Typhoon Fury

by Clive Cussler

  Eddie unspooled the other end of the line so that he and Murph could tie it to the bunk frame as soon as it played out. If the Magellan Sun’s captain figured out what they were doing, they’d have very little time to get down to the free-fall lifeboat before the guards opened fire.

  A drill whined outside the door, and Eddie could see the bit bore through the bottom. A tube was inserted through the hole, and he could hear an acetylene torch fired up.

  Smoke began to belch into the room.

  “Time to go,” MacD said, shouldering the crossbow. He aimed at the bright orange hull of the lifeboat and fired.

  The bolt whizzed away, tethered to the nylon line. It embedded in the roof of the lifeboat, and Eddie and Murph pulled the line taut and quickly wrapped it around the bunk frame, while billowing smoke poured into the room.

  MacD was the first out. He crawled through the window and threw a nylon strap over the line. He zipped over to the lifeboat and landed on the roof.

  While Murph did the same, MacD opened the rear door of the lifeboat and went inside. Eddie knew that simply jumping overboard into the water to climb back in the waiting Gator would have exposed them to murderous fire from the deck of the Magellan Sun. The lifeboat would allow them to put some distance between them and the ship before they boarded the sub.

  By the time Murph made it to the lifeboat’s roof, the smoke inside the crewmen’s room was nearly suffocating. Eddie held his breath and squeezed through the window just as the door was bashed open, pushing the desk back. Voices shouted for them to put down their weapons, but Eddie was already gone.

  He landed on the lifeboat, cut the zip line, and ducked inside, slamming the door behind him. MacD and Murph were already strapped in.

  Now that the smoke inside the crew quarters had dissipated enough for the guards to see that they’d escaped, bullets peppered the lifeboat. Though they couldn’t penetrate the thick plexiglass windows, an alarming number of shots were making it through the fiberglass hull.

  Eddie took the nearest seat and yelled, “Go! Go!” before he even had his four-point seat belt buckled.

  MacD pulled the lever to launch the lifeboat, and gravity did the rest, the boat sliding down the rails. Eddie got his belt snapped together just as the boat hit the water, hurling him against the straps.

  The lifeboat plunged into the water, then bounced back up above the surface. MacD started the motor, and the boat surged forward. No more bullets hit them, but Eddie wouldn’t rest easy until they were back aboard the Gator.

  “Linda, we’re on our way to you,” he said. “We’ll rendezvous five hundred yards off the port bow.”

  “Meet you—” Linda replied, abruptly pausing. “Hold on. I’ve got some strange movement on board the Magellan Sun.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It looks like three of the containers are opening up.”

  Eddie unstrapped his belts and went to the small window by the captain’s seat, where MacD was driving the boat.

  He peered at the cargo ship they’d just escaped from. Men were taking potshots from the railing with assault rifles while others pointed at the fleeing lifeboat.

  But what had him most worried was the three gun barrels jutting out from where false containers had covered them.

  It was the fire control system Murph had discovered. These weren’t small-caliber machine guns meant to repel boarders. They looked like four-inch cannons big enough to sink a Coast Guard cutter, and they were slewing around to aim right at the lifeboat.

  • • •

  WHILE HIS MEN finished searching the area around the truck convoy, Tagaan watched the Magellan Sun from the dock, irate that infiltrators had made it aboard unseen. He’d learned his lesson after the debacle at the chemistry lab compound and had acquired a drone to watch over the cargo ship as it unloaded, supplementing the radar watching for any boats or ships. The only vessel to pass anywhere near was an old tramp steamer five miles to the north.

  He looked at the screen from the drone feed and saw the ship in the distance silhouetted by the moonlight glinting off the calm sea.

  “Keep an eye on that ship,” he told the drone operator. “If it comes any closer, I want to know.” Then he called on the radio to the Magellan Sun.

  “Captain, do you have the intruders on board your ship in custody?” he demanded.

