Juan had never viewed the new and improved Oregon from a distance because she had been boxed up in a covered dry dock during construction. He’d been waiting a long time for this moment, and he swelled with pride now that he could take her in from bow to stern.
The 590-foot-long break bulk ship, designed to carry any kind of cargo in containers, boxes, crates, or barrels, was equipped with four cranes on the deck. Each of the two pairs of cranes had their booms turned toward the opposite tower and secured together to form the crossbar of an H. The Kashtan gun was situated on top of the forward crane’s tower. A sleeve rose back up to conceal it. No one seeing the ship would ever know that the Gatling gun was one of the many surprises hidden behind the ordinary-looking façade.
An object the size of a dishwasher took off from her deck amidships. It shot into the air and flew toward the Dahar. It was the Oregon’s cargo air drone, an octocopter that could lift up to one hundred pounds with its retractable claw.
Juan wrested his eyes away from the ship and headed back to the bridge.
“Status, Hali,” Juan said.
“Gomez has the CAD on the way. All three bombs are ready for pickup. One minute left on the timers.”
Juan reached the bridge at the same time the CAD swooped over the Dahar. The drone came to a stop over the bow, and Juan watched as it descended until Linda could latch her duffel onto the vehicle’s claw.
As soon as it was secure, the octocopter leaped into the air and flew to Hali’s position.
The drone hovered over Hali just a few yards from Juan, its blades wailing like banshees. Hali hooked up his duffel to the claw and backed away.
“Go, go, go,” Hali yelled.
“I’m out of there,” Gomez answered.
The CAD shot into the sky and out over the water away from both the Oregon and the Dahar.
Juan watched it fly toward the horizon and silently counted down
in his head. Finally, Gomez said, “A thousand yards out.”
“That’s good enough,” Juan said. “Get rid of them.”
“Bombs away.”
A speck dropped from the CAD, which sped off. As the package hit the sea, a bright flash erupted, throwing a huge geyser of water into the air. Three seconds later came a thunderclap that rattled the ship.
Juan had lost sight of the drone. “Did the CAD escape the blast?” he asked.
“All systems functioning perfectly,” Gomez said. “Flying back as we speak.”
Juan breathed a sigh of relief. After losing so much in South America during their last operation, he was glad to get out of this mission without casualties or destroyed equipment.
He went out onto the bridge wing and looked down to the Gator. Hali was already climbing back inside. Juan turned toward the bow and waved at Linda and Eric seven hundred feet away.
“Linda, are your hostiles secure?”
“They won’t be going anywhere until someone unties them,” Linda replied. “And we’ve retrieved the darts.”
“Good. Then you and Eric get back to the Gator.”
“On our way.”
Juan wished he could collect all the terrorists in one place, but dragging them around a ship this size while sedated would be a chore, especially with the Malaysian Maritime Enforcement Agency forces arriving by helicopter in the next thirty minutes. Besides, they had to erase all the video from the closed-circuit cameras before they left. Newer ships like this one had them all over the place.
“Tick-tock,” Max said. “I don’t want to answer awkward questions about what we’re doing here in black clothes looking like the bad guys.”
“You make a fine point,” Juan said as he went back into the bridge to wipe any video recordings of their visit. “But we can’t leave the crew locked up. On my way out, I’ll pass by the mess and set a cutter on the locking mechanism. We’ll activate it when we leave. Nice work, everybody. When we get back to the Oregon, margaritas are on me.”
That brought a round of cheers.
“Let’s keep the carousing to a minimum,” Max said. “We have to be in Bali in two days, and we’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow to get ready for the operation.”