The Emperor's Revenge (Oregon Files 11)

Then four things happened simultaneously.

On Golov’s phone, a photo appeared in his text messages. He started shaking in rage and grief when he saw an image of his lifeless daughter, lying in the grass.

On the port side of the Achilles, four people shot up out of the water, each balanced on a pair of water jets shooting from contraptions on their backs, before each of them landed on the deck. They unlatched their jetpacks, spit tiny air tanks from their mouths, and disappeared into the yacht’s interior.

On the deck of the Oregon, an air-to-air missile rocketed from a hidden canister toward the stationary Ka-226 helicopter. The chopper pilot banked abruptly but couldn’t escape the warhead. The helicopter and its anti-ship missiles exploded in a huge fireball.

And on the starboard side, the Oregon suddenly lurched sideways toward the Achilles.

Thrown off by the anguishing news about his beloved daughter and distracted by the sudden appearance of the odd commando raiders, Golov hesitated before he realized what he had to do. He yelled, “Fire!” just as the Oregon smacked into the Achilles’s starboard hull.

The entire bridge crew was knocked off their feet. The weapons officer recovered first and punched the button to fire the railgun.

A round blasted from the barrel. Golov got to his feet and watched the cruise ship as he shouted for them to load another shell.

He counted down the seconds until the cruise ship erupted in fire.

Instead, the hypersonic round plunged into the water a hundred feet off the big liner’s stern, spewing a gigantic fountain of water into the air.

The Oregon continued to push, preventing them from turning to aim the railgun. They had no shot at the cruise ship now.

If they could get free of the Oregon, they could once again target the transformer station and finish the mission that he and his daughter had started.

“All engines full speed ahead!” he commanded, before wheeling on Kravchuk.

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He pierced his XO with a venomous glare. “Secure the bridge and all critical areas of the ship. I want every available person searching for that boarding party. If they aren’t dead in the next five minutes, I will personally see to it that no one gets off the Achilles alive.”

SIXTY-THREE

As the Achilles surged forward, Juan, Eric, MacD, and Gretchen proceeded with caution through the interior. Juan thought there was still a chance that Antonovich was lying and leading them into a trap.

They reached the main lounge and crept through it, keeping their eyes on all of the doors. Through the panoramic windows, Juan could see the bulk of the Oregon pressed against the yacht’s hull, trying to drive her sideways and keep her from getting in position to fire on either the cruise ship or transformer station. The .30 caliber machine guns hidden in the rusty barrels aboard the Oregon had popped up and were firing at unseen targets on the deck above. Max could stop any boarding party Golov tried to send over.

Juan was sure Golov had a shipwide search going on for them. When they got to the bow end of the lounge, Juan took point and moved down the hall.

At the third cabin on the right, Juan tried the door handle, but it was locked.

With everyone ready, he kicked the door in. He rushed inside with his submachine gun prepared to fire, but the room was deserted.

“Hurry up, Eric,” Juan said. “We don’t have much time.” Gretchen kept watch at the door, and MacD prepped the C-4 they’d brought with them to sabotage the railgun.

“On it,” Eric said, taking a seat at the keyboard. The array of monitors came alive with a tap on the space bar. He input several passwords from the list Murph had sent over. The fourth one worked and he was in.

All of the file names were written in English, the universal language of hackers. Eric looked up which files had been copied most recently.

“I think this is it!” he announced triumphantly. He pointed at a file called Dynamo Break Config. He opened it to display a control panel for operating the circuit breakers remotely. “I can use the Achilles’s network to get this to Murph.”

Gretchen snapped her fingers and whispered, “We’ve got company. Main lounge.”

“Send it,” Juan said quietly.

“Already on its way,” Eric replied. “One more thing to do.” His fingers flew across the keyboard.

“You’re done,” Juan said, pulling him up. Eric resisted for a moment and tapped the ENTER key before he was yanked from the chair. A window popped up on the screen, but Juan didn’t take the time to see what it said.

Gretchen fired her MP5 in three controlled bursts at the main lounge. They were answered by screams of those hit and shouts of the remaining survivors.