Typhoon Fury (Oregon Files 12)

Aghast, Navarro said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Garcia looked at him in astonishment. “I’m rendering aid to a stricken vessel and its passengers and crew, as

we are bound to do under maritime law.”

The smaller, more maneuverable escort vessels had already arrived at the scene of the accident and were pulling survivors aboard.

“You’re not stopping,” Navarro commanded. “You will continue on and complete this mission as ordered.”

“Are you insane? We can’t leave these people to die!”

“I already have a dead officer down there. Locsin is as cunning as he is vicious. What do you think will happen if we start crowding civilians onto this boat with him?”

“We’ll keep them up on deck.”

“No. They’ll interfere with the assignments of my officers. I won’t allow it.”

“And I will not violate my duty as master of this vessel. I won’t leave people to drown!” Garcia turned back to the first mate and waved for him to move toward the wreck.

Navarro’s hand went to his sidearm pistol. He didn’t want to use force, but the captain was leaving him no choice. He didn’t understand the threat that Locsin posed.

But Navarro didn’t have time to draw his weapon before a shrill voice shrieked over the radio.

“Transport One, this is Escort One! It’s a trap! They’re not ferry passengers! They’ve overpowered my men, but I sabotaged—” The officer was interrupted by the sound of a gunshot, and then the radio went dead.

Navarro looked back at the ferry and now saw that Escort 1 had turned and was heading back toward the prison transport. It was only two hundred yards away, and Navarro could see a man in civilian clothes on deck. He was swinging the mounted machine gun in their direction.

“Get down!” Navarro yelled as he threw himself at Garcia and tackled him to the deck. Thirty-caliber bullets riddled the bridge, shattering the glass and killing the first mate, who crumpled into the captain’s chair.

“Get us out of here!” Navarro shouted.

He peered out and saw Escort 1 start to weave back and forth, then it exploded. That must have been the sabotage the officer on Escort 1 had mentioned before he died.

Garcia scrambled to his feet and slammed the throttle to its stops.

“The navigation computer was damaged by the gunfire. I’ll have to guide us by compass.”

Navarro snatched up a pair of binoculars and saw that Escort 2 was now headed in their direction, its machine gun manned and ready to use when they were in range. “How long until we reach Dapitan City?”

“At least an hour, in these seas. We might be able to make better headway than that smaller boat. Depends on how long the squall lasts.”

Navarro recalled the captain’s conversation with the Coast Guard. “We should find out which direction the cutter is coming from and go toward it. Give me the radio.”

Garcia picked up the radio handset, chuckled ruefully, and tossed it to him. It had a bullet hole through it.

Navarro smacked his hand against the bulkhead in frustration at getting ambushed like a rookie cadet.

He got on his walkie-talkie and addressed his officers on the prison transport.

“This is Inspector Navarro. To every one of my men who is still alive, shoot to kill.”

3

VIETNAM

The massive diesel locomotive approached from the north, slowing as it neared the railroad crossing on the outskirts of Hue. Juan Cabrillo counted nine passenger cars plus the engine. The Ghost Dragons’ instruction was for Juan and Eric Stone to jump on as it passed since stopping the train would draw unwanted attention.

While Eric scanned the houses around them for spectators, Juan looked at the burner phone again, a prepaid model he’d bought in Hue. No message from Eddie. That either meant his cell phone was taken from him or he was in a situation that didn’t allow him to make contact.