After sliding through, he closed the door and placed the back of his hand against it. It burned, and he yanked his hand back.
Renard had promised that the Taiwanese power source would keep the door hot for fifteen minutes, and he left it to its purpose as he hurried around the corner. Sprinting up ladders and jogging through passageways, he reached the electronics cabinet behind the bridge, his chest heaving but controlled due to Gray’s jogging regimen.
He reached into his trousers and lifted his phone toward his face. The custom Taiwanese-developed application opened, and he tapped in a temperature value he wanted displayed on the Dragon’s systems — five hundred degrees Fahrenheit. Then he tapped in another reading, followed by three more.
After transmitting the data, he awaited confirmation of his false readings’ acceptance by his sabotaged electronic connection. A simple green icon on the phone sufficed.
Through the steel door, he heard a klaxon blare and fill the bridge with its fury. Then silence ensued, followed by a panicked voice on the ship’s loudspeaker.
“High temperature — vertical launch system chamber! High temperature — vertical launch system chamber!”
Gray counted to thirty to pretend that he had covered the distance from his stateroom. Then he barged through the door.
“What the devil is going on?”
“Fire, sir! Maybe, I mean. We don’t know. There’s a high-temperature alarm in the vertical launch compartment.”
“What are you doubting?”
“We don’t see any smoke.”
“What smoke do you expect from a sealed compartment? That’s a fire, and it means that we need to get underway under emergency conditions.”
“Shouldn’t we wait until the damage control team investigates the compartment?”
“No! Assume it’s a fire.”
Gray stepped forward and grabbed a handset.
“This is the executive officer. There’s a fire in the vertical launch system. Probable solid fuel combustion incident. Damage control team, assemble by the compartment, but do not enter. I repeat, do not enter.”
He looked to the sailor.
“Which tube is it, or are there multiple tubes?”
“Tube seventeen, sir. Its temperature reading is off the scale. Its neighboring tubes are abnormally high but still safe. The compartment temperature is also high enough to indicate a fire.”
“It sounds like seventeen is undergoing a slow burn and has breached its containment. We need to get to sea.”
“Half the men are ashore, sir. Only the duty section is aboard.”
“Eighty percent of the men are ashore since we just pulled in to port today, and half of them are drunk. There’s no time to get anyone back, and I want an evacuation anyway. All but essential personnel for damage control and propulsion.”
“Sir?”
“If this compartment blows, God knows what could happen with all that fuel and ordnance. I don’t want to risk civilian lives or the lives of sailors unnecessarily.”
“What do you want us to do, sir?”
Gray looked to the closer sailor.
“You make contact with the damage control team as they assemble. Let them approach and sense the compartment door for heat, but remind them not to enter. I don’t want them fanning any flames.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
He looked to the second sailor.
“You make contact with shore authorities. Inform them that we have a fire in the vertical launch system compartment and are heading to sea in an emergency deployment. We are leaving as soon we can get underway.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
Gray lifted the handset to his lips again and flipped a switch to isolate his voice to his engineering spaces.
“Engineering, Bridge, communications check. Over.”
The retort crackled through loudspeakers.
“Bridge, Engineering, communications check is satisfactory. Awaiting your orders, sir.”
“Engineering, Bridge, conduct an emergency startup of the propulsion plant. Be ready to get underway as soon as possible.”
He flipped a switch to send his voice throughout the ship.
“Attention crew of the Dragon. This is the executive officer and the senior officer aboard. The captain is ashore with the majority of the crew. The fire in the vertical launch system compartment is a danger to the harbor. I intend to get underway in five minutes. All nonessential personnel are ordered to evacuate the ship. I repeat, all but the primary damage control party and propulsion team are ordered ashore immediately. Cast off all lines. Disconnect all shore power, fuel, water, and sewage connections. Leave the brows. They will pop off as I drive the ship away.”
The first sailor on the bridge lowered a sound-powered phone.
“Shore authorities acknowledge our distress situation. They are asking if we need assistance.”
“Tell them to make ready helicopters to rescue our crew as we take the ship to sea.”
The second sailor chimed in.
“The damage control team is at the compartment door. They report that the door is hot to the touch. They are spraying the door with water to cool it for entry. They are awaiting your orders.”
“Get them out of there. Send them ashore. There’s nothing more they can do.”
Two minutes passed, and Gray received reports that the Dragon had been freed from its moorings. He addressed both sailors remaining with him on the bridge.
“You two, get out of here. If you can’t make it off the ship before I get underway, I recommend that you jump.”
As the men left him alone, a voice rang from loudspeakers.
“Bridge, Engineering, ready to get underway.”
He raised his handset.
“Engineering, Bridge, make turns for three knots.”
With imperceptible grace and power, the destroyer slid forward. Gray moved to the control console and tapped a screen that commanded a servo-hydraulic system near the ship’s stern to move the rudder, and he watched the bow glide from the pier.
Taps against a screen invoked a nautical chart, and Gray observed a dot moving within the overhead graphical rendition of Port Stanley. Technology allowed him to drive the graceful vessel with a fraction of his brain.
Rotating the rudder again angled the Dragon into a wide channel, yielding room to maneuver. He intended to violate the safe local speed limits and trust that he could guide the warship past the shoals to open water.
“Engineering, Bridge, all ahead two-thirds,” he said.
“Bridge, Engineering, answering all ahead two-thirds.”
Shimmering moonlit water hastened by the Dragon’s flanks.
“Engineering, Bridge, I need more speed,” he said.
“Bridge, Engineering. I need about two more minutes to bring up the second gas turbine. I can give you ahead standard now.”
“All ahead standard.”
The shimmering water accelerated, and the deck began rhythmic bobbing. Random chatter from shore authorities filled the bridge, asking for statuses and offering help that Gray ignored.
“Bridge, Engineering, ready to answer all bells.”
“Engineering, Bridge, all ahead flank.”
The Dragon’s prow spat glimmering spray skyward, and the pitched heaving made Gray balance himself on a console.
“Bridge, Engineering, what’s going on up there?”
Since he wasn’t giving an order, Gray let protocol slide.
“Listen, lieutenant. I can’t tell you when or if the vertical launch cells are going to blow, but if and when they do, there’s enough fuel in those missiles to slice this ship in half. I don’t want anyone else on this ship except myself when that happens. There’s no reason for you or anyone else to remain aboard.”