“What’s a deep-water port?” Dean asked.
“You talking to me?” said the pilot.
“If you know the answer.”
“Port ships use them because they draw too much water to get into a regular harbor,” said the pilot. “Like LOOP, up near New Orleans, and that gas port they’re talking about building near Houston.”
“We need to get to LOOP if you know where it is,” Dean told the pilot.
“I don’t know if we have enough fuel.”
“Push it,” said Dean.
CHAPTER 135
When they were twenty miles away, Razaq Khan told Kenan to go and prepare. Kenan went to the small shower in the captain’s compartment and cleansed himself, scrubbing deliberately and praying that he would be worthy of the task ahead. When he was done, he pulled on a fresh white shirt, leaving its tails untucked. It was as close as his mission allowed to the pilgrim’s shroud one wore to Mecca.
Kenan took over at the wheel while the helmsman went to change. They were moving steadily now; he could see a supertanker just leaving the LOOP moorings far off to starboard. In fifteen minutes, he would be challenged; he could answer in his sleep. Just in case the monitors aboard LOOP became suspicious, Kenan would push a button that would broadcast the distress call of one of the work ships that operated out of Port Fourchon. The coast guard patrol craft would investigate, leaving the way to LOOP free for the
“I am ready,” said the helmsman, returning.
Kenan stepped to the radio. Khan took the key from his neck and placed it into the control panel.
“Do not leave the bridge for anything,” Khan told Kenan. “If I am gone, you are in charge. Complete our mission.”
Kenan, awed by the trust Khan showed in him, nodded.
“May God grant us our moment,” said Khan, going to check on the others.
CHAPTER 136
There were seven large ships within three miles of LOOP, and another dozen or so within an hour’s sailing time. And that didn’t count another dozen or so merchant ships near Port Fourchon, let alone the myriad of small vessels scattered offshore.
“All right. The coast guard is working from the west,” Dean told the pilot, relaying what Telach had told him. “There are two ships coming up from the southeast we want to check on.”
The pilot stared at him. Dean realized that he had forgotten to pretend to use his phone.
“I can’t explain the communications system. It’s classified, all right?”
“Yeah, not a problem. We have enough fuel to buzz one or two, but then we absolutely have to head inland to land.”
Dean spotted a helicopter on the LOOP platform.
“There’s a helipad on the LOOP platform,” said Dean. “You think you can refuel there?”
“If they let me, sure.”
“They’ll let you,” said Dean. “Don’t sweat it.”
CHAPTER 137
Kenan felt his pulse rise as the radio call came in. He answered smoothly, exactly as he had practiced a million times.
The response he got was one he hadn’t expected.
“LOOP is being closed,” replied the voice.
“Closed? But—”
“You’ll have to talk to the coast guard,” replied the man on the other side of the radio. “We’ve been ordered to return to shore. You’re to stop where you are and await further instructions. Other arrangements will be made.”
They were roughly seven minutes from the tie-up point, and another five from the control rig where they were to detonate the explosives. Could they be stopped in twelve minutes?
No, thought Kenan. No. Allah had brought them close enough to succeed.
They were expecting a response. Should he continue to protest? What would a “normal” ship do?
They would comply — there really was no choice, was there? — then the captain would contact his shipping company for directions, or perhaps make other arrangements to offload his crude.
“Roger, we copy,” said Kenan. “Aztec Exact is changing course and will await further instructions.”
He debated whether to use the radio distress call that was planned as a distraction. Perhaps he should save it until later.
No. Best to follow the plan as closely as possible. He pressed the button, jamming the radio frequencies with the bogus calls of a pleasure boat sinking miles away.
Twelve minutes. All he had to do was press the ignition button as the ship drew close to the platform. The explosion would rupture the pipeline and destroy the platform in one swoop.
“Helicopter,” said the helmsman.
Kenan looked toward the control platform. A helicopter had just taken off.
“They’re evacuating,” Kenan told him. “Just hold our course.”
Then he heard the sound of a rotor nearby and realized the helmsman had been talking about different craft completely.
CHAPTER 138
Dean could see two people on the bridge. He swept his binoculars around, trying to find someone else.
“I see only two people,” he told Rockman. “How many would it take it to run the ship?”
“More than that. Are they answering your hails?”
“They were just talking to LOOP control. There’s a distress call blocking the channels.”
“We’re working on that,” said Rockman. “We haven’t been able to locate the boat that’s sending it.”
There hadn’t been time to send a plane overhead to provide video from the scene. The Art Room was tracking vessels by compiling data from the coast guard cutter and navy ships well offshore, along with satellite images a few minutes old. But there was no way to easily pinpoint the locations of all the small vessels in the area.
“He’s not changing course or stopping,” said Dean, studying the
“Tell them to leave the area.”
“Stand by.”
Dean leaned over to the radio to make sure he had the proper channel.
“Fuel’s getting low,” said the pilot. “We only have a couple of minutes.”
“Let’s talk to this ship and see what they’re up to. Then we can go over to the platform and gas up.”
Dean broadcast on the channel LOOP had used earlier, warning the
