Marauder (Oregon Files 15)

The Oregon’s venturi tubes were thrust vectored, meaning the jets of water produced by the magnetohydrodynamic engines could be pointed in different directions to steer the ship. Right now, they were straining to shove the cargo ship off her heading, with the Thai Navigator and her fixed rudder fighting back the whole way.

Eddie wasn’t sure it was going to work until he noticed the Oregon’s bow gradually starting to point away from the island.

“It’s going to be close,” Linda said.

She wasn’t exaggerating. Eddie could no longer see water between the Oregon and the shore. The island’s sandy cliffs towered over them. At times, he could hear a scraping sound coming from the island side of the ship.

Then they passed the promontory of the island’s peninsula and were back into the open water of the gulf. The Oregon backed away from the ore carrier, and the grating noise stopped. In places, the ore carrier’s hull had been stripped down to bare metal, but there were no holes visible.

“You okay up there?” Linda asked.

“No problem for me,” Eddie said. “Nice driving. Other than needing a touch-up on the paint job, I don’t think the Thai Navigator suffered much damage.”

“Thanks, but we’re not home free yet.”

The flat mangrove-fringed shore on the opposite side of the gulf was now directly in front of the Thai Navigator. At their current speed, Eddie estimated they had less than five minutes to bring the ship to a stop.

Linda kept a parallel course and lowered the gangway until it was hanging out over the water. Eddie walked out to the far end of it, ready to jump onto the Thai Navigator as soon as it was in place over the deck.

The Oregon crept closer until the gangway was five feet above the other ship’s deck. Eddie tensed to jump and made his leap just as the Thai Navigator was bumped just a fraction off course by some unseen force.

Instead of tucking and rolling onto the deck, Eddie had to reach out and snag the railing with one hand to keep from dropping into the churning wake below. He dangled there, his fingers cramping from the effort.

“Eddie,” Linda yelled. “Hold on. We’ll get the gangway under you.”

“No,” Eddie grunted. “I’ve got this.”

He swung himself around and latched onto the metal railing with his other hand, pulling himself up until he could put his foot on the deck. He hopped over and headed for the bridge.

When he got there, he found four men lying on the deck. They were all conscious but immobile except for a few arm and hand movements.

“Don’t worry, guys,” Eddie said. “I’m here to help you.”

He got only unintelligible moans in return.

The mangrove shore was much closer now. “Eric, I’m here, and we don’t have much time. What do I do now?”

“I found the bridge specs on that ship design,” Eric said. “Steering is going to be too complicated for you to handle by yourself. We’re just going to stop the ship.”

“How?”

“In the center of the console, there should be a lever labeled Engine Order Telegraph. It’ll look a lot like the handle on the RHIB’s thrust control.”

Eddie scanned the controls until he spotted it. It was above a semicircle sticking out of the console marked with STOP, DEAD SLOW, SLOW, HALF, and FULL on both AHEAD and ASTERN. It was currently set to HALF AHEAD.

“Got it,” Eddie said.

“Good. Linda thinks that you won’t be able to stop in time to avoid grounding on the shore, so you’re going to have to set the engines at full astern.”

There were several other buttons and knobs to set, and Eric guided Eddie through them. Then Eddie yanked the lever all the way back.

The Thai Navigator shuddered as the screw came to a stop, and even as it began rotating in the opposite direction, the inertia of the huge ship was still carrying it forward. The trees were growing closer with each passing second.

“We’re still moving, but we’re slowing,” Eddie said. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“I’m afraid not. Just hang on.”

While he waited, he dragged each of the crewmen so that they were lying against the front of the bridge.