Piranha (Oregon Files 10)

The equipment all specifically designed for cave diving had been prepacked so that it could be donned quickly.

The Ratel was randomly firing its cannon and machine guns into the smoke, chewing up the ground and trees nearby, so Juan and Trono carried their kits to the water’s edge and hurried into them before a lucky shot found them.

In less than two minutes, they had the gear on and were stepping into the water. They sunk their clothes in the lake, leaving nothing behind to reveal where they’d gone. With weapons slung across their backs, they slipped underwater.

Juan was glad Linda had understood his coded instructions. On a mission in Indonesia, he had snuck into the Karamita ship-breaker yard by scuba diving underneath the gigantic door that admitted the cargo ships in to be illegally sawn apart for scrap. She knew he intended to do the same thing at the cement plant, swimming through the now submerged cave entrance to approach the neutrino telescope cave from the unprotected rear.

Juan was taking a big risk with this method of infiltration. Finding the cave entrance in the lake was going to be challenging, not to mention navigating through the flooded caverns to find the right passage leading to the telescope. He didn’t even know if they had enough air to make the journey.

Any chance of success hinged on complete surprise. Being outnumbered inside a cave was a recipe for disaster, and retreat wouldn’t be an option.

Finding the cave entrance might have taken them days under normal circumstances, but Juan was depending on the same device that had let them unearth the tin of photos. He took out the Geiger counter and descended to forty feet, the depth they estimated the cave to be below the lake’s surface. They were hoping that radiation from particulates in the cave carried through the water would lead them in the right direction.

Poor visibility from the silt made it harder to see more than twenty feet in front of them, but that also made it impossible for anyone to see them from above the surface. The Geiger counter, which had been tuned for maximum sensitivity, didn’t register anything above the level of the natural background radiation.

Based on the photo, Juan was sure that the cave was near the cement plant, so he kept swimming in that direction. He swept the counter back and forth, looking for even the most modest uptick.

They had traveled another hundred feet when Juan saw a slight bump in the reading. He stopped and moved the Geiger counter up and down.

There it was, ten feet above them. He kicked and a gaping maw rimmed by rocks that looked uncannily like teeth yawned before him, a black hole he would have missed without the radiation detector showing them the way. He signaled to Trono, who nodded in acknowledgment, and they switched on their dive lights as they were swallowed by the darkness. They were already ten minutes into the forty-minute deadline.

—

Linc, who had been hiding under a bush, waited until the Ratel was only a hundred yards away. At this range, he couldn’t miss. He lifted the RPG-7, so commonly seen in newcasts around the world, and triggered the weapon. The rocket-propelled grenade shot from its tube and made a direct hit on the armored vehicle, igniting the ammo inside and setting off a huge fireball.

“One down, three to sizzle,” he said, dropping down prone again.

“Nice shot,” Eddie said as they crawled away, “although my grandmother couldn’t have missed from this distance.”

Linc paused to reload the metal tube with their one remaining RPG. “I didn’t know your grandmother had a Navy rifle marksmanship medal, too.”

“Oh, she’s quite skilled,” Eddie said, grinning.

Using the cover of some trees and the lingering smoke, they sprinted to a low hillock, where they found a depression.

Another Ratel was coming their way. The driver must have seen their new position and was pumping 20mm shells into the dirt in front of them, making it impossible for either of them to rise up and take the Ratel out with the RPG.

“A little help would be much appreciated,” Eddie said into the headset radio identical to the one Linc was wearing. “We’re right about where the Ratel is plowing a new field with its weapon.”

“I see you,” Linda replied. “We’re on our way.”

Seconds later, a piercing howl preceded the impact of a rocket from the PIG. It blew apart the second armored vehicle. Two down, two to go.

From farther in the distance came the sound of another cannon firing a murderous barrage. Linc peeked over the lip of the hillock and saw the PIG take a beating.

Two of the shells smashed right through its windshield and another took off part of the hood. Eric gunned the engine, followed by the whoosh of the nitrous oxide injecting into the cylinders. The PIG screamed down the road as cannon shells tore apart trees on either side of it. It went past an outcropping and found shelter from the onslaught.

The Ratel didn’t pursue, likely expecting an ambush as soon as it was exp

osed. It waited out of range, its main gun trained on the spot where the PIG would have to come out.

It was a standoff.

“Linda, how’s Max’s baby doing,” Eddie said.

“He’s going to have a conniption when he sees what we’ve done to it,” she said. “Eric tells me the targeting control is gone. He can fire the mortars, but they’d be blind shots. There’s one rocket left, plus plenty of machine gun ammo, but the thirty-caliber rounds won’t penetrate the Ratel’s armor. He can shoot them, but he’ll need line of sight from the onboard cameras to target them.”

“That doesn’t sound so good. Maybe we should—”