beaten with a rifle butt. I was made to lie down on my stomach while my back was stomped upon. I saw friends beaten to death. I lost all hope. I prayed each night to die.”

Sujan covers himself, then pauses, struggling to regain his composure. “Seven years, Mr. Wolfe. I was released on the verge of death, bedridden for eight months. When I was well enough, I traveled to India to live out my life with distant cousins. One worked in the Ministry of Tourism in Calcutta. He introduced me to an American film director who was documenting human rights violations in Asia. I became his eyes and ears. He took me to California, where I spoke to audiences after each viewing of his film. It was during an afternoon show at Caltech that I met David Paniagua.”

“Fate, huh?”

Sujan nods. “In Buddhism, we call this karma, the law of cause and effect. I must confess, I had felt nothing but bad karma about this voyage from the moment we left the submarine base in Jianggezhuang—until you were brought on board. I believe it was your destiny to join this crusade. I believe that God has made you his messenger—”

“God’s messenger … what a crock! I’m no holy man, I’m a murderer. Want to know what I did? I killed children! Bang—I shot ’em all dead … all in the name of life, liberty, and the pursuit of God-knows-what. You call that karma?”

The Tibetan stands to leave, his bright almond eyes glittering. “Everyone has a Buddha nature, Mr. Wolfe. I am convinced it is your decisions that will determine the outcome of this voyage, and with it … humanity’s fate. As for being God’s messenger, it would be wise to keep in mind that we do not choose God, God chooses us.”

“It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.”

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

“The poorest man in Uganda is General Amin. It is better for me to be poor and the people rich.”

—Idi Amin, Uganda dictator, whose reign of brutality, torture, and mass murder left more than three hundred thousand people dead and the majority of his people impoverished

”Now that everyone is happy in Iran, I will allow my coronation to take place.“

—Mohammad-Reza Pahlavi, the Shah of Iran, who organized Savak, a brutal secret police with a reputation for torture

”It was in the Christmas spirit. It makes me happy.“

—David Bullock, a street hustler who murdered a man because he was”messing with the Christmas tree“

CHAPTER 21

Aboard the Goliath

Taur Araujo leads David through the hangar bay and into the engine room. “I was searching for Chaw when I found this—” His flashlight reveals a trail of blood, running from the grated steel walkway, clear up the sheer wall of reactor number three.

Hovering above the reactor is one of Goliath’s steel claws, attached to a ceiling- mounted winch. Araujo’s light illuminates the tips of the three-pronged pincers.

Stained red.

“Does anyone else know about this?”

“No.”

Sorceress, locate Thomas Chau.”

THOMAS CHAU IS IN THE STARBOARD WEAPONS BAY.

Aboard the USS Scranton

Thirteen hours, forty-two minutes …

The sounds of the sea have become a lullaby to Michael Flynn. Heavy eyelids begin to close, the tension in his aching neck and back easing as he lays his head down to rest.

“Flynnie!”

The technician lifts his head from the console. “Sorry, sir.”

The sonar supervisor approaches. “When’s the last time you had a break?”

“A few hours ago. I’m fine, really, sir.”

“At least drink another cup of coffee—”

“No more coffee, Supe, I’ve been pissing like a racehorse.” Flynn’s body suddenly becomes rigid. He presses the headphones tighter.

“What is it? What do you hear?”

“Something just lifted away from the bottom.” Flynn closes his eyes to concentrate, opening them as he hears the familiar whisper of pump-jet propulsors. “It’s her, Chief. It’s the Goliath.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely sure.”

“Conn, sonar, we’ve reestablished contact with Sierra-2. She’s moving west through the Strait, contact bearing zero-eight-zero, approximate range is eleven thousand yards.”

“WEPS, Captain, do we have a firing solution yet?”

“No, sir. We can’t seem to get a lock on her.”

Commander Dennis turns to his CO. “And even if we could, her antitorpedo torpedoes erase any threat at this distance.”

“Conn, sonar, Sierra-2 has negotiated the Strait and is now changing course. New bearing, two-zero- zero.”

Cubit’s eyebrows raise. “She’s heading south, away from the fleet.”

“You were right, Skipper, it was a ruse. She’s probably heading for another launch site.”

“Mr. Friedenthal, give Sierra-2 the maximum distance that sonar can track her, then restart engines and come to course two-zero-zero, all-ahead one-third.”

Aboard the Goliath

Gunnar knocks on the stateroom door. “Rocky? Rocky, it’s me.”

The door opens. Rocky falls into his arms, embracing him.

He returns her hug, caught off guard by her sudden emotional display. “What’s all this? I thought you despised me?”

She looks up at him, teary-eyed. “Get me off this death ship.”

He pauses. Thinks. “Come on, I’m hungry.” Grabbing her arm, he leads her down the corridor.

The galley is empty. He heads back to the kitchen, approaching the big walk-in freezer. “Want a steak? I thought I saw some inside the other day. Come and help me look.”

Вы читаете Goliath
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ОБРАНЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату