Shadow Tyrants (Oregon Files 13)

“Here we thought you were dead because your trackers all but stopped moving,” Max replied, “and now we find out you’re living it up.”

“I’d bring you the Cadillac we’re driving, but you wouldn’t have anywhere to drive it on the Oregon. However, we did manage to find four bottles of 1947 Macallan scotch from Xavier Carlton’s liquor cabinet. We figured that was the least he owed us for all this trouble. Where are you?”

“Approaching the north end of the Red Sea. Not too far from you. Raven and MacD chartered a flight down here. We should be able to rendezvous with all of you in a few hours.”

“What about the Colossus ships?”

“They’re set to enter the Suez Canal tonight. The plan is to go in the same flotilla, so I convinced another cargo ship to give us their spot.”

“Good work,” Juan said. “We found out the location for the Colossus ships to link up.”

“Where?”

“Great Bitter Lake. Apparently, they didn’t want to wait for Colossus 1, 2, and 4 to traverse the entire canal before they made the connection with Colossus 5, which should arrive from Cyprus at the north end of the canal just as we’re entering from the south end.”

“So we can’t wait to stop them in open water,” Max said ominously.

“Afraid not.”

Juan understood Max’s uneasiness. Great Bitter Lake was nearly halfway between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea. To keep the artificial intelligence from becoming fully operational and taking over computers around the world, they were going to have to mount an assault on the Colossus ships in the middle of the Suez Canal.

FIFTY-THREE

THE ARABIAN SEA

The Huey was noisy and uncomfortable, but Mallik had bought the Vietnam War–era helicopter for its best feature: it used no computers. It was tough and reliable, and with extra fuel tanks its range was more than five hundred miles. Both the Kalinga and Maurya frigates, circling the launch platform at thirty miles out, were equipped with Hueys. Mallik had been joined by Torkan for the flight from the Kalinga to the Orbital Ocean launch command ship on station two miles from the platform.

The chopper settled onto the helipad, and Mallik was greeted by the flight director, Kapoor.

“What’s the situation?” Mallik asked as he walked toward the railing of the ship to watch the crane hoisting a rocket onto the launch platform.

“The rocket was not damaged by the passing monsoon.” Kapoor looked warily at Torkan, whose gaze was focused steadily on him instead of the rocket.

“How soon until you can launch?”

“We’ve been having some issues with the retrieval software on the first stage booster, but we think we’ve solved it.”

The entire launch vehicle was reusable, including the booster, which would be guided back to landing on the launchpad using its retrorocket engines after it separated from the orbital insertion stage.

“I asked you, when can we launch?” Mallik said impatiently.

Kapoor cleared his throat. “Three days, if all systems pass the checklists.”

“Three days? Why so long?”

“We’re expecting another squall to pass through during tomorrow’s launch window. To have the satellite properly positioned relative to the other nineteen already in orbit, we have limited choices in our timing.”

“I’m not stupid,” Mallik said. “Who do you think perfected those calculations?”

Kapoor bowed his head in apology. “Of course, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just get it right. And you better be ready to launch when the weather cooperates. I don’t want any more excuses. Go.”

“Yes, sir.” Kapoor went back inside to the mission control room, with its wide polycarbonate window overlooking the launch platform.

“You said you had news about Carlton?” Mallik said to Torkan.

“His plane went down over Egypt.”