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"What are you telling me?" demanded Kanai, beginning for the first time to lose his composure.
The words came back steadily and lifelessly. "Either we continue to go around in circles or we come to all stop and drift. The truth is, we ain't going nowhere."
It was the end of the trail, yet Kanai refused to accept defeat. "We're too close to give up. Once under the bridge, no one can stop us."
"And I'm telling you, with the starboard rudder jammed forty-five degrees to port and my starboard screw useless with a broken shaft, the sooner we get off this gas can, the better."
Kanai saw it was fruitless to argue further with his chief engineer. He stared up at the great bridge. He could almost look straight up at the suspended roadway as it began to fall away astern. Less than a few hundred feet had separated s
uccess and utter failure before the Mongol Invader had been diverted by the mysterious explosion. He had come so close and defied the odds-it seemed impossible that triumph had been snatched from him at the beginning of the end.
His eyes swept the water. It was at that moment that he saw what looked like a private yacht cruising in the wake of the Invader. There is a strange look to it, he thought. Kanai was about to turn away, but then stared with sudden understanding and anger as the yacht suddenly slipped beneath the waves.
Okay, Jimmy," Pitt said to the submarine yacht's skipper. "We turned her. Now let's put those big balls of gas on the bottom."
"I only hope those devils don't set off the charges," Flett said, as he worked the controls to level the Coral Wanderer at thirty feet and make another run at the LNG tanker. If there was the slightest thought of hesitation, none showed in the old seaman's ruddy face. If anything, he looked as though he was enjoying himself for the first time in ages.
The Wanderer was running under the water as if she were a fish. Flett felt more at ease now that it looked as though they might not damage his precious boat. He set his eyes on the radar screen and the GPS to keep his course straight toward the Invader.
"Where do you want to hit her?" he asked Pitt.
"Below the engine room, port side of the stern, careful not to set off an explosion in the hull under one of those tanks. We put a charge too far forward and the whole ship could go up and everybody within two miles along with it."
"And our third and last charge?"
"Same area but on the starboard side. If we can put a pair of big holes in her stern, she should slip under the water quickly since she doesn't have a deep draft."
Giordino spoke with a curious look of satisfaction on his face. "With no screws to contend with, this run should be a piece of cake compared to the last one."
"Never count your chickens before the check clears the bank," Pitt retorted, as he had on other occasions. "We're not ready for bed yet."
52
John Milton Hay wrote, 'Luckiest is he who knows just when to rise and go home,' " quoted Jimmy Flett, as a missile launched from the Mongol Invader flashed narrowly past the submerging control cabin, exploding on impact with the water less than a hundred feet astern. "Maybe we should have taken his advice."
"They're onto us, all right," said Pitt.
"They must really be mad now that they've discovered we're the ones who broke their boat," Giordino cracked.
"She looks like she's dead in the water."
"If her crew of rats is abandoning the ship," said Giordino, as the water rose past the windshield, "I don't see them lowering the boats."
The instant the water closed over the cabin roof and the Coral Wanderer was out of sight to those on the LNG tanker, Flett dove at full speed and hung a sharp turn to starboard. And not a moment too soon. An audible thump rocked the luxury submarine as another missile struck the water and exploded almost where they would have been if not for Flett's quick maneuver.
He straightened out and set the bow on a dead-set course for the port hull of the disabled LNG tanker. Another missile burst, but farther away. The Vipers had lost their chance to destroy their nemesis. The Wanderer was now shrouded by the water and invisible to those on the ship. What little wake her propellers left behind was mostly dissipated by the time it reached the surface.
Pitt returned to the observation view port in the bow and took up his vigil again. With the big ship heaved to, this run would not be nearly as intricate or hazardous as the first assault. The Viper crew must be preparing to escape, he thought. But where? They weren't lowering the boats. They couldn't just swim away. Then something he'd seen earlier flashed through his mind.
Now was not the time to ponder variables. He had to concentrate every brain cell, focus his eyes and be ready to warn Flett again . . . and then the mammoth hull burst across the view port. It was easier this time. Flett did not close the gap at full speed as before; they were approaching a stationary ship without having to dodge its propellers.
A minute, then two, then Pitt saw the hull fill up the viewport. "We're on her, Jimmy."
Flett expertly reversed the engines to slow speed and turned parallel to the hull. In a display of masterful seamanship, he brought the sub alongside no more than six feet away. Then he increased speed as they moved toward the section of the stern that contained the engine-room machinery.
In the control cabin, Giordino studied the screen of the computerized underwater radar system intently. Slowly, he raised a hand, then waved it. "Coming up in thirty feet."
Flett dutifully made a turn, using the reverse thrusters until the bow and the charge on the end of the spar were pointing directly against the Invader's hull plates opposite the vulnerable engine room.
