Final Option (Oregon Files 14)

There was one advantage to the Portland withdrawing behind the island. Juan could no longer feel the sonic disruptor’s effect ricocheting through his brain.

Murph’s jury-rigged version of the same weapon tied to the Oregon’s sonar, however, was ready to deploy.

“Murph,” Juan said. “See if you can disrupt the passive sonars on those torpedoes.”

“Activating it now.”

The sonar dome was now blasting out a signal that should cause the torpedoes’ sensors to malfunction. Theoretically.

“Stoney, move us out of the direct path the torpedoes would have been taking.”

Eric took a deep breath and said, “Not much room to maneuver in here, but I’ll see what I can do.”

He eased the Oregon over toward the closest island as near to it as he dared. The Portland’s torpedoes ran too deep to spot them visually, so the only way to know they’d missed would be by seeing them explode. Hopefully, far away.

A geyser erupted by the shore opposite to them. Murph’s disruptor had worked, causing the weapon to swerve off course.

But it didn’t work the same way on the second torpedo. It must have swung in the other direction because it exploded off the Oregon’s port bow, rocking the ship from water hammer effect. Juan had to grip his chair to keep from falling out.

Alarms went off, indicating a hull breach.

“Closing watertight doors in sections three, five, and seven,” Max called out as calmly as he could. “I’ve lost engine power in the port venturi tube, and maneuvering thrusters have been damaged. Flooding starboard ballast tanks to compensate for the portside flooding.”

With the Oregon severely wounded, they couldn’t wait any longer to give the Deepwater more of a head start. Juan had to get the Oregon out of there before the Portland could take another shot at them. But if they simply made a dash into the fog, the Portland would run them down before the Oregon could lose her.

What Juan wouldn’t give for some kind of roadblock . . .

His eyes snapped to the mid-channel island separating them from the Portland. It was only a matter of time before she came back around the island, and she had to take the port side because the starboard side was far too cramped for her to squeeze through.

But it was the remnants of the avalanche that caught Juan’s attention. He looked at the glacier flowing into the narrowest part of the channel. The ice came right down to the water’s edge.

“Murph,” he said. “I want you to fire two more torpedoes. But the target isn’t the Portland. I want you to hit that glacier dead center. Run them as shallow as possible.”

Murph followed Juan’s gaze and nodded when he understood what Juan was going for.

He tapped new coordinates into the computer and said, “Torpedoes away.”

As the Portland began to emerge from behind the island, the torpedoes sped toward the glacier, the propellers leaving bubbles churning behind in their wake just below the surface.

Fifteen seconds later, they blew up right beneath the part of the glacier that overhung the channel, causing massive chunks of ice to collapse into the water. The explosions set off a chain reaction that cleaved huge bergs off the glacier, blocking the path that the Portland would have to take. Even with her armored hull, ramming them could tear sizable holes in the ship.

Juan had to hope Tate wouldn’t take that chance. He would back out of the channel and go around the island to try to cut Juan off. By that time, Juan was betting he could disappear into the vast labyrinth of channels and fjords withi

n the National Reserve.

“Stoney, get us out of here.”

Eric rotated the Oregon and steered her back in the direction she had come. Before the Portland could fully reappear from behind the island, the Oregon limped away into the fogbank.

57

Tate knew he had badly damaged the Oregon, and now he just needed to finish her off. But with the icebergs that Cabrillo threw in his path, he had to dash around the island by a different route to catch him. The longer course, coupled with the dense fog, meant that when he arrived at the other end of the channel, the Oregon and the Deepwater were gone.

He was now poring over a map of the area in the op center with Ballard, trying to plan their next move.

“Maybe we should wait for the Oregon or the Deepwater to come out of the Reserve,” Ballard suggested. “If they’re as damaged as you think they are, we could easily destroy them in the open ocean.”

“I don’t think, I know. You saw how the Oregon was listing right before it vanished in the fog. At least one of the torpedoes hit.”