“I can put you right below the superstructure,” Linda said.
“Perfect,” Juan said. “We can go through the cabin window instead of the interior hallways.”
The ship layouts in Lionel Gupta’s records showed that the cabin where Juan and Linda had broken out of the Colossus 3 was one of the luxurious staterooms designed for members of the Nine. It was in the same location on the Colossus 5. They could gain access to the cabin without the risk of using the stairs inside, and, according to Gupta, the back door self-destruct system would be accessible from it.
“What’s our distance to Great Bitter Lake?” he asked Linda.
“Thirty-one miles, and we’re making five knots. We won’t reach the twenty-mile range of the Colossus 5’s microwave transmitter for another two hours.”
Juan nodded. “That gives us plenty of time to get on board, activate the self-destruct, and get back down before they can link up all four biocomputers.”
Linda surfaced the sub with the deck barely above the canal’s choppy waves. Juan pushed the hatch open. A black cliff of steel rose above them.
He turned to Linda and said, “Tell Max to start his part of the mission.”
“Aye, Chairman,” she said, and started speaking into the radio.
Juan pulled himself through the hatch opening, attached the magnetic clamps to the hull, and began to climb.
* * *
—
When Max got word from Linda that they were a go, he ordered Eric to begin maneuvering the Oregon sideways across Great Bitter Lake using her thrusters. The raging storm had reduced visibility to zero, but to anyone watching on radar it would look like the Oregon was adrift and heading straight for the Colossus ships.
When they were within a half mile of the Colossus 1, Max hailed her from his seat in the command chair.
“Colossus 1, this is the Norego. Be advised our anchor failed and we are drifting in your direction.”
“We are also at anchor, Norego,” came the reply in heavily accented Chinese. “We cannot raise it fast enough to keep from colliding.”
“Our main engines are down for maintenance, but we are attempting to use thrusters to counteract the wind.”
“Understood, Norego. We are bracing for impact.”
When the Oregon had closed the gap to three hundred yards, Max called the captain of the Colossus 1 again.
“Captain, be advised that our thrusters have begun working and we are slowing down.”
“That’s good to hear, Norego. But we are ready if you can’t stop.”
When the Oregon was within sixty feet, Max ordered Eric to bring them to a halt.
“Good news, Captain,” Max reported. “Our secondary anchor arrested our drift. We’re holding station off your port bow with the help of our thrusters. We’ll push away from you as soon as our main engines are back online.”
The sandstorm was so dense at this point that visibility was down to thirty feet, and no one on the Colossus 1 ventured out on deck. Its superstructure was hidden from its own bow by the swirling dust.
“Understood, Norego. Please keep in contact and tell us when you are ready to move.”
“Affirmative, Colossus 1. Out.”
He looked at Eric and said, “Lower the gangway.”
Using the closed-circuit cameras and the lasers in the lidar system, which could beam through tiny gaps in the airborne sand, Eric activated the retractable gangway. It rose out of the deck and extended across to the bow of the Colossus 1, just as it had during the hijacking of the Triton Star.
When it was fully deployed, Max pressed the button connecting him to Eddie’s comm unit.
“The gangway is in place,” he said. “Good hunting.”