The Emperor's Revenge (Oregon Files 11)

“Hey, it was my idea to use it. I just wish we could shove it down Golov’s throat.”

“Linda, are you ready?” Juan asked her. She was sitting at Murph’s normal position on weapons control.

She gave him a smile. “I’ve been ready for days.”

“Chairman, I’ve got a call for you,” Hali said. He was holding a cell phone. “It came in on Marie Marceau’s phone. I’ve been monitoring the traffic on it. The caller says it’s Sergey Golov.”

“Put it on speaker.” Hali nodded, and Juan said, “Why didn’t you stick around in Vilnius, Golov? I had more to say to you.”

“Why do you think I’m calling now? I’ve always enjoyed our interactions. And given how close we’ve become over the last week, don’t you think I should know your real name, Captain?”

“I’m happy to let you know who beat you. My name is Juan Cabrillo.”

“Captain Cabrillo,

a pleasure to meet a challenger who’s up to the task. But you have to know that an aerial attack against me is futile. You were threatening an admiral in Vladivostok during our two ships’ last engagement, but I’m sure you heard what happened. And don’t bother trying to disengage our weapons again. We’ve taken care of that issue.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” Juan said. The supply drone was now only two miles from the Achilles. “By the way, thanks for leading us to Napoleon’s treasure. You’ve made the Russians very happy.”

He knew Golov’s military history. The dig had to sting just a little.

“Yes, you got me there,” Golov said. “But you won’t get me here. Watch.”

The supply drone began to glow red. In a few seconds, its lithium-ion batteries overheated and exploded, ripping the drone apart and sending it fluttering in pieces into the sea below.

Golov came back on the line. He was laughing.

“By all means, keep them coming, Captain Cabrillo. We could use the target practice. I’m enjoying it so much, I could do this all day.”

“Actually,” Juan said, “I don’t think you can.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Watch.” Juan nodded at Gomez, who was flying a third drone, a quadcopter called a Wasp. It approached the Achilles from an angle perpendicular to the supply drone’s route. Because it was no larger than a gull, the radar signature was too small for it to be detected as it skimmed the waves under Gomez’s sure-handed piloting skills.

At that moment, the Wasp hovered next to the Achilles’s white hull. The supply drone had been a decoy to get Golov to expose the laser, bringing it out of its protective covering. The Wasp rose until it was even with the yacht’s deck. The laser’s highly polished lens was the target.

Gomez flew the Wasp up to the laser as it madly spun, searching for a new target. He lowered the drone until it was only inches from the lens. When it was in position, he detonated the two pounds of C-4 it carried.

The Wasp’s video feed went dark, but shouts Juan could hear over the phone told him all he needed to know. The drone had done its job.

“Having problems with your laser, Golov?” Juan casually asked. That brought a few smiles from his crew.

Golov came back on the line, fury in his voice. “Cabrillo, I will hunt you down and make sure that disgraceful pile of rusting metal you call a ship is reduced to fragments scattered across the bottom of the ocean.”

“I think you’d better worry about your own ship, Golov. Linda, fire one.”

“With pleasure, Chairman,” Linda said.

With the press of a button, an Exocet anti-ship missile blasted from its launcher and rocketed toward the Achilles.

FIFTY-NINE

“Flank speed!” Golov shouted, when the radar operator announced that an Exocet was on the way, and hung up on Cabrillo. “Evasive maneuvers!”

The Achilles shot forward like a drag racer. But with no way to focus its deadly beam, the laser was a total loss. And Golov couldn’t use the railgun if he didn’t know where to aim it.

He ran over to the radar station and yelled into the operator’s ear, “Find me a target!”