Shadow Tyrants

  After a few moments, the air pressure in the cargo bay equalized with the outside atmosphere. Juan dropped to the floor. Taylor was on her hands and knees as she was buffeted by the wind curling in through the open cargo door. The body of the dead guard was swept across the floor and out into the gaping abyss.

  Juan looked back and saw Eddie was still in the elevator cab, wedged against the lip of the door. Air roared through from the main cabin above, then died down quickly.

  Juan knew Taylor’s intention. The decompression. The portable oxygen tank. At this altitude without emergency oxygen masks, he and Eddie had about sixty seconds before they passed out from the thin air. Then, Taylor could take her time killing them.

  She was shielded behind the Bugatti and biding her time until they were unconscious. There was only one way out of this.

  “Tiny!” Juan shouted into his mic over the roar of the open door. “Tell me you have control of the plane!”

  “We’re in the cockpit,” Tiny said. “The pilots are dead. Linc and I have masks on, but emergency oxygen in the rest of the plane is out of commission. Descending now. It’ll take three minutes to get down to a breathable altitude.”

  That was too long. “Keep going. But when I tell you, pull up sharply.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Eddie still had his pistol, but Taylor’s defensive position was secure. She’d be able to gun him down before he could get a shot.

  “Over here!” Juan yelled to him. He was already beginning to feel light-headed.

  Eddie crawled over, and Juan handed him the end of the strap he was holding.

  “Hold on to this, and give me suppressing fire.”

  Eddie nodded and stood up to fire, plugging the Bugatti with rounds to keep Taylor’s head down.

  Juan jumped to his feet and sprinted to his target—the button to release the Bugatti’s retractable cargo restraints.

  Taylor saw him come into her line of fire at the same time that Juan flipped up the cover and slammed the button. She had a clean view of Juan and, with a venomous leer, she drew her pistol to fire.

  Juan shouted, “Tiny, pull up now!” He latched onto a handhold on the side of the bulkhead.

  The A380 instantly went into a steep climb.

  Taylor’s eyes went wide. She dropped the pistol and desperately tried to unwrap the strap that was knotted around her wrist.

  She didn’t move fast enough. The Bugatti, freed from the bolts in the deck, rolled backward, yanking Taylor by the strap. She fell to the floor and futilely clawed at the metal plating as she was dragged by the accelerating sports car toward the yawning gap.

  She let out a high-pitched scream as the car dropped out of the cargo hold and disappeared into the sky, taking her with it.

  “Tiny,” Juan called out through his tunneling vision, “take us down.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  The plane nosed into a dive.

  Juan staggered to the cargo door button and slapped his hand against it.

  The door began to close. Juan slumped to the floor, breathing as slowly as he could. He saw that Eddie had already passed out by the Cadillac.

  When the door was sealed, the air pressure in the cargo hold began to rise again. Within seconds, Juan was able to breathe normally. Eddie awoke, looked at Juan, and gave him a thumbs-up.

  “You all right down there?” Tiny asked.

  “We’re fine,” Juan said. “Natalie Taylor and the Bugatti are gone.”

  “Both pilots are dead. We’re on our own now. I told air traffic control in Cyprus that the previous emergency called in by the pilots was a false alarm, so we won’t be returning to the island. Where should we go?”

  “Find an out-of-the-way place for us to land near the Oregon,” Juan said. “I’m ready to get off this flying dinosaur.”

  * * *

  —

  Tiny found an abandoned Egyptian air base on the Sinai Peninsula with a runway long enough for the A380 to land. It was miles from the nearest town. They would be far away by the time anyone came to investigate why Carlton’s private airliner had landed in the remote region.

  Since the plane came with its own ground transportation, they decided to drive away in style. Tiny and Eddie stretched out in the backseat of the Cadillac while Linc piloted the car out of the cargo bay with Juan in the front passenger seat.

  The sun and breeze put them all in a better mood as the Caddy sped down the desert highway. They’d even helped themselves to some of the food and beverages from the A380’s galley for a post-mission snack.

  While everyone else ate and drank, Juan used the satellite phone they’d brought along.

  “This is the Party Express calling Max,” he said.

  “Here we thought you were dead because your trackers all but stopped moving,” Max replied, “and now we find out you’re living it up.”

  “I’d bring you the Cadillac we’re driving, but you wouldn’t have anywhere to drive it on the Oregon. However, we did manage to find four bottles of 1947 Macallan scotch from Xavier Carlton’s liquor cabinet. We figured that was the least he owed us for all this trouble. Where are you?”

  “Approaching the north end of the Red Sea. Not too far from you. Raven and MacD chartered a flight down here. We should be able to rendezvous with all of you in a few hours.”

  “What about the Colossus ships?”

  “They’re set to enter the Suez Canal tonight. The plan is to go in the same flotilla, so I convinced another cargo ship to give us their spot.”

  “Good work,” Juan said. “We found out the location for the Colossus ships to link up.”

  “Where?”

