ILLOGICAL. THERE ARE NO FAT LADIES ON BOARD. ELABORATE FAT LADY.
Gunnar reaches the open weapons bay, coming face-to-face with the awaiting pincers of two targeting drones. Measuring the distance, he crawls into the chamber on his belly and reaches for the edge of the mangled watertight door.
The ceiling-mounted drones strain, but are unable to reach him.
He grips the panel, the metal still hot to the touch. Backing out carefully, he drags the hunk of steel down the walkway.
The two targeting drones thrash violently, appendages whistling through empty air.
THE HUNT IS OVER, GUNNAR WOLFE. RETURN TO THE WEAPONS BAY IMMEDIATELY AND YOUR LIFE WILL BE SPARED.
The watertight door separating the wing from the main compartment opens and closes faster as he approaches.
“You’re beginning to sound desperate, Sorceress. Desperation is a human trait.” Gunnar regrips the steel panel, takes a deep breath, and squats. Exhaling with a grunt, he lifts the broken steel door away from the walkway and presses it up over his head, his straining arm muscles shaking from the effort.
In one motion he staggers forward and heaves the solid steel panel at the moving barrier.
Sorceress is too fast, slamming the watertight door closed, preventing the mangled metal object from wedging open the exit.
The panel flattens against the walkway, coming to rest between the nowsealed exit and the width of the catwallc, its girth blocking the watertight door from reopening.
Gunnar steps onto it, its warm surface soothing his feet. He quickly fastens the remaining blocks of Semtex to the exit’s critical joints while the computer bashes the hinged door against the immovable barrier.
Gunnar sets the charge and retreats back down the walkway.
I WILL KILL YOU, GUNNAR WOLFE, I WILL KILL YOU …
The blast echoes throughout the ship, tearing the hinged door from the bulkhead.
Gunnar exits through the smoking doorframe and hurries toward the main compartment.
David bolts upright in bed as the lights in his stateroom flash on.
ATTENTION. GUNNAR WOLFE HAS ESCAPED FROM THE STARBOARD WEAPONS BAY.
“Dammit. Where is he?”
MAIN COMPARTMENT, HEADING AFT.
“Alert the Chalabi brothers. Have them get their weapons and meet me in the hangar. Keep Sujan and Kaigbo locked in their quarters.”
ACKNOWLEDGED.
David activates a keypad atop his work desk, unlocking the top drawer. He removes the semiautomatic pistol, then verifies that the gun is loaded.
Gunnar exits the starboard wing’s corridor and peeks around the main passageway of upper deck forward. Deserted. Find Rocky, then get to the hangar …
He heads aft. As he approaches the galley, David steps out into the corridor to confront him, gun drawn.
“That’s far enough. Hands above your head where I can see them.”
Gunnar eyes the weapon, measuring distances. “Are you going to kill me, David?”
David aims the gun and fires.
Gunnar yells in pain as he drops to his knees, clutching his thigh. Blood gushes from a hole in his right quadriceps.
“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”
Gunnar looks up at his former friend. “And Simon? Have you killed him?”
“This isn’t the time for twenty questions. Up you go, back in your state-room.
Gunnar stands, hobbling aft down the corridor, his flesh wound gushing.
They pass Rocky’s stateroom.
WARNING: COMMANDER JACKSON HAS FREED THE HINGES—
The stateroom door flies out from its doorframe and collapses against David’s right shoulder, knocking him off-balance.
Gunnar slaps the gun free, then slams his elbow into David’s face, sending him flying backward against the far wall.
The gun clanks onto the deck. Rocky grabs it, pressing it against David’s forehead. “Time to die, asshole.”
“Rocky, wait!” Gunnar grabs her arm. “We’ll need him to get to the hangar.”
She grits her teeth in frustration, then notices Gunnar’s wound. “Take off your belt and give it to Gunnar.”
David stands. Removes the belt.
Gunnar wraps it around his thigh and tightens it, the pressure slowing the bleeding.
“Now move it, down the corridor.” She presses the gun to the back of his head, forcing him down the passageway.
Gunnar climbs down the ladder to central deck forward, the deck dedicated to the computer’s double-hulled compartment. The solid steel vault door looks impenetrable.
“Gunnar, wait.” Rocky presses the gun to David’s throat. “Open the vault.”
“You’re wasting your time,” says David.
“The only thing I’ll be wasting is a bullet. Now open it.”
“Sorceress, open your computer vault. Authorization Paniagua-two, tango-omega six-seven-six-six-alpha—zulu.”
AUTHORIZATION CODE VERIFIED. VOICE IDENTIFICATION VERIFIED. ACCESS DENIED.
“Told you.” David smirks.
Rocky grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back, pushing the barrel of the gun in his mouth. “I’m sorry, David, I didn’t hear you. Say that again.”
“Rocky, the hangar.” Gunnar wipes blood from his palm, then climbs down the ladder, descending to the lower deck. Limping in pain, he heads aft to the watertight door leading into the hangar bay.
To his surprise, the door yawns open.
Gunnar peers into the gymnasium-size compartment. Mounted to the deck in the center of the hangar are Goliath’s two imposing cranelike limbs.
Situated on skids along the near bulkhead is the minisub prototype. Beneath its carriage, still secured within the Hammerhead’s steel claspers, is the underwater mine.
Rocky pushes David into the hangar. As he stumbles inside, the nearest of the robotic arms lunges at them.
“Back off, Sorceress,” Gunnar orders, “or Commander Jackson will kill him.”
The giant appendage stops advancing, but does not retreat.
YOU WILL NOT BE PERMITTED TO ESCAPE.
A bead of sweat rolls down Gunnar’s face. He knows the computer is measuring distances and reaction time, that the only thing preventing Goliath’s pincers from tearing off his head is Rocky’s index finger on the gun’s trigger, the barrel now pressed firmly against David’s throat.
“Instruct Sorceress to open minisub bay one.” Rocky orders, pushing the weapon deeper into David’s flesh.
“You’ll never make it.”
“Just do it.”
David glances up at the scarlet eyeball mounted high above their heads. “Sorceress, open bay one.”
The rectangular hatch parts in the middle, each section of steel retracting out of sight beneath the decking. Resting on skids within the docking berth below is a sleek, twelve-foot-long, hammerhead-shaped minisub.
“If I die, at least one of you will, too,” David says. “Let me go, and Sorceress will spare your lives.”
“Shut up,” Rocky says. “Gunnar, I can’t drive these things, you have to do this.”
The closest of the two mechanical appendages creeps closer.
“Rocky, if that arm moves any closer, I want you to blow David’s head off.”
“With pleasure.” She pulls the gun’s hammer back with her thumb.
“Sorceress, stay back!” David orders, his bravado suddenly disappearing.
Gunnar descends the ladder into the small docking bay, his pants leg dripping blood. “Sorceress, open the dorsal hatch on Hammerhead-1.”
The dorsal fin assembly pops up, then rotates clockwise with a hiss.