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“I was hoping you could get the Chairman to lure this guy out into the open,” Linc said.
“That would be helpful. Maybe he’ll remember we’re up here.”
* * *
—
Juan used the ceramic knife from his combat leg to cut a length of the lifeboat rope and made a tourniquet for his bleeding arm, using his good hand and his teeth to secure it. He couldn’t bend the elbow without excruciating pain, but it didn’t seem like the round had fractured his bone.
He’d worn the prosthetic leg with the hidden compartment just in case. Now he was glad he had. He took out the .45 caliber ACP Colt Defender, which held seven rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. Clearly it was no match for the firepower he was up against. He recognized the sound of a G36 assault rifle.
Juan looked up at the top of the ridge where he knew Linc and Eddie could see him. The distance and their camouflage made them invisible. He hadn’t heard the boom of the deafening Barrett sniper rifle, which meant Linc couldn’t see Tate. The advantage Juan had was, Tate had no idea they were up there.
Juan had to lure him into the open. The fog was closing in on the ridge, so he didn’t have much time.
“I noticed you didn’t go down with your ship, Tate!” Juan shouted.
“Do you think I believe in that stupid cliché?” Tate yelled back. “That’s only for Boy Scouts like you. Besides, I wanted to come see you one last time.”
“I’m right here. Come and get me.”
“Nice try. I’ve heard about that trick leg of yours. You’ve probably got a handy little gun in there. You probably don’t have an assault rifle like I do.”
“You got me there, Tate.” Juan leaned a
round the bollard and shot off three quick rounds, trying to flush Tate out.
“Still here, Juan! You could try to hide, but remember that I know the Oregon as well as you do. Why don’t you save me some trouble and jump overboard right now? In water this cold, you’ll be dead in a couple of minutes from hypothermic shock.”
Tate seemed happy to wait Juan out and have them both go down with the Oregon, which was steadily sinking at the bow. Juan looked toward the nearest door going into the interior of the ship. Too far. Tate would cut him down before he got halfway there.
It was time to take more drastic measures and trust that Eddie and Linc were ready to help him.
He stood up and emptied his magazine in Tate’s direction until the click of the trigger was audible. He then tossed the gun on the deck and remained standing.
Tate peeked from behind the superstructure. “Well, that was pretty stupid of you. Or you’re just suicidal because I beat you.”
Juan shook his head and held his arms up in the air. “Neither. Just practical.”
Tate emerged with a pompous grin and the G36 held lazily at his side. He ambled toward Juan.
“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he said.
Juan nodded. “So have I.”
“Good-bye, Juan.”
“Just shoot already,” Juan said.
“With pleasure.” Tate stopped and took aim.
“I didn’t mean you.”
* * *
—
Through the tendrils of fog that were beginning to envelope them, Eddie saw that Tate was in the perfect position, in plain view, standing still. Tate said something and raised his rifle.