  “Great Bitter Lake. Apparently, they didn’t want to wait for Colossus 1, 2, and 4 to traverse the entire canal before they made the connection with Colossus 5, which should arrive from Cyprus at the north end of the canal just as we’re entering from the south end.”

  “So we can’t wait to stop them in open water,” Max said ominously.

  “Afraid not.”

  Juan understood Max’s uneasiness. Great Bitter Lake was nearly halfway between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea. To keep the artificial intelligence from becoming fully operational and taking over computers around the world, they were going to have to mount an assault on the Colossus ships in the middle of the Suez Canal.

  FIFTY-THREE

  THE ARABIAN SEA

  The Huey was noisy and uncomfortable, but Mallik had bought the Vietnam War–era helicopter for its best feature: it used no computers. It was tough and reliable, and with extra fuel tanks its range was more than five hundred miles. Both the Kalinga and Maurya frigates, circling the launch platform at thirty miles out, were equipped with Hueys. Mallik had been joined by Torkan for the flight from the Kalinga to the Orbital Ocean launch command ship on station two miles from the platform.

  The chopper settled onto the helipad, and Mallik was greeted by the flight director, Kapoor.

  “What’s the situation?” Mallik asked as he walked toward the railing of the ship to watch the crane hoisting a rocket onto the launch platform.

  “The rocket was not damaged by the passing monsoon.” Kapoor looked warily at Torkan, whose gaze was focused steadily on him instead of the rocket.

  “How soon until you can launch?”

  “We’ve been having some issues with the retrieval software on the first stage booster, but we think we’ve solved it.”

  The entire launch vehicle was reusable, including the booster, which would be guided back to landing on the launchpad using its retrorocket engines after it separated from the orbital insertion stage.

  “I asked you, when can we launch?” Mallik said impatiently.

  Kapoor cleared his throat. “Three days, if all systems pass the checklists.”

  “Three days? Why so long?”


  “We’re expecting another squall to pass through during tomorrow’s launch window. To have the satellite properly positioned relative to the other nineteen already in orbit, we have limited choices in our timing.”

  “I’m not stupid,” Mallik said. “Who do you think perfected those calculations?”

  Kapoor bowed his head in apology. “Of course, sir. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just get it right. And you better be ready to launch when the weather cooperates. I don’t want any more excuses. Go.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kapoor went back inside to the mission control room, with its wide polycarbonate window overlooking the launch platform.

  “You said you had news about Carlton?” Mallik said to Torkan.

  “His plane went down over Egypt.”

  “He’s dead?”

  “It’s not confirmed yet.”

  “What about Gupta?”

  “No word on him, either.”

  “If they’re both gone, that means Chen Min will have to listen to me now. Get him on the phone and call me when he’s on the line.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Mallik leaned on the railing and relished the sight of his brainchild being lifted into place for launch. The phone call telling the Colossus scientist to stand down would be even more enjoyable.

  NORTH OF PORT SAID, EGYPT

  Carlton stood on the bridge of the Colossus 5, fuming. He’d received notification that his plane had gone down in the Sinai with all hands on board. It wasn’t known if the plane crashed or if there were any survivors, but it had to be Mallik’s doing. Worst of all, he hadn’t heard from Natalie Taylor. If she were still alive, she would have contacted him.

  At least he’d made the right decision to stay aboard the ship. With a squad of mercenaries to protect him, he felt very safe where he was.

  Chen Min walked up to him and cleared his throat. He was holding his phone.

  “Mr. Carlton, I’m sorry to disturb you, but I think you’ll want to take this call.”

  “Who is it?” Carlton snarled. He was in no mood to talk to anyone. He knew it wasn’t Taylor. She would have called his personal line.

  “It’s Romir Mallik,” Chen said. “I have him on hold. He wants me to shut down Colossus.”

  Carlton was astounded at his enemy’s gall. He was about to take the phone when he realized that Mallik would only be calling if he thought Carlton and Gupta were dead. He’d heard about the plane going down and thought Torkan’s mission to assassinate him had been successful.

  He said to Chen, “Did you tell him I’m here?”

  “No, sir. I just asked him to hold for a moment.”

  “He thinks I died in the crash.” As satisfying as it would be to gloat to his nemesis that he’d failed yet again, Carlton had a better idea.

  “What should I say?” Chen asked.

  “Tell him that it’s chaos here. You don’t know what to do because you heard that my plane blew up over the desert.”

  “And his order to shut down Colossus?”

  “Tell him that you’ll do it right away,” Carlton said with glee. “Give him whatever evidence he wants that you’ve done it.”

  Chen nodded and went back to his office to continue the call. Despite the loss of his plane and cars, Carlton was already happier imagining the phone call he’d make to Mallik after Colossus was active and the Vajra satellite system was obliterated.

  A few minutes later, Chen came back, his face as inscrutable as ever.

  “Did it work?” Carlton asked.

  Chen nodded. “He seemed to believe me.”

  “Excellent. I would love to see the look on his face when he learns that I’m still here. How long until we reach the Suez?”

  “Seven hours. But we have a new problem.”

  Carlton sighed. “What now?”

  “I just received a weather report from Egypt. They’re expecting a sandstorm in the next twelve hours.”