  There was a hesitation before a strained voice responded, “No, sir. They got away, using our lifeboat.”

  “What! How?”

  “They went out the window, using a rope, and landed on top of the boat. I’m readying our guns now. Or do you still want them alive?”

  “It’s too late for that. Blow them out of the water. Then get ready to load the rest of the shipment onto the supply ship.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The line went dead. Tagaan turned to one of the guards.

  “Get the two Kuyogs ready to deploy. I don’t trust that captain to finish the job.”

  “Aren’t we using them on the supply ship?”

  “It will be a useful test, one way or the other.”

  “Yes, comrade.”

  Then something the captain said made Tagaan stop the guard.

  “Did you check the roofs of the trucks?” he asked

  “The roofs?” the guard repeated, confused.

  “So you didn’t. You idiot, recheck all the trucks again. Now! This time, from top to bottom. And expand your search to the jungle.”

  The guard nodded and ran off, shouting to the rest of the men.

  A flash lit up the Magellan Sun. Seconds later, the first shot from its guns echoed across the bay.

  37

  In the Oregon’s op center, Max leaned forward in the Kirk Chair as he watched the dual drone feeds on the big screen at the front of the room. On the left, he saw Juan and Linc lying flat on top of the truck as Tagaan’s men continued searching the area, with some of them venturing into the jungle. On the right was the bright orange lifeboat, dodging and weaving as the first shot from the four-inch gun splashed into the water only fifty feet off its port stern. One or two more shots and they’d have the targeting solution for a kill shot.

  There wasn’t much he could do to help Juan and Linc, but he wasn’t going to let the Magellan Sun blast Eddie, MacD, and Murph from the water right in front of him.

  Using the helm controls embedded in the arm of the chair, Max pushed the Oregon to full speed on an intercept course.

  “What’s our range to that ship?” he asked Eric, who sat at Murph’s weapons station.

  “Five miles and closing fast,” he replied.

  At this distance, their own bow-mounted 120mm cannon with its two-mile range was useless, and a torpedo wouldn’t reach the ship before it got off a dozen more shots.

  “Ready an Exocet,” he said. Guided by its own active radar, the powerful French-made antiship missile was designed to skim only six feet above the water at seven hundred miles per hour.

  “Aye, sir,” Eric said, falling back on his Navy training as he smoothly activated the weapons system. “Missile armed and ready.”

  “Fire.”

  The Oregon’s hull reverberated with the thump of the Exocet blasting from its launch tube.

  “Missile away,” Eric said. “Twenty-five seconds to target.”

  Too long, Max thought as he saw another round splash into the water, this one much closer to the lifeboat. He turned to Hali at the comm station. “Tell Eddie that the cavalry is coming, but it may not arrive in time.”

  • • •

  “ACKNOWLEDGED,” Eddie said in response to Hali. “We’re not sticking around.”

  The lifeboat was far enough from the Magellan Sun that it was out of reach of the cargo ship’s lights, and cloud cover momentarily obscured the half-moon, cloaking them in darkness. The gun had to be aimed by radar. />
  He looked at MacD and Murph. “Time to go, gentlemen.” He opened the rear hatch.

  MacD tied off the steering wheel so that it was locked in place, and he shoved the throttle to its stops. He and Murph went to the back of the lifeboat, and they all put on life vests.

  “After you,” Eddie said to Murph, who jumped through the door. MacD followed. Eddie was the last into the water.

  The lifeboat continued motoring forward, quickly leaving them behind.

  Eddie saw another flash of light from the Magellan Sun.

  “Incoming!” he yelled.

  They covered their heads, but the gesture wouldn’t do much if the gunner’s aim was off. A hit in the water anywhere near them would crush their bodies to pulp.

  A second after it fired, the shell whistled overhead and landed right on the lifeboat. It blew apart in a hail of fiberglass. Pieces of it peppered the water around them, but none of them were big enough to cause injury.

  Eddie thought that would be the end of it, but, a moment later, yet another round fired from the deck gun.

