"There's something in the water," the pilot said over the intercom. "Dead ahead."
Thorpe looked closer and saw the two Zodiacs. "Let's get them!"
McKenzie heard the chopper. He turned and looked back the way they had come, then spun about and looked downstream. Within sight, the river opened into the lake. Two miles across the smooth surface of the lake he could see the dike blocking the main channel.
"Faster!" McKenzie yelled.
Drake had abandoned the computer and had his hand on the outboard engine throttle. He opened up the throttle all the way. The lead Zodiac was now half flying across the water but the pod was slowing them too much. Johnson held his submachine gun at the ready to fire if the chopper got closer.
McKenzie took the rope that was tied to the pod inside the second Zodiac and pulled on it, slowly bringing the second Zodiac closer until its prow was just behind the engine of his boat.
"Stop!" McKenzie yelled.
Drake cut the throttle and the two boats coasted to a stop. "Give me a hand," McKenzie ordered, stepping over the gunwale and into the second Zodiac.
"What are you doing?" Drake asked in alarm as McKenzie cut the ropes holding it in place and put his shoulder to the pod.
"Do as I tell you!" McKenzie shoved, and with Drake's assistance, the pod rolled over into the water where it bobbed on the end of its line. McKenzie reached back into the first boat and grabbed Tommy with his artificial arm and lifted him over into the second boat as he yelled and pounded futilely on McKenzie's arm.
"Shut up," McKenzie yelled at the boy as he quickly looped the rope binding Tommy's hands through the safety rope that ran along the top of the front pontoon. McKenzie quickly tied off several square knots.
The Blackhawk was now less than twenty feet above the water. Inside, Thorpe manned the left M-60 while Dublowski manned the right one. They were less than a mile away from the two stopped Zodiacs and the lake.
"What are they doing?" Dublowski asked.
"I don't know," Thorpe's finger was itching on the trigger of the machine gun as he saw movement in the boats. He would have started firing already if Tommy wasn't out there.
McKenzie pushed down the outboard motor that had been canted up in the second Zodiac. He pulled the starter cord and it roared into life.
"Say hi to your dad for me," he said to Tommy as he twisted the throttle and locked it full open. His mechanical hand squeezed down on the metal, crushing it in place. As the Zodiac accelerated, McKenzie jumped into the boat with Drake in it. Tommy's Zodiac built up speed, rushing straight across the lake toward the dike two miles away.
"Let's go!" McKenzie yelled at Drake.
"What the fuck!" Dublowski exclaimed as they watched the two Zodiacs part, one heading across the lake, the other turning to the right and driving toward the swamp on that side. They could see Tommy tied off in the first one and the men in the second.
"Which one do we go after?" the pilot asked in Thorpe's headset.
Thorpe looked from one to the other, then looked back in at Dublowski across the cargo bay. The older NCO said nothing and Thorpe knew he would back whatever decision he made one hundred percent.
"The one with my son," Thorpe ordered.
The Blackhawk swooped down to less than ten feet above the surface of the lake in pursuit.
McKenzie smiled as he watched the Blackhawk go after the other boat. The beginning of the swamp and concealment beckoned less than a quarter mile ahead.
Inside his boat, Tommy was ripping at the ropes with his fingers, slowly undoing the knots that McKenzie had tied. He could feel the rush of wind across his face. Water spray from the Zodiac bouncing across the surface of the lake splashed up, blinding him when he tried to look forward.
Tommy looked over his shoulder as he heard the sound of a helicopter. His heart rose as he saw his dad leaning out the side, held in by a harness. He was waving at him, less than two hundred feet away.
"Lower," Thorpe ordered.
The pilot had them down to less than ten feet above the surface of the water and he edged down a couple more feet. Thorpe looked past the boat they were rapidly gaining on and saw the dirt wall of the dike four hundred yards in front of Tommy.
"Put me right over the boat!"
The pilot did as he was told but another hundred yards went by before Thorpe could look down on Tommy, hair blown about by the rotor downwash. Thorpe met his son's eyes and could see the fear in them. Thorpe gave a thumbs-up, then unsnapped the strap across his chest.
He fell the ten feet, the forward speed of the chopper giving him enough velocity to match the boat. Still, he hit the left rear pontoon and had to desperately grab at the safety line to keep from sliding off.
"Dad!"
"I'll be there, Tommy," Thorpe said as he scrambled into the boat. He looked past his son at the rapidly approaching dike, now less than two hundred yards away. The chopper was following them, less than forty feet behind. Turning to the motor, Thorpe twisted on the throttle but it didn't move.
"Damn," Thorpe cursed as he saw that the metal had been crushed in place at full open. He drew his knife and moved up next to Tommy, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. "I've got you."
"Stop the boat, Dad," Tommy said.
"I can't," Thorpe replied as he sliced through the rope holding his son. The dike was now a hundred yards away. Thorpe knew he had less than ten seconds.
"We're going to have to jump overboard," Thorpe said.
"I can't, Dad. We're going too fast."
"Trust me, Tommy " Thorpe held him, poised on the edge of the pontoon. "We'll be all right. I'll make sure you don't get hurt."
Tommy looked at him and nodded, his chin trembling. "All right, Dad."
"Let's go," Thorpe said. He rolled over the side with Tommy in his arms. His back hit the water and the position cushioned his son from the impact. They went under and Thorpe kicked, pushing them to the surface. He cradled Tommy as he coughed and spit out water.
"We made it!" Tommy cried out, gripping him tight around the shoulders.
"Yeah, son, we made it," Thorpe said as he watched the zodiac smash into the dike and crumple, the weight of the engine flipping the boat end over end, smashing it into the earth.
The Blackhawk came to a hover over their heads and Dublowski lowered a line off a winch.
Colonel Hurst was reading a computer screen. "Our Patriot missile batteries near Tel Aviv are responding. Defensive launches are going up now."
Lowcraft was shaking his head. "Just great. Our own missiles are defending against a Trident launched from one of our own subs. And we don't even have any Patriots here to protect Washington."
"What are the chances the Patriots will take out the Trident?" Hill asked. He was under guard by the MPs, but still a spectator to the two red lines on the screen.
"Zero to none," Lowcraft said, "but the Patriot battery was a great political placebo you gave the Israelis." He pointed at Hurst. "Get me the commander of that Patriot unit," General Lowcraft ordered.
Parker was wondering if what was left of the forty feet of reinforced concrete and large spring suspenders would work as they were advertised. The clock turned to 9:45, then 9:44. She knew that Tel Aviv would last only two minutes longer than her location, with Washington following four minutes after that.
The program was complicated. She'd known Kilten was a genius but this was almost beyond her. The key word was almost. She had the added spur of her — and millions of others'—very survival. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, her mind working furiously to unravel Kilten's puzzle.