River of Ruin

port, but all of Panama, including the mighty canal. At the same time he was giving his homeland the leverage it needed to finally rein in the rogue province of Taiwan. It was a momentous day and he didn’t blame himself for allowing no other thoughts but this to concern him.

The loose ends-Maria Barber, Philip Mercer, and the soldiers helping him-had been relegated to the back of his mind. They were distractions really, nothing more than nuisances he would deal with over the next few days. President Quintero would be grateful to help him hunt them down for another percentage or two of the Inca treasure his men were sure to find.

His cell phone rang as he reached the huge building that hid the Korvald. He let the phone ring a second time so he could step out of the driving rain. The ship loomed over him, its funnel no more than fifteen feet from the arched roof. The rain beat against the metal building and made the drafty interior vibrate.

He shook water off his coat and unfolded his phone. “Yes.”

“Mr. Liu, this is Captain Chen. I’m at the Pedro Miguel Lock. Something is wrong.”

Liu’s voice cracked. “What?”

“The captain of the Englander Rose-”

“Use the code name, damnit!”

“Ah, Gemini Two. He reported that he heard gunshots and then he went off the air.”

“Gunshots? Where?”

“On his ship, sir.” The military commander paused, unsure how to proceed, for he could feel Liu’s anger over the phone. “And now it appears the ship is sitting just above the lock.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, sir. Ah, hold on, please. I’m getting another report.”

Much to Liu’s irritation the connection was cut. What was that all about? He looked up to the rafters and noted that one of the big overhead cranes was in position to remove the DF-31 missiles from the Korvald. The rockets were going to be loaded directly on the eight erector/launcher trucks that lined the dock on one side of the refrigerator ship, their bright paintwork an odd juxtaposition to their deadly purpose.

The phone rang again and he answered before the chime stopped. “Talk.”

“The captain of Gemini One is reporting a problem on the Mario diCastorelli. He says that it just grounded in the Gaillard Cut, but not in its exact target spot and that the submarine was crushed when she hit.”

“An accident?”

“He couldn’t tell. He’s evacuating his own ship using its lifeboats.”

“Is he in position to detonate the Change?” Liu asked sharply, ignoring his own rule about code names.

“Pretty close, sir. His men will make their way to shore and run for Gamboa and the boat that will carry them to the Atlantic side of the canal.”

“What’s happening on Gemini Two?”

“Nothing. It’s just sitting there. I’m about to order some men onto a pilot boat to see what the problem is. I’ll call you back when I have a report.”

“Good.” Liu snapped off his phone and walked calmly toward the gangplank. He relaxed his shoulders and returned his face to neutral. He wanted nothing to disrupt his plans and he realized how the Korvald’s captain, Wong Hui, seemed to want a reason to bolt with the eight rockets still in the ship’s hold.

Captain Wong, Sergeant Huai and Mr. Sun met him as he climbed up the steep set of stairs and stepped onto the old ship’s deck. “Gentlemen,” Liu greeted warmly. “I trust we are set to go this morning.”

Wong made a point to study his watch. “At eleven o’clock, Mr. Liu.”

Liu tried to disarm the man. He smiled. “I can see why General Yu chose you for this job, Captain. Your dedication is laudable.”

“It is, yes,” Wong said without expression. “We have almost an hour to wait. Join me in my cabin for tea.”

“Is that really necessary?” Liu wanted those rockets on the dock as soon as possible. With those in his hands, General Yu couldn’t claim ignorance of what was happening if something catastrophic really was happening at Pedro Miguel.

This time, a hint of merriment touched the dour captain’s eyes. “Of course it isn’t. We can wait right here until the appointed hour.”

Bowing slightly in the face of such obstinacy, Liu made a gesture for Wong to lead the way. They waited in silence for a steward to bring the service and pour the tea. Liu felt the double pressure of Wong’s stubbornness, which bordered on insubordination, and the dissecting glances that Mr. Sun shot his way, as if he knew something was amiss. Only Sergeant Huai, a veteran of countless battles and a master of patiently waiting between them, seemed immune to the tension. He drank the tea and kept his eyes from meeting anyone else’s without seeming obsequious or arrogant.

Liu’s cell phone cried from inside his coat pocket. Rather than draw even more attention by excusing himself, he took the call and made sure his responses were guarded. “Liu Yousheng.”

“Sir, it’s Cheng.”

“Yes, of course. How may I help you?”

“Sir, the pilot boat was destroyed. I think by rockets from Gemini Two, but I can’t be sure. Now the ship is turning back for the lock. I think they mean to go back down.”

“Well, that is interesting news,” Liu replied mildly while his stomach erupted so fiercely that acid seared the base of his tongue. He fought not to wince and covered the pain by shifting in his seat. “Anything else?”

Either Cheng caught on to the fact Liu couldn’t speak openly or was too frightened to notice. He continued his report despite his superior’s easy tone. “The ship is about to reenter the lock. The bottom gates are closed so maybe they mean to ram it.”

“Let them try.” Liu’s laugh was genuine, for he knew nothing short of a battleship at full speed could break through the two sets of massive gates.

“Sir!” Cheng shouted. “More explosions! It’s not coming from the Englander Rose. We’re under attack. Artillery of some kind. They’re targeting the doors.” There was a pause. Liu could hear detonations over the crackling cellular connection. “They’re gone. The doors are gone. The ship just raced by me going so fast I couldn’t see who was on the bridge. They’re on Miraflores Lake.”

Liu stood. He could no longer keep up a facade in front of Captain Wong. He nodded to the men and stepped from the cabin, moving far enough down the hallway so he couldn’t be overheard. His voice became an angry hiss. “What are you saying?”

“A barrage of some kind blew apart the lower lock doors. Water is pouring through and the Englander Rose went with it. It just passed a freighter on Miraflores and looks like it’s heading for the next set of locks.”

“Listen to me very carefully. That ship must not get off the lake. If you can stop it and get aboard I’ve got the code that will let you reset the timer on the explosives. We can still get the ship to the cut and finish what we started.”

“Yes, sir. I have a force at the Miraflores Locks and I can get the rest of my men down there before the ship reaches it. We’ll stop them.”

“Make sure you do, Cheng.” Liu put his phone away and stood looking at his feet, his face creased in thought. The dice were still rolling and a chance remained to effect their outcome.

A voice from behind snapped him from his reverie, a voice that wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near Panama, let alone on the Korvald.

“It seems you’re having a problem.” General Yu stood near the first officer’s cabin, where he’d been listening. There was a smirk on his pug face, delighting in seeing the younger executive about to have his world torn away from him. “It appears that we gambled and you lost.”

Mercer dove into the bridge. “Incoming!” he shouted again.

The rocket, a Chinese version of the Russian man-portable RPG-7, was primarily an antitank weapon with a