This time, a hint of merriment touched the dour captain’s eyes. “Of course it isn’t. We can wait right here until the appointed hour.”
Bowing slightly in the face of such obstinacy, Liu made a gesture for Wong to lead the way. They waited in silence for a steward to bring the service and pour the tea. Liu felt the double pressure of Wong’s stubbornness, which bordered on insubordination, and the dissecting glances that Mr. Sun shot his way, as if he knew something was amiss. Only Sergeant Huai, a veteran of countless battles and a master of patiently waiting between them, seemed immune to the tension. He drank the tea and kept his eyes from meeting anyone else’s without seeming obsequious or arrogant.
Liu’s cell phone cried from inside his coat pocket. Rather than draw even more attention by excusing himself, he took the call and made sure his responses were guarded. “Liu Yousheng.”
“Sir, it’s Cheng.”
“Yes, of course. How may I help you?”
“Sir, the pilot boat was destroyed. I think by rockets from Gemini Two, but I can’t be sure. Now the ship is turning back for the lock. I think they mean to go back down.”
“Well, that is interesting news,” Liu replied mildly while his stomach erupted so fiercely that acid seared the base of his tongue. He fought not to wince and covered the pain by shifting in his seat. “Anything else?”
Either Cheng caught on to the fact Liu couldn’t speak openly or was too frightened to notice. He continued his report despite his superior’s easy tone. “The ship is about to reenter the lock. The bottom gates are closed so maybe they mean to ram it.”
“Let them try.” Liu’s laugh was genuine, for he knew nothing short of a battleship at full speed could break through the two sets of massive gates.
“Sir!” Cheng shouted. “More explosions! It’s not coming from the Englander Rose. We’re under attack. Artillery of some kind. They’re targeting the doors.” There was a pause. Liu could hear detonations over the crackling cellular connection. “They’re gone. The doors are gone. The ship just raced by me going so fast I couldn’t see who was on the bridge. They’re on Miraflores Lake.”
Liu stood. He could no longer keep up a façade in front of Captain Wong. He nodded to the men and stepped from the cabin, moving far enough down the hallway so he couldn’t be overheard. His voice became an angry hiss. “What are you saying?”
“A barrage of some kind blew apart the lower lock doors. Water is pouring through and the Englander Rose went with it. It just passed a freighter on Miraflores and looks like it’s heading for the next set of locks.”
“Listen to me very carefully. That ship must not get off the lake. If you can stop it and get aboard I’ve got the code that will let you reset the timer on the explosives. We can still get the ship to the cut and finish what we started.”
“Yes, sir. I have a force at the Miraflores Locks and I can get the rest of my men down there before the ship reaches it. We’ll stop them.”
“Make sure you do, Cheng.” Liu put his phone away and stood looking at his feet, his face creased in thought. The dice were still rolling and a chance remained to effect their outcome.
A voice from behind snapped him from his reverie, a voice that wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near Panama, let alone on the Korvald.
“It seems you’re having a problem.” General Yu stood near the first officer’s cabin, where he’d been listening. There was a smirk on his pug face, delighting in seeing the younger executive about to have his world torn away from him. “It appears that we gambled and you lost.”
Mercer dove into the bridge. “Incoming!” he shouted again.
The rocket, a Chinese version of the Russian man-portable RPG-7, was primarily an antitank weapon with a five-pound shaped warhead capable of penetrating up to a foot of armor. Although their accuracy beyond three hundred yards was poor, and only a lucky hit could possibly disable a ship the size of the Englander Rose, everyone knew the wheelhouse was the missile’s target and a hit would turn it into flaming ruins.
They had all been under fire before, Harry during World War II and the others much more recently, and all knew to keep their mouths open to protect their inner ears from the overpressure of an explosion. Foch radioed a warning to his men in the hold and ducked behind the sturdy console to await the hit.
The rocket-propelled grenade flew unerringly at the vessel, a smoking slash of light that cut across the distance in seconds. The shaped warhead hit in the juncture where the superstructure met the deck and blew a cone of fire deep into the ship, shredding bulkheads and deck plates and leaving a four-foot smoking crater. The bridge rumbled and a gust of hot smoke blew through the aft doorway. For a fraction of a second, the crew waited for the secondary explosion, for surely such a strike could detonate the tons of explosives in her hold.
But then logic took over as they realized that they would never feel such a massive blast.
Mercer’s ears rang and his voice sounded unnaturally loud when he called, “Everyone okay?”
“We’re fine this time,” Rene said and ordered the Legionnaires to determine the extent of the damage and battle any fires the explosion might have ignited.
“Harry?”
“I’m good.” The old man got to his feet and immediately checked the ship’s gauges, grunting his relief that everything appeared in order.
Mercer’s earpiece crackled. “Angel Two, this is Heaven. Sit rep?”
“We’re still here.”
“We can target the seawalls with a strike before blowing the gates. The drone reports concentrations of troops along both sides of the lock you’ll be going through.”
“Hold on, Heaven.” Mercer went back outside and studied the barrier through his binoculars. Amid the uniformed troops, he saw dozens of workers being used as human shields by the Chinese. It seemed every soldier had at least two workers with him, men held by fright, not loyalty. Mercer couldn’t order their deaths. “Negative, Heaven. There are too many civilians out there. Lay a barrage along the wall to keep the rocket launchers pinned, but don’t hit the structure. Do you copy?”
“Roger. Retargeting now.”
The seawall dividing the two sets of locks was much longer than the one at Pedro Miguel, extending past the topmost lock by several thousand feet. Mercer tried to remain calm as he watched a team of soldiers at its tip readying another RPG. The range was sufficiently close to guarantee a hit on the Rose’s bridge. Through the powerful binoculars he could see the brightness in the gunner’s eyes as he swung the tubelike weapon to his shoulder.
Mercer was about to shout another warning when the water just feet off the concrete wall exploded in what looked like a precisely timed series of charges. The VGAS cannon walked its shots from the end of the seawall all the way to the lock. Each round exploded an exact distance from its predecessor in a string of geysers like some sort of overwhelming fountain effect. Men dove for cover, fearing the next string would tear up the cement. Some leapt into the opposite lock, others cowered behind the mule engines and others just froze as they were showered with water.
“Okay,” Harry called from the wheel. “It’s time to blow the doors.”
The upper lock chamber was already flooded and its gates were open to the Rose while a ship was just being drawn into the lower one by the mules, although it appeared work had stopped.
“Heaven, Angel Two. It’s open-sesame time.”
“Could you repeat that, please?”