Pitt appeared on the bridge a moment later. Dirk did a double take at seeing his father dressed in the reflective silver coating of a Level A hazardous materials protective suit. “What’s with the Buck Rogers outfit?”
“We brought them along for protection when we came aboard,” Pitt said. “Bolcke’s ships are outfitted with a microwave device called ADS that’s used for crowd control, only theirs is lethal. They likely have one aboard the Salzburg.”
Dirk pointed forward. “You mean that dish on their bow?”
Pitt saw the Active Denial System aimed directly at them and tossed Dirk an extra suit. “Quick, get this on.”
Dirk was starting to slip on the Hazmat suit when he felt a burning sensation on his back. “They must have it cranked up,” he said, quickly zipping the suit up.
Pitt felt the same sensation on his face and pulled on the matching hood with faceplate, and stepped to the helm.
“Stay behind the bulkhead,” he said to Dirk, his voice muffled by the hood.
He jammed the helm control to starboard, feeling a hot sensation on his chest and arms. Standing before the shattered bridge window, he was in the device’s direct line of fire. The Hazmat suit provided some protection but didn’t block the full effect.
Positioned on the Salzburg’s bow, the system had to fire along the ship’s port side to strike the Adelaide. Pitt could avoid the weapon’s beam by sailing to the far right of the channel and tucking in behind the leading ship. Within a few minutes, he did exactly that.
Bolcke watched as the Adelaide suddenly altered course. “She’s veering to the bank. I think you got her.”
“The operator reports he had a clear strike on the bridge,” Pablo said.
Then they saw the Adelaide straighten its heading. The pursuer still maintained a slight speed advantage and continued to creep closer to the Salzburg’s stern.
“I think they might try and ram us,” Bolcke said.
Pablo looked at the navigation monitor and saw they would soon be approaching the first set of locks at Pedro Miguel. “We need to dispose of them before we are in sight of the locks.” He had a few words with the captain, then departed the bridge.
Bolcke remained where he was, glued to the rear window, watching the pursuing vessel.
Pitt maintained a safe buffer with the ship ahead. He had hoped to pull alongside the Salzburg and force her into the bank, but the appearance of the ADS on the port rail had nixed that plan. He was contemplating his next move when the Salzburg heeled over in front of him.
At Pablo’s command, the captain had turned the Salzburg hard to port. The ADS operators immediately aimed the beam at the Adelaide’s bridge. Pitt felt the familiar tingle on his skin, but it was what he saw next to the weapon that made his hair stand on end. It was Pablo and another man at the rail, shouldering rocket-propelled grenade launchers. An instant later, they fired the weapons.
“Off the bridge!” Pitt yelled as the grenades flew toward them.
With no time to flee, he dove to the floor, kicking the rudder to port as he fell.
Standing across the bridge, Dirk jumped into the side companionway.
The first grenade struck the steel face of the Adelaide’s superstructure just beneath the bridge. It fell to the deck and discharged harmlessly atop a hatch c
over.
Pablo had fired the second RPG, and his aim was on the mark. The grenade burst through the shattered window just above Pitt’s head. Its high angle of entry sent it careening off the ceiling to the rear bulkhead, where it detonated. The entire structure shook from the explosion, which incinerated the bridge in a fiery cloud of smoke and flame.
Watching from the deck of the Salzburg, Pablo smiled to himself. No man could have survived the inferno.
73
TWO THINGS SAVED PITT’S LIFE. FIRST WAS THE bounce of the grenade, which ricocheted off the rear bulkhead and detonated in front of an engineering console. The shrapnel blew up, around, and into the console—but not through it. Lying on the other side, Pitt was spared the lethal spray of exploding steel fragments.
His second salvation was the Hazmat suit. It shielded him from the flash fire that accompanied the explosion and engulfed the bridge. The blast rattled his senses, and he struggled to breathe, but he easily climbed to his feet once Dirk returned and dragged him clear of the carnage.
“Are you okay?” Dirk asked.
His ears ringing, Pitt barely heard the words. “Yes, thanks to Buck Rogers.”
Shaking off the effects of the blast, he staggered to a nearby window. “We should be about on her.” He had to yell to hear himself.