Typhoon Fury

by Clive Cussler

  Raven screeched to a stop and threw the crash tender into reverse just before it could be buried by the containers. They eventually settled into a jumble, blocking the alley. She backed out and turned to find a wider street that would let her through.

  By the time she reached the complex’s boat storage facility, the only spot with space large enough for a helicopter to land, it was already taking off again. Locsin looked down at her with an expression of pure hatred before the chopper banked and took him out of view.

  Raven pulled to a stop next to the abandoned fire truck, jumped out, and ran over to the passenger side. She pulled open the door, and her heart sank when she saw the interior.

  Beth was gone. Only then did Raven notice the trail of blood leading toward the helicopter’s landing zone.

  34

  To get a good view of the dock where the cargo from the Magellan Sun was being unloaded, Juan and Linc had crept uphill through the jungle and crouched behind a tree where Juan could watch through a pair of binoculars. There was so much activity around the bustling dock area that they were in no danger of being heard, but the cloud of buzzing mosquitoes around their heads was almost as loud as the men below.

  “I’m glad we’re wearing this greasepaint repellent,” Linc whispered as he swatted one of the flying menaces away from his face. “I swear, I’ve seen smaller vampire bats.”

  Juan nodded in agreement. “They’re big enough to be registered as private aircraft. I think I saw a tail number on one of them.”

  “At least it’s probably worse for those guys. The ones that are just standing around look miserable.”

  Juan counted more than two dozen men in the group, and the ones standing guard were constantly smacking their arms and necks. The oil platform supply ship loomed over the tiny dock, its crane working nonstop lowering cargo over the side, where three forklifts took turns hauling the palletized cargo toward fifteen waiting trucks idling on the road, which dead-ended at a small turnabout just past the dock. Instead of eighteen-wheeled trailers, the trucks were the three-axle types, which were better for navigating narrow mountain roads. Powerful portable lamps had been set up on the dock, but the only other illumination was provided by the headlights on the trucks and forklifts.

  They had already filled six trucks with crates big enough to hold dishwashers. Two men armed with assault rifles circulated amongst the trucks, but the main cluster of guards was positioned on the road leading up to the dock. They didn’t seem too worried about an attack from the jungle.

  “See anyone familiar?”

  Juan had been hoping Locsin was supervising this operation personally, but, so far, he was nowhere to be seen. Juan adjusted his binoculars and focused on a man bossing the others around, gesticulating wildly and shouting orders. He recognized the man immediately.

  “That’s Tagaan,” he said, handing the binoculars to Linc. “The one waving his arms around like an orchestra conductor having a seizure.”

  “Got him,” Linc said. “He looks like his head is going to explode every time he yells. That’s the one who tried to turn the PIG into Swiss cheese, right?”

  “Before I shot him out of the sky and he walked away from the crash without even a limp.”

  “I guess we should assume everyone down there has the same mutant powers.”

  “Hux says that since they’re all probably taking this Typhoon drug, wounding these guys won’t do much. Seeing the effects firsthand, I have to agree.”

  Linc grinned. “So don’t try to shoot the gun out of their hand?”

  “Only if you want them to shoot back with the other hand. But I’d prefer to get in and out without being seen at all.”

  “It looks like they’re not paying much attention to the first couple of trucks they loaded. I say we take a look inside one of them.”

  “Great minds think alike,” Juan said. He keyed his radio. “Gomez, you there?”

  “Read you loud and clear,” Gomez said over the comm link.

  “We’re ready for our sortie. We’re going to be in the headlights of one of the trucks while we break into the cargo area of the truck in front of it. We’ll need you on overwatch to let us know when we’re in the clear.”

  “All my attention is on you, since Eddie and his team are out of sight right now. You’re good to go.”

  Juan led the way, creeping through the foliage as silently as a leopard on the prowl. Despite his bulk, Linc was equally quiet, making no sound, as he followed behind.

  When they reached the first truck, they ducked behind the cab. The engine was still running so that the bright headlights wouldn’t drain the battery. Linc stuck a magnetized GPS tracker to the underside of the fender. Now they’d be able to follow the course of the convoy to where the cargo was being delivered.

  “You’ve got a bogey approaching on the opposite side of the third truck,” Gomez said in their ears. “If he keeps to the same pattern, he’ll head around the front of the first truck and back down the row. Then you’ll have about three minutes before he returns.”

  Juan sent a burst of static to acknowledge that they’d heard. He and Linc crawled under the truck, their weapons at the ready in case the guard took a look underneath.

  The clomp of boots on gravel and the occasional smack of a hand against skin announced the arrival of the guard. Juan watched his feet as the man ambled around the truck, likely bored with the duty.

  When he was out of earshot, Gomez said, “You’re clear.”

  Juan and Linc scrambled out and examined the roller door of the truck’s cargo bed. It wasn’t locked, so Linc didn’t need to extract his set of bolt cutters. Since they were at the truck farthest along the road, they were shielded from the view of the dock by the truck behind them.

  Juan eased the door up far enough for Linc to crawl inside. Juan followed him in and pulled the door down behind them. They both turned on the flashlights mounted on their weapons. There was only about two feet of space between the door and the cargo.

  “It’s good I’m not claustrophobic,” said Linc, who could barely turn his massive frame.

  “Let’s try to get a look at the cargo without leaving any trace we were here,” Juan said. He climbed up to the top of the crates, which were stacked to within a yard of the roof. According to the photo translator on Juan’s phone, the crate in the middle was marked with Chinese characters that read Machine Parts.

  He took a small crowbar from his pack and jammed it under the top. After pulling it off, he rummaged through the packing material until he’d pushed enough of it aside to see what was inside.

  “What is it?” Linc asked. “Drugs?”

  Juan ran his hand over the gleaming stainless steel propeller mounted inside a cylindrical housing. “It’s an impeller.”

  “Like for an oil pump?”

  “I don’t think so. This one looks like the high-speed kind that powers a Jet Ski.”

  Linc snorted at that. “They’re building Jet Skis? That might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of someone smuggling.”

  “It definitely raises some interesting questions about what they’re up to. They’ve gone to a lot of trouble to keep this cargo from going through a commercial port.”

  He looked at the crates on either side of him. One was labeled Machine Parts, just like the first one, but the other had characters that read Fragile and Handle With Care. There was no mention about what might be inside.

  Juan opened the crate and dug into it until he felt a brick wrapped in plastic. He took it out and saw what was printed on the side. With a sinking feeling, he looked around him and saw that at least half a dozen of the crates that stretched toward the front of the truck were also labeled Fragile.

  “I think I know why they couldn’t go through customs with this cargo,” Juan said, holding up the brick for Linc to see.

  “Oh, wonderful,” Linc said
, shaking his head. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Juan nodded, sharing Linc’s uneasiness about what he was sitting on. “It’s Semtex. Given that they have fourteen more trucks being loaded, it looks like they have enough plastic explosives to put the Oregon on the moon.”

  35

  So far, none of the Magellan Sun crewmen had noticed the missing lock on the equipment room door when they passed, but Eddie assumed their luck wouldn’t last much longer.

  “Time until you finish?” he asked Murph.

  “Got it,” Murph said, closing up his tablet and putting it in his bag.

  “Where has the ship been?” MacD asked.

  “Don’t know yet. It’ll take some time to analyze the data.”

  Eddie kept an eye on the radar image of the door. No one was outside. “What about the ship’s armaments?”

  “All I could see was that there were three linked fire control systems. They looked like guns, not missiles, but I’ve got no clue on caliber or location on the ship. I could keep looking if you want more details.”

  “We don’t have time. They must have installed them to protect the cargo from pirates.”

  “Or the Coast Guard,” MacD added.

  “Another reason to get out of here quietly,” Eddie said. “Gomez, anyone come inside lately?”

  “Not that I’ve seen,” Gomez replied. “You’re clear on drone view.”

  Eddie nodded to MacD and Murph. “Okay, let’s go.”

  MacD put up a hand. “Hold up. We’ve got movement out in the corridor.”

  The white outline of a man sauntered past on the screen of the radar imager. When he passed, Eddie said, “Give him a minute to get out of the hall.”

  Instead, the figure returned and faced the door, cocking his head at where the missing lock should have been.

  “We’ve been made,” MacD whispered.

  “We can’t let him warn the others,” Eddie said. He put his hand on the door handle. Murph moved back, and MacD raised his crossbow. “Ready?”

  MacD nodded.

  Eddie yanked the door open and was greeted by the shocked face of a ship’s crewman, identifiable because he didn’t have the muscled build of a guard.

  The man instantly threw his hands in the air when he saw the crossbow. MacD grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him inside. Murph closed the door.

  Eddie frisked the man. He held a radio in his hand, but he had no weapons. Eddie took the radio and gave it to Murph, who clipped it to his belt.

  “Is anyone else with you?” Eddie asked.

  The man shook his head. The surprise on his face was now gone. He eyed them warily.

  “Why are you on my ship?”

  “Your ship?” Eddie said. “Are you the captain?”

  The man’s lip curled into a vicious smile. “I guarantee you’ll never get off this ship alive.”

  MacD chuckled at the man’s bravado. “That sounds like something a captain would say.”

  “What is your cargo’s destination?” Eddie asked.

  “Somewhere on this island.”

  “That narrows it down,” Murph said. “Any more details on the location?”

  “Why should I tell you anything?”

  MacD shook his head in disbelief. “In case you didn’t notice, buddy, we’re the ones with the weapons.”

  “And that’s supposed to scare me? You have no idea what my employer would do to me if I told you anything.”

  “You mean Salvador Locsin?” Eddie said.

  The captain’s expression of defiance faltered, but he said nothing.

  “Yes, we know who your boss is,” Murph said. “Surprise!”

  “And we know you’ve delivered cargo to a dig on a small island,” Eddie said. “What island?”

  The captain hesitated, then his resolve completely evaporated. “I’ll tell you,” he said with a quavering voice. “But take me with you. Locsin tricked me into this job. You can make it look like a kidnapping. It’s the only way I’ll get away from him. His men are animals.”

  Eddie had heard a similar story from Dr. Ocampo and the scientists from the lab, but the captain’s transition to trembling captive seemed too abrupt. He looked at MacD and Murph. “What do you think?”

  “He might have some useful intel,” Murph said with a shrug.

  MacD peered at the captain with a furrowed brow. “Ah don’t trust him any further than Ah can throw a moose.”

  “Neither do I,” Eddie said, “but leaving him here to rat us out isn’t a much better option. He goes with us.”

  Without another word, MacD pulled out a zip tie and clasped the captain’s hands behind his back while Eddie improvised a gag from a portable tourniquet and gauze in his med kit.

  With the captain trussed up, Murph held on to him while Eddie opened the door. MacD leaned out and swept the corridor with his crossbow. When he had checked both directions, he nodded that it was clear.

  The four of them crept down the corridor single file, with MacD in the lead and Eddie taking the rear. MacD had reached the stairwell just as the radio on Murph’s belt crackled to life.

  “I hear them coming,” an accented voice said over the handheld unit.

  Someone else rasped, “I said radio silence, you idiot.”

  Eddie and the others froze. The captain grinned wickedly at him. He must have alerted while he was offscreen in the corridor before being captured.

  MacD backed into the captain just as one of the guards charged up the stairs, firing blindly with his automatic weapon.

  MacD and Murph dived out of the way. The captain caught a round in his leg and went down, howling into his gag.

  Eddie fired back, taking out the guard with a well-placed trio of shots, but others were running up the stairs. More footsteps were pounding toward them from the direction of the equipment room.

  “This way!” Eddie yelled. Murph tried to drag the captain with him, but Eddie shouted, “Leave him!”

  They reached the end of the passageway, which had no exit door since they were two stories above the deck. Eddie pushed into the room at the end of the hall, and Murph and MacD followed him in, as bullets plunked into the wall behind them.

  It was one of the crew quarters, with three bunk beds, lockers, and a metal desk. Eddie wrenched the desk from its spot and propped it upright against the door.

  The guards outside didn’t waste any time. They began pouring rounds into the door, but the bullets were stopped by the desktop. Then the gunfire abruptly ceased.

  Eddie could hear the captain say, “I want them alive. Get a tank of acetylene. We’ll smoke them out.”

  A single, rectangular window, only two feet wide, overlooked the deck below. If the captain and his men funneled smoke into the room, it wouldn’t be able to ventilate enough air to keep them from suffocating.

  Still, the window was the reason Eddie had chosen the room. The free-fall lifeboat was cantilevered in its cradle outside, just twenty feet away and one story down.

  “Linda,” he called on his radio, “Eddie here. Extraction is about to get more complicated.” He bashed the glass with the butt of his assault rifle, shattering it. “And tell the Chairman that the ‘stealth’ part of our plan is literally out the window.”

  36

  “Sounds like our cue to leave,” Juan said to Linc when he heard Linda’s warning. “I think we’ve seen enough.”

  Juan had opened a few other crates and found more explosives and impellers, but he also discovered several sophisticated radar imaging units like those installed on self-driving cars. They were small enough that Juan took one and put it in his pack, protecting it with a dry bag in case they had to swim out to the Gator.

  Someone had used a marker to scrawl one word on the outside of the box. Kuyog. Juan’s translator app told him it was a Tagalog word meanin
g swarm.

  Juan closed up that last crate and climbed down. He patted his pack and said, “This might tell us something about what they’re building. We’ll have Stoney and Murph take a look at it when we get back.”

  “Think Locsin will miss it?” Linc asked.

  “Probably. Let’s hope they blame it on the Chinese shorting them. Ready to go?”

  Linc nodded. His hand was on the door handle.

  “Gomez,” Juan said. “How’s it looking?”

  “Hali here, Chairman. Gomez is busy with Eddie’s team, so he asked me to look out for you. You need to get out of there right now. Guards are coming your way, and it looks like they’re searching inside every truck.”

  “Got it, Hali.” Juan looked at Linc and said, “Let’s move.”

  Linc silently nudged the door up just enough for them to slip out. They each rolled onto the ground, and Linc pulled the door shut behind him.

  He was about to crawl under the truck again when Juan grabbed his shoulder. He pointed at the approaching flashlights on either side of the third truck behind them.

  While some of the guards were noisily opening all the doors and climbing in the trucks to check for intruders, others were sweeping their lights underneath.

  That made hiding below no longer an option. And if they made a run for it now, they’d have ten angry guards hot on their trail.

  Juan looked up and pointed at the top of the truck. Linc nodded that he understood.

  Juan gave the hulking former SEAL a boost so he could reach the lip of the truck’s roof. Linc slithered up and over, then leaned down to give Juan a hand. With a yank, Juan was on the roof. They flattened themselves as they heard the voices approaching.

  Both of them kept their submachine guns at the ready. If one of Tagaan’s men got the bright idea to look up above, it was going to get very messy.

  • • •

  IT’S THE VIETNAM MISSION all over again, Eddie thought, while MacD loaded a barbed bolt into his crossbow. Except, this time, he’d be using the zip line to escape instead of sneaking aboard a moving train.