  “How does that affect us?”

  “In the past when the canal has been hit with sandstorms, they’ve closed it to ship traffic because the visibility can be reduced to zero.”

  Carlton’s good mood vanished, and he glowered at Chen.

  “I don’t care what you have to do. You make sure we’re in the Suez Canal and on time for our rendezvous with the other ships or I will get rid of you and promote the next person in line.”

  Carlton’s eyes flicked to his new bodyguard, Bondarev, the intimidating and muscular ex-Spetsnaz soldier who had betrayed Gupta.

  Chen gulped, then shouted at the captain of the ship to push the engines to their maximum power.

  The ship increased speed. Nothing, not even Mother Nature, was going to delay Carlton’s plans to dominate the world.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  THE SUEZ CANAL

  Predating the Panama Canal by forty-five years, the Suez Canal differed from its Central American cousin in one fundamental way. While the link between the Pacific and Atlantic oceans required a series of locks to carry ships up and over the mountainous terrain of the Panamanian jungle, the isthmus between the main body of Egypt and the Sinai Peninsula barely rose above sea level. No locks were required for the vessels that passed between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean.

  From its completion in 1869 until 2015, most of the canal was too narrow for two-way traffic and was strictly one-way only. Ships in flotillas of a dozen at a time proceeded single file from the Mediterranean to Great Bitter Lake seventy miles to the south. There, they would wait in the fifteen-mile-long lake for the ships traveling in the opposite direction from the Red Sea to complete their traverse of the southern part of the canal before continuing on.

  Then in 2015, Egypt added a second waterway parallel to the first for forty-five miles of the northern segment. Each side was linked at regular intervals by connector canals to allow for small maintenance vessels to cross from the northerly canal to the southerly half.

  A satellite image of that segment of the canal was now laid out on one half of the big screen of the Oregon’s op center. Juan was back in his command chair, a cup of coffee in his hand to keep him awake after the long night and day. He was still sorry he had had to abandon Carlton’s Cadillac in the city of Suez, where they boarded the Oregon.

  It was now six in the evening, and they were heading north in the canal approaching Great Bitter Lake. The view from the bow of the ship covered the rest of the screen. The berms on either side marking the walls of the canal were drawing away to reveal the expansive body of water in the middle of the desert.

  “We’re entering the lake,” Eric said.

  “Steady as she goes, Stoney,” Juan said. “Can we see the Colossus ships?”

  Murph panned the camera to starboard past the mass of cargo ships gathered in the lake and zoomed in on three identical ships anchored a hundred yards from one another at the east side of the lake. Juan recognized the helical masts and large satellite dishes from his dive on the Colossus 3.

  “Which ship is Colossus 1?”

  Murph zoomed in even more until they could read Colossus 1 on the stern of the closest ship.

  “That’s our target,” Max said.

  “That’s your target,” Juan corrected. “How many prisoners do we think are aboard her?”

  “Lyla Dhawan said that more than twenty passengers from the jet were taken,” Eric said.

  “Sorry to be the Gloomy Gus here,” Murph said, “but, for all we know, they could have been killed by now.”

  “Lionel Gupta’s information said that they were still alive two weeks ago,” Juan said. The series of characters Gupta had written down before he was killed turned out to be a link to a cache of files about the Colossus Project that he’d kept secret from the other Nine Unknown Men, confirming that the cabal still existed and had planned this artificial intell
igence initiative. Gupta’s engineering firm, OreDyne, had been the lead developer of the computer systems. “Unless Carlton has had them killed since then,” Juan went on, “they’re still alive on that ship. We have to proceed on the assumption that they are and rescue them.”

  “Once we get them off the Colossus 1, what options do we have for disabling Colossus?” Max asked.

  Juan shook his head. “I already spoke to Langston Overholt about the choices. It’s too late to use Julia’s cyanobacteria. The Colossus ships will be able to link up long before the infection can take effect. Who knows the havoc the fully operational AI could cause by then? And sinking the ships by gun or torpedo is out of the question. He thinks attacking unarmed vessels in the middle of a vital international waterway wouldn’t be such a good idea for some reason.”

  “But if they happened to sink because of a design flaw on their own ships?”

  “Like a faulty self-destruct mechanism?” Juan said with a smile. “Perfect.”

  “Then it’s all on you.”

  Gupta’s files also provided details about how the self-destruct system on the Colossus ships worked. Because of the shocking sabotage of the Colossus 3, the mechanism had been altered to be initiated only by Carlton and the chief scientist, Chen Min, on the Colossus 5. It would also set the timer on all the other Colossus ships in range of its radio beacon.

  However, unbeknownst to the other Nine, Gupta had installed a back door into the self-destruct system accessible from any of the luxurious cabins set aside for the Nine. He didn’t trust the others to do the right thing if the AI went haywire, so he put it in so that he could activate it if he saw the need to.

  Once it was activated from this secondary location, it would lock out the abort command from any other location. All Juan and his team had to do was get on the ship and activate the self-destruct once the ships were in range of one another.