive. Social media is full of speculation about all kinds of secret experiments going on that have been hidden from the public. The public is calling for an independent investigation into the incidents.”

  “Blowing up this factory will only accelerate the chatter. How’s the Shepparton?”

  After gassing the town, Jin had taken the Marauder trimaran to rendezvous with their cargo ship after the attack on Port Cook to check in on it.

  “Captain Rathman has her on course. All the modifications have been made to the ship, and preparations are on track for when she arrives in Sydney.” The captain didn’t know what the cargo was, and he was paid amply not to ask questions. “I’m on my way to Cairns now to meet you.”

  “We’re supposed to be watching Lu’s last video today,” Polk said.

  “I know. That’s why I called, so we could watch it together.”

  Polk sat at the office desk and opened his laptop. He typed in the command to start the video and pointed his phone at the screen so Jin could watch as well.

  Lu appeared. Though he looked haggard, his expression was almost buoyant.

  “If you are watching this, congratulations. We are nearing the endgame, and after this you will hear from me no more. If you have been careful to date and have executed my plan to perfection, then the final actions should be completed without issue. You will be heroes to the cause and the beneficiary of my estate.”

  “I am so glad this is the final one,” Polk muttered.

  “Me, too,” Jin added.

  “I think it’s time for you to know the purpose of all your efforts. By now you realize that I intend to cause five million Sydneysiders to suffer some form of paralysis. The fact that you’re watching this video means that you agree to carry out my plan despite the enormous implications. It also means that I have chosen my agents wisely.”

  Lu cleared his throat and took a sip of water.

  “My motive is not revenge. I bear no ill will to Australia’s citizens. Yes, millions may die and millions more will endure a lifetime confined to a wheelchair. But the round-the-clock care the survivors will need is not a by-product of my plan, it is the entire goal. It’s the only way China will break out of its confines of regional dominance in Asia and replace the United States as the world’s preeminent superpower.”

  “How so?” Polk said.

  Jin waved her hand at him. “Shh. We’re about to find out.”

  “I am a patriot, and for too long it has been easy to isolate China. Yes, my country has been exercising its financial might throughout the world, but it’s not enough. It is too timid. I’ve argued for a long time that we should have a bolder strategy. The Party resisted my calls for expanding the empire by invasion, considering it too risky. They declined despite having decisive new weapons I developed for them like the plasma cannon, whose design was long ago stolen from the Americans and perfected by my company. So I took the weapon back, built the Marauder, and devised my own plan to extend China beyond its borders without the Party’s knowledge.”

  “He wants to invade Australia,” Jin said breathlessly.

  “How is that even possible?” Polk asked.

  “What do you think will happen when five million Australians are suddenly incapacitated?” Lu said. “The government can’t let them all die where they are. It would be inhuman. No, they would do everything in their power to save those unfortunate souls. But Australia doesn’t have the manpower. Overnight, twenty percent of their population would need special attention. I estimate at least half of them would die within days if the country didn’t undertake a massive effort to care for them. Who would they
turn to?”

  “The United States?” Polk mused.

  “Not the United States,” Lu seemed to answer him. “It’s too far away and doesn’t have enough people to send. My projections are that Australia will need at least one million caregivers immediately. And what’s the only country with the resources, manpower, and proximity to provide them? China. Thanks to some recent airline bankruptcies, a hundred spare airliners are ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice, and there are a million contract employees available to the Chinese government when they are requested.”

  Polk paused the video and looked at his wife. “You’ve got to admit, it just might work.”

  Jin nodded. “Australia will have no choice but to take the help.”

  “And with a million Chinese citizens suddenly entering the country, China has a foothold on another entire continent.”

  “Lu knows the Chinese government will want to extract concessions in return. It’s a backdoor invasion. And because the Australians already think that their own military is behind the disaster, there would be virtually no resistance to bringing them in. They’d be welcomed as saviors.”

  Polk continued the video.

  “Of course, the Chinese military will need to send units as well, purely for coordination purposes,” Lu said. “And once they are in the country, I doubt they will be leaving. In any event, a good portion of Australia’s residents will at that point be Chinese. The invasion will take place right under the Australians’ noses, and China’s land area will double in the space of a week, giving it a larger total land area than Russia. More than enough room for a billion more Chinese.”

  Lu leaned back in his chair with a satisfied look, as if he had already accomplished his goal.

  “Perhaps you disagree with my plan or simply don’t share my goals. It doesn’t matter. My name will go down in history, but Lu Yang won’t be remembered as a monster. I will be known not only as the person who saved millions of Australian lives but also as the visionary of a new era for the Chinese people. For all our sakes, I hope you complete your task and become billionaires by the beginning of the new year. Good luck and good-bye.”