Without hesitation, he jammed the throttle to its stop, and the RHIB took off like a rocket.
53
Brekker glanced back at the Oregon gaining on them from the direction of the Pearsall, amazed that such a large ship could move at that speed. But the strange cargo vessel wasn’t his highest priority, so he turned back to focus on the fishing boat ahead. Locsin was his primary target. Once he’d done away with the Filipino communist leader, he’d take care of Juan Cabrillo. He’d lure the ship back over the sunken destroyer and break its keel in two with the explosives he’d put in the ammunition magazine.
Since both Brekker and Locsin had brought their bombs aboard as agreed, blowing up the fishing boat was no longer an option. Sporadic fire was coming from it, but few of the shots were connecting with the yacht. Brekker thought Locsin simply wanted to scare him off. That wasn’t going to happen. Not when Brekker had an RPG at his disposal.
He’d acquired the rocket-propelled grenade launcher and ammo from a dealer he knew in Manila before heading out to the wreckage site. He hadn’t wanted to take a chance that NUMA had moved up their schedule and arrived while he and his men were diving on the Pearsall. Now he’d use the weapon to take out Locsin and have the world’s remaining supply of Typhoon to himself.
When Brekker’s men brought up the weapon and unpacked it, he handed over the wheel and picked up the RPG, its grenade already loaded. He wanted to deliver the final death blow himself.
He went to the yacht’s bow and knelt on the deck, the RPG on his shoulder. With the sight aimed at the fleeing fishing boat, he readied to fire.
Locsin must have seen what he was preparing to do because a fusillade of automatic rounds zinged past him, and Brekker hit the deck as the yacht swerved to avoid the shots. He’d have to fire from a prone position.
He turned back and waved to the man at the wheel, who looked at him through the bullet-riddled windshield.
“Closer!” Brekker shouted, and the driver nodded.
The yacht stayed on a steady course, and Brekker raised the RPG again, preparing to fire the kill shot.
• • •
LOCSIN WATCHED Brekker’s yacht closing the distance.
“He’s persistent,” Tagaan said as he opened another barrel to inspect its contents. “We should get rid of him. Now.”
“But he’s carrying seven barrels of Typhoon pills,” Locsin replied. He was hoping Brekker would simply make a getaway and Locsin could get the balance of the drug from him later, one way or the other. Killing him now would eliminate almost half their potential supply, and Locsin would rather concentrate on the pursuing Oregon that was looming close behind the yacht.
“Fire another volley,” Locsin ordered. “See if we can at leas
t injure enough of his men to get him to back off.”
His men unleashed another torrent of bullets, downing one of Brekker’s men, but the driver was uninjured, and the yacht continued its relentless chase.
“Comrade Locsin!” Tagaan shouted in an excited voice as he looked into the barrel he’d opened. “Come quick!”
Locsin hurried over and saw two pieces of cardboard pressed together under the remnants of the cotton batting that had been removed. He picked them up and pried them apart to find a dried flower flattened and taped to one of them. Locsin recognized it as a variety of orchid, though one he’d never seen before. Next to it was a label that read Typhoon—Cephalantheropsis inviolabilem—Mindanao.
There was no formula, but this had to be the plant with the key ingredient that Ocampo had been missing. It even gave him a lead on where to look for what must be a rare flower. The island of Mindanao in the southern Philippines was large, but with the surplus of Typhoon pills he now had, and enough new recruits, he was sure he could find more of the orchids. With the flowers in hand, Locsin could build a new laboratory and hire more chemists to create new Typhoon pills, perhaps even make it more potent than it was now.
“Do you realize what this means?” Tagaan said to him with awe.
Locsin smiled and nodded. “It means Mr. Brekker has become expendable. Then we can deal with the Oregon.”
He took the acoustic detonator from his pocket, then turned to the yacht and waved it over his head so that Brekker could see it.
When he had boarded the yacht, he didn’t know the South African mercenary had stowed a second detonator on board the yacht, but he did find the bombs in the chest right away. In fact, from the very beginning he’d planned on using one to get rid of Brekker.
• • •
BREKKER WAS getting ready to fire the RPG when he saw Locsin waving something at him. It took him a moment to realize it was the second detonator he’d handed over to make their détente work.
Why would he be showing it to me? Unless . . .
An iciness suddenly chilled Brekker’s stomach. The threat of the bombs should have been long behind them when they’d both tossed theirs overboard. Had he overlooked something?
Brekker leapt to his feet and raced back along the port railing, searching for anything that was out of place. When he didn’t spot anything unusual, he did the same with the starboard railing and froze at the sight of a thin nylon rope knotted to one of the cleats.