  “Another incoming!”

  “What the . . . !” MacD shouted.

  “They should think we’re dead,” Murph said at the same time.

  The round landed halfway between them and the lifeboat, rattling Eddie’s teeth, and showering them with water. The next one would blow them away.

  At that moment, Eddie saw a red flame shooting toward them, from the direction of the Oregon, just feet above the surface of the ocean. The roar of the rocket engine reached them just before it screamed by at nearly supersonic speed.

  The three of them pumped their fists and shouted as the Exocet slammed into the center of the Magellan Sun directly under the gun that had been firing at them.

  The explosion rose in a fiery plume over the midship deck, surrounded by a cloud of black smoke. It was almost immediately followed by a secondary explosion. The missile must have hit the cannon’s ammunition magazine.

  The gun mount was tossed into the sky and overboard, landing with a huge splash. Containers on the deck were crushed like aluminum cans and somersaulted across the deck.

  But that wasn’t the end of the explosions.

  Juan had mentioned over the radio that a large part of the shipment on the trucks was plastic explosives. The blast of the shipboard ammo must have been enough to set off the Semtex remaining on board because a huge explosion lit up the night sky.

  Eddie could feel the heat on his face as the Magellan Sun was ripped in half as if it were made of cardboard. The entire topside was engulfed in fire.

  Simultaneously, the bow and stern sections rose out of the ocean as water gushed into the exposed holds of the ship. They pointed skyward for a few seconds and then slipped beneath the surface, leaving only a burning oil slick to mark the cargo ship’s passing.

  The Gator’s cupola rose out of the water next to Eddie. Linda waved from the cockpit for them to come aboard.

  “Get inside, you guys,” she said. “The Chairman is in trouble.”

  38

  The guards checking the roofs of the trucks behind Juan and Linc were making quick work of it. They had only a minute left before a flashlight would catch them lying atop the cargo section of the lead truck.

  Linc nudged Juan. “Our escape route is blocked,” he whispered.

  Juan followed his gaze to the flashlights of a dozen guards scouring the jungle. And stealing the truck was out of the question since they’d have to take time to turn around and run the gauntlet of the guards behind them, all of whom were armed with automatic rifles.

  Since the road ended at a rocky hill that would be impossible to climb without being exposed to gunfire, that left only one option.

  “Looks like we’re going for a swim,” Juan replied, looking at the bay. He spoke quietly into his mic. “We need evac, Linda. What’s your ETA to the dock?”

  “Three minutes submerged,” she said, “but we can be there in a minute if we surface.”

  “No, stay under. I don’t want to tip our hand. We’ll meet you two hundred yards offshore and two hundred yards west of the supply ship.”

  “Acknowledged. See you there.”

  “Got your Spare Air?” Juan asked Linc as he removed a tiny air tank and goggles from his pack and stuffed them into his front pocket for quick access. The disposable tank had a mouthpiece and enough air for fifteen breaths.

  Linc nodded and readied his own tank and goggles.

  They edged closer to the truck’s cab, ready to climb down and make a dash for the sea, when the clouds parted. The uncovered half-moon bathed them in light.

  They froze in place, but it was too late. One of the men in the jungle spotted their silhouettes through the trees and yelled to the others.

  Juan and Linc tumbled onto the hood and to the ground as bullets raked the truck, smashing windows and tearing up the side of the hood. One of the rounds hit the still-hot radiator, and steam shot out of the grille. Another must have hit the fuel tank because Juan could smell gasoline, gushing onto the gravel road.

  “So much for a stealthy escape,” Juan said, crouching by the hood.

  “It’s a long way to the water,” Linc said. They were thirty feet from the seawall that had been built to buttress the road.

  Juan took aim at the flashlights in the jungle. “I’ll cover you. You can return the favor from behind the seawall. Go!”

