“General?”
“Back on the clock.”
She looked up ahead. “Any idea how much farther? Even with the storm the skies are lightening.”
“I know. And in this weather the trip time is hard to judge.”
A moment later there was a huge bolt of lighting that briefly turned night to day. It was followed by an enormous crack of thunder that seemed to shake the bow rider to its fiberglass core.
“This boat was not built to take a beating like this,” said Carson.
“Neither were people.”
“If we go down we’ll never survive in these seas.”
“Some R and R for you, huh?”
She touched him on the shoulder. “Like I’d have it any other way.”
“Okay, you have my vote for four stars.”
“And so what’s the plan when we get there?” “The plan is we beat the bad guys and rescue the prisoners.”
“That concept I got. I mean how do we do it?” “I don’t think we can tactically battle-plan this one, General. It’s all about conditions when we get there. It’s an oil platform. We get to the base and work our way up. With the head start they had they’re already there. And with the storm like it is they’ll have to move to an enclosed space. I doubt they’ll have perimeter security set up. They wouldn’t expect anyone to hit them tonight. When the storm has passed they’ll head back out, retracing the way they got here, taking all the evidence with them.”
“And then?”
“And then they’ll set up a pipeline somewhere else. These guys are bacteria. They keep mutating to keep one step ahead of the antibiotics.”
“So we’re penicillin?”
“Something a lot stronger, I hope.”
“If they’re higher up in an enclosed space?”
“It gives us a chance. Stealth plus ability plus luck. That combo has equaled victory on more battlefields than you and I can count.”
“Let’s hope we can add one more to the pile.” “Do my best.”
“I know that, Ranger. And if you were wrong and they didn’t come back out here?”
Puller didn’t answer. He was looking up ahead.
“Go sit down, General.”
“What?” She looked up ahead, but couldn’t make out what he could.
“Julie, go sit down. Now! And hold on. Tell the others. Quick.”
Carson scurried to do this.
She had just heard something in Puller’s voice she thought she never would.
Fear.
CHAPTER 85
It was not a giant wave heading at them.
Maybe it would have been better if it were.
It was a boat. No, boats were small.
This was not small. This was a ship. An ocean-going vessel of immense proportions.
A horn sounded from somewhere, deep and penetrating.
Puller did not even bother hitting his horn. It would not have been heard over the sounds of the storm or the engine noise from the approaching vessel.
Puller had an immediate problem. He had to keep taking the approaching waves at roughly a forty-five-degree angle. As even sailors with limited experience knew, hitting waves at that angle cut their power sharply and also lessened the height the water would send a boat to.
Head-on at ninety degrees would ensure that you would receive every ounce of kinetic energy the oncoming liquid hammer could provide.
And you might very well climb a wave only to find yourself capsizing when a vertical point of no return was reached. Once your bow was straight up in the air, you were done. Flipping over backwards was pretty much inevitable. And for the passengers on board, you’d either be crushed by the boat or thrown out into the water to drown.
The problem was that for Puller to veer away from the path of the oncoming ship, he would have to hit the waves nearly directly on. The oncoming vessel was big enough, and with a deep V hull made of steel, it was strong enough to take the waves head-on. In fact, the ship was creating vast banks of rolling seas as it churned through the water at about twelve knots, pushing millions of gallons of already frothing Gulf water ahead and to the sides of it like a shovel does snow.
It was if he could sense something coming.
At the helm Puller eyed the fuel gauge. He had filled the tank before they had left from cans that Diaz had had on board. But the pounding waters had caused the engine to suck a lot more fuel than normal to keep its forward progress.
Puller performed a quick calculation in his head.
The answer was unmistakable. And deeply disturbing.
We're not going to have enough gas to get back.