“I think I understand,” Mercer replied. “It’s putting all your eggs in one basket. If that’s the case, let’s hope Roddy stopped the Mario from blocking the canal so we can sail this bitch into Lake Gatun where she can blow up without hurting anything.”
“Do you have another option if somehow Monsieur Herrara doesn’t succeed?”
Mercer closed his eyes, blocking the mental picture of what would have to be done in the event they couldn’t get the bomb ship to an isolated spot on the upper lake. “Oh, I got a plan all right,” he said without much enthusiasm. “Actually, the comm officer on the McCampbell thought it up.”
“Yes?”
“If we can’t go forward, then we’ll just have to take the Rose back through the Pedro Miguel Lock.”
Lieutenant Foch stared at him. “How? The Chinese guards will never open the gates for us.”
“No, but the United States Navy will.”
They entered the bridge just as Roddy made his call to announce the Mario diCastorelli had been grounded. Lauren handed Mercer the radio.
That was it, then, Mercer thought as he listened to Captain Patke’s report about the Robert T. Change being evacuated. They had no choice. He told them about the timing sequence and called for everyone on the radio link to switch over so they could hear him speaking to the USS McCampbell . “Heaven, Heaven, this is Angel, ah, Two.”
“Go ahead, Angel. We’ve been monitoring, and know your current situation.”
“Then you know what you have to do?”
“Roger that. Information from the spotter aircraft has already been fed into the targeting computers. We’re awaiting your order to go. Be advised that there will be no shots for ranging. All rounds are fired for effect.”
Mercer took that to mean that the first rocket-assisted rounds out of the six-inch semiautomatic VGAS cannon would land exactly where the computers said they would. “Roger that, Heaven. Please stand by.” He looked around the bridge.
Rabidoux had gone below to help Munz, while Bruneseau was still finishing up their security sweep with the remaining Legionnaire.
Harry was at the ship’s wheel. Being at the helm of the ship seemed to have shaved at least twenty years off his age. He stood more erect, his mouth’s usual scowl replaced by a determined smirk that bordered on cocky. His eyes were clearer than Mercer had ever seen them. Lauren sat on a tall swivel stool next to him, her gaze fixed on Mercer. Foch was behind her and it seemed all three were waiting for his orders.
As the Legion team leader, Foch had taken the point when it came to assaulting the ship. Combat was his profession, and he was very good at what he did, but now he, like the others, looked to Mercer to make the final decision. He’d been the man who’d held them all together from the first contact with Hatcherly Consolidated at the River of Ruin. It didn’t matter to Foch, or to Lauren for that matter, that he wasn’t a soldier. He was a leader, blessed or cursed with the ability to inspire others to push beyond their limitations and perform the impossible.
Mercer felt he could no longer take up that mantle. In light of his feelings about what the torturer, Sun, had done to him, he didn’t feel it was right for him to take the lead. He doubted himself, felt tentative despite the calm front he put up. He wanted nothing more than to turn the responsibility over to someone else.
He searched deep inside himself for that well of determination that had always sustained him. He found it. It was empty. He’d taken the team as far as he could. To hell with the canal, he thought. They’d accomplished enough to prevent Liu from stationing nuclear weapons in Panama. An investigation into the explosions would reveal that this was an overt act. The United States would be within their treaty rights to land a sizable force to protect what remained.
The smart thing to do was to evacuate the Englander Rose and let her blow where she was. There would be no avoiding the destruction of the Pedro Miguel Lock, but it could be rebuilt in a few years.
What is the right thing? Mercer asked himself. Risk a handful of people to save what was really just an old machine? Don’t forget the workers who run the lock, a little voice said, innocent men and women who have nothing to do with Hatcherly Consolidated or Liu Yousheng. They would surely die when the Rose exploded. Did he owe them something?
If they died, Mercer knew that Mr. Sun would have won his battle in the torture chamber. He would have taken enough of Mercer’s will so that he no longer cared. And that was the line he would not cross. He couldn’t live with himself knowing he’d surrendered so thoroughly. Acknowledging the emotional consequences of running away made the choice to stay undeniable.
The well of determination was still empty, but that didn’t matter in the face of logic. He would go on, if not for himself, then at least to deny Sun his victory.
“Okay,” Mercer said at last, “Munz and Rabidoux have to stay aboard to try to stop this ship from blowing up. Harry needs to be here because he’s the only one who can conn her. Harry, turn us around.” Harry worked the wheel and bumped the throttles, mindful that the ship was barely two hundred feet shorter than the canal was wide. “Lieutenant Foch, recall Rene and your other man then meet them at the lifeboat station. I can’t give you time to launch it, but there should be life rings nearby. Lauren, I want you to go with them.”
Her anger came swift and hot. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Saving your lives. You don’t need to take this ride with us, and the more you protest the more I know you’re trying to play macho with me. Don’t. Get your ass off this ship and get as far from the canal as you can.”
“Philip Mercer, I should tell you where you can shove your idea and how far up there it should go.” Her eyes blazed like mismatched jewels.
“First day as captain and your crew’s already in mutiny,” Harry cackled at Mercer without taking his eyes off the water.
“I won’t speak for the French,” Lauren continued, “but my ass is staying right here. We’ve been through hell together and I’m going to see it through to the end.”
“Lauren, please—”
“Forget it. I’m staying.”
Foch had moved out of the argument, closer to the wing bridge so he could warn Harry if they got close to the shore. “It is a good thing, too.” He pulled his FAMAS off his shoulder in a sweeping arc. “We have company.” He moved farther out of the wheelhouse, clicking his radio to call Rene and the fourth soldier.
“What is it?” In their rush to reach the bridge door, Mercer and Lauren brushed against each other and didn’t break that slight contact until they hit the railing.
A pilot boat like the one they’d stolen had pulled from the marina. Its deck was loaded with Chinese soldiers, one of whom had set up a heavy machine gun on an improvised swivel mount. Whatever warning the captain of the Englander Rose had gotten out had been picked up by the shore-based guards, or perhaps they were suspicious about the ship beginning to turn in the narrow stretch of water just above the Pedro Miguel Lock.
“Oh, shit.”
The machine gunner down on the utility boat knew he was in range of the cluster of people on the exposed wing bridge the instant he saw them. The gun began to bark, a rapid choking sound that boomed louder than any thunder.
All three dropped flat as .30-caliber rounds chewed into the ship, blowing apart windows and ricocheting off steel as they sought to penetrate flesh. The five-second burst left the bridge reeking of scorched metal.