  Juan opened up on the foliage, knowing he’d have to be incredibly lucky to hit anyone. Linc ran as Juan emptied his magazine. When he was out, he reloaded and stole a look behind him in time to see the huge former Navy SEAL dive over the seawall. Water erupted onto the rocks like he’d done a cannonball.

  Then he saw Linc pop up, his submachine gun at the ready.

  As Juan got into a sprinter’s stance to make his run across the open stretch of road, he looked to the dock and saw Tagaan level a scoped assault rifle in his direction.

  Juan jumped back, narrowly avoiding the rounds that whizzed past. No way was he going to cross that distance without getting hit.

  Then he heard Gomez’s voice in his ear.

  “I got you, Chairman,” he said. “Get ready to run. Linc, start firing.”

  Linc didn’t bother asking what their eye in the sky had in mind. He began hosing down the jungle with bullets.

  “Now, Chairman,” Gomez said calmly.

  Juan took off, his eyes on Tagaan as he ran. The communist no longer had his rifle aimed at Juan. Instead, he was swatting at the air with the weapon, vainly trying to smack the quadcopter drone that buzzed around him, but Gomez was too skilled a pilot to let it get hit.

  It provided just the distraction Juan needed. He raced across the road, rolled over the seawall, and slipped into the water. He didn’t surface, instead taking the Spare Air tank from his vest and clamping his teeth around the mouthpiece attached directly to the small tank.

  He breathed in and put his goggles on. The water was so clear that he could see Linc join him underwater with his own tank.

  Juan checked the compass on his wrist and pointed in the direction where he told Linda they’d meet.

  They descended to six feet to avoid the bullets hitting the water around them and began swimming.

  • • •

  “KEEP SHOOTING!” Tagaan yelled to his guards. “They’ll have to come up eventually.”

  Twenty men lined the water, firing at any shape that looked vaguely human, but no bodies bobbed to the surface.

  Tagaan had recognized the man who’d been in the missile-armed truck that had taken down the helicopter. Mel Ocampo or one of his chemists must have told him about this cargo drop. But the burning remains of the Magellan Sun meant they weren’t attempting to hijack the shipment. They were after something else.

  He didn’t know how the two men remained underwater, but he
knew that someone was going to have to pick them up. For that, he had a solution.

  “Get the Kuyogs ready to launch,” he said to his lead mechanic.

  The mechanic nodded and removed the tarps covering two objects floating in the water next to the dock. Painted a glossy black, each of the sleek watercraft was the size and shape of a Jet Ski, with the seats and handles removed. The only protrusion that interrupted the streamlined hull was a state-of-the-art imaging sensor that could detect anything bigger than a scuba diver’s marker buoy. Once the target was tagged by a laser, the internal sensor would lock on. The Kuyog would then doggedly continue its pursuit until it came within three feet of the target and detonated the hundred pounds of Semtex inside.

  An accomplished marine engineer before joining Locsin’s cause, Tagaan had designed the Kuyogs himself. Though he had only two of them tonight, an unlimited number of Kuyogs could be unleashed on a single target, which was why he’d given them the Tagalog name for swarm.

  Locsin had known that to control an island nation like the Philippines would require taking out its Navy, and the Kuyogs were specifically designed for the task. Asymmetric warfare was the term. Tagaan had learned the lesson from the bombing of the USS Cole, an American destroyer crippled by suicide bombers in a fiberglass boat that had come alongside and detonated four hundred pounds of explosives. But with Tagaan’s expertise, they now had a much more sophisticated attack plan. Hundreds more Kuyogs were already in various stages of construction, and this shipment from China was the final load that would allow a communist takeover of the country with the help of foot soldiers fueled by Typhoon.

  Tonight was supposed to have been the test run for the Kuyogs. Tagaan had been planning to launch them at the oil supply ship once the cargo was unloaded from the Magellan Sun, but now he had a real challenge. If no boat showed up to pick up the two men who’d dived into the water, he’d send them after the disguised cargo ship that had fired the missile against the Magellan Sun.