Piranha (Oregon Files 10)
The deck was still at a mild slant, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Maneuvering under and around the construction equipment, Juan and Eddie snaked their way to the starboard side. At the last row of vehicles, they would have to cross ten feet unprotected to get to the stairwell door.
They crouched behind a bulldozer. Juan poked his head out and sparks flew where bullets stung the metal. He pulled back.
“Dominguez was obviously expecting that,” Juan said.
“Did you see where he was?”
“About thirty yards away. I couldn’t tell if he was alone. I don’t think we can both make it across without being hit.”
“How desperate are we to get off the boat right now?”
Juan keyed his throat mic. “Linc, tell me you’re about to shut off the ballast tanks.”
A background roar in his earpiece was accompanied by the staccato pop of gunfire.
“I’m glad to hear you’re up and about, Chairman,” Linc replied, “but I’m sorry, they got here first. Two of them drowned, three left. We don’t think they had time to disable the engineering station, though.”
“Can Maria reach it?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on a plan. We wouldn’t mind some help.”
“We’re kind of busy ourselves,” Juan said, “but we’ll keep you posted.”
“Roger that.”
Juan dropped to his belly. His sodden clothes squished against the metal. He was certain one of Dominguez’s men would be circling around in a pincer movement.
There. Feet scurried from the protection of one giant wheel to the next. Juan anticipated the path he was taking and placed the red dot sight on a spot five feet past the wheel.
On cue, the feet appeared. Juan led his target and shot a three-round volley. One of the bullets slammed into a knee and knocked the man to the ground, howling. He saw Juan and tried to get a shot off, but Juan cut him down with another burst.
“We know where you are, Dominguez!” Juan shouted in Spanish. “You can’t stay there forever.”
Dominguez didn’t respond. Instead, a hand grenade bounced against the wall and skittered across the floor until it stuck against the forward chain anchoring the bulldozer to the deck. Juan and Eddie dived behind the dozer’s blade, which rang with the blast.
Juan looked out and saw that the blast had severed the anchor chain. Nothing was holding the front of the forty-ton bulldozer in place except its treads.
“We need to take care of Dominguez and get down to the engine room,” Juan said.
“I saw where he was when he tossed the grenade,” Eddie said. “He’s in the bed of a dump truck. Good sight lines and a stellar defensive position. A head-on attack wouldn’t be the best idea.”
The deck tilted farther and the bulldozer was losing traction. It skidded to starboard with a shriek of metal on metal until it came to rest against the dump truck next to it. Juan held his breath, thinking this might be the start of a vehicle avalanche. The truck’s anchor chains squealed in protest at the added
weight but held.
“That’s not going to last long if the list gets worse,” Eddie said.
“I agree.” Juan radioed Linc again. “I don’t mean to put pressure on you guys, but we’ve got a loose bulldozer up here that is getting ready to take half the cargo with it to the starboard side. If you don’t stop this list in the next few minutes, none of us are making it out of here.”
—
Maria’s heart pounded as the gunfire echoed through the engine room. She had no idea how Linc and MacD stayed so calm.
“We’ve got two men left behind those pipes above the engine,” MacD said, before snapping off another shot.
“The Chairman says the situation up there is critical,” Linc said. “We need to get to the engineering station now. Do you think you can make it?”