“That one took out the bridge,” Hali said.

“Aim the laser at their bridge,” Linda said. “It might buy us some time.”

“Firing.”

They couldn’t see what effect the laser was having, but the firing of the plasma cannon stopped for a moment.

“Squall,” Murph said.

“What?” Sylvia asked.

“Aim for the squall.” He was looking at the screen.

She followed his gaze and saw what he meant. The dark clouds were only a few hundred yards away directly ahead of the Oregon, and a curtain of rain was gushing from the sky.

She turned to Linda and pointed at the screen. “The plasma cannon is a fair-weather weapon. If we can get into those heavy showers, they will attenuate its effectiveness.”

Another ball of plasma shot by, scorching a line along the Oregon’s deck.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Linda said. “Brace yourself.”

Sylvia gripped the nearby control panel just in time to keep herself from falling. The Oregon surged forward and raced for shelter before they were all blown apart.

FORTY-FIVE

At the same time that the call came in from Raven that a croc was coming their way, Linc found the last remaining amphora containing the nuts they were looking for. He brought it over and handed it to Juan. The mark on the wax seal was worn down, but it clearly said “N V L.”

“Let’s get back to Nomad,” Juan said, cradling the ceramic container in his hands as he grabbed on to Little Geek for the short ride back.

Halfway to the sub, its cylindrical form came into focus in the sonar image displayed on the inside of his glasses. Then another more ominous figure appeared beside it.

The shape resolved quickly into the body of a huge crocodile, its powerful tail swinging back and forth behind it.

He and Linc weren’t going to make it back to the airlock in time. Juan drew his Wasp injection knife, ready to stab the croc as it raced toward them.

It opened its jaws wide but seemed to aim right between them. To Juan’s surprise, the croc clamped down on Little Geek, and he realized that its sonar signal must have attracted the animal.

The croc quickly realized its mistake and let go of the inedible meal. But it now sensed a more tasty alternative nearby.

It lunged for Juan, who twisted out of the way, just missing the snapping teeth. Unfortunately, the motion brought the amphora he was holding into its path.

The croc’s jaws crushed the heavy ceramic like it was made of fine crystal, shattering the container. Juan could make out a swirl of objects that scattered into the water along with the pottery shards. He reached out and snagged one. The rest were lost in the swirl of water.

The croc, still unhappy about not finding a meal, lunged for Juan, who jabbed his prosthetic leg into the reptile’s massive maw. The croc’s jaws snapped shut, and it began shaking its head viciously, tossing him around like a rag doll in an attempt to drown its prey.

Linc appeared out of the murk with his own knife and thrust it into the croc’s head. But with the animal twisting so quickly, the blade glanced off, its load of deadly compressed air wasted as bubbles in the water. The knife itself was knocked out of his hand and went spinning into the gloom.

The croc wasn’t deterred and kept its death grip on Juan’s leg. In another situation, Juan would be wearing his combat leg, which—along with its hidden compartment holding a .45 ACP Colt Defender, ceramic knife, and C-4 packet—contained a shotgun slug that could be fired from the heel. But for the dive, he had on his normal, unarmed artificial leg.

Linc grabbed the croc’s skull in a bear hug to keep it from opening its jaws to take another bite. Juan remembered what Parsons had said about how easy it was to keep a croc’s mouth closed. Linc must have known that fact, too, and continued to ride him like a bucking bronco.

Still holding his own knife, Juan contorted himself so that he could reach the croc’s upper jaw. He timed his strike to match the angle of the crocodile’s next head twist and slammed the Wasp between its teeth.

The Wasp’s blade didn’t sink far into its soft palate, but it went deep enough. Juan pressed the button on the hilt, and air blasted out of the hole in the steel into the croc’s lower jaw. At the same moment, Linc’s grip gave out. He was flung out of sight.

The croc released its hold on the prosthesis, taking the knife and Juan’s flipper with it. The wound didn’t seem fatal, but blood spewed into the water. The crocodile must have had enough of his prey fighting back because it turned to swim away.

However, as it did so, its massive tail swung around, catching Juan’s buoyancy vest and air hose. The sharp edge of its hide tore through both, filling Juan’s mask with water and evacuating the air from his vest.

Tags: Clive Cussler Oregon Files Thriller
Source: readsnovelonline.net