“I said, don’t move!” Stucky shouted again.
Tanner realized he was looking past them. Briggs turned.
Azhar sat propped against the bomb housing. In his left hand he held the trigger. He stared at it, tears streaming down his face. He looked at Tanner.
“I’m sorry, Briggs. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t… you… move!” Stucky bellowed.
Tanner said, “Art, he’s not—”
“Shut up!”
To Stucky’s right, Camille began edging toward an AK-47 lying on the deck. Tanner jerked his gun up. “Not another inch, Camille.”
“Briggs, what—”
“Stay right where you are. Art, just relax. He isn’t—”
“Bullshit!”
Camille said, “Briggs, what are you doing? I—”
“I saw you, Camille. I saw you at the warehouse. You led them there.”
Another explosion rocked the ship. The deck canted beneath their feet. Shell casings began sliding toward the port bulkhead, clinking like broken glass. Tanner could hear the gurgle of seawater climbing the hull outside.
“No!” Camille said. “God, no! Briggs, I—”
“Bear, cover her,” Tanner ordered.
Cahil raised his Glock. “Got her.”
Tanner called over his shoulder, “Abu, how much time?”
“Four minutes,” Azhar croaked.
Tanner turned back to Stucky. “He’s not one of them, Art.”
“You’re one naive son of a bitch, you know that?”
“Don’t do it, Art.”
“Drop your gun.”
“No.”
“Drop it, or I’ll shoot him right now!”
Cahil muttered, “Briggs?”
“Stay where you are, Bear. Okay, Art, just take it easy….” Very carefully, Tanner leaned over and set the pistol on the deck. “There. We still have time—”
“Kick it away and step back.”
Tanner kicked the gun across the deck and took a step to the right.
Stucky shook his head sadly and then chuckled.
In that instant, in Stucky’s ugly grin, Briggs saw it all. It was him.
Stucky said, “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?”
“Don’t, Art.”
“Fuck you.”
“Don’t!”
Stucky pulled the trigger. Tanner charged. As they collided, Briggs heard four rapid pops. Stucky grunted, they fell backward together. As they hit the deck, Stucky rolled sideways, trying to swing the rifle barrel into Tanner’s belly.
Tanner batted it away and heaved backward, pulling them both to their feet. He wrenched the Galil from Stucky’s hands, reversed it, and slammed the butt into Stucky’s face. Blood exploded from his nose. He stumbled backward, bounced off the bulkhead, and lurched forward. Tanner was ready. He dropped his shoulder and swung with everything he had. The Galil’s butt caught Stucky under the chin, snapping his head back. Stucky went down hard and lay still.
Tanner stared down at him. The room was swimming. He was the one, he thought. Not Camille… him! He took a step forward and put the barrel to Stucky’s temple.
“Briggs!”
One squeeze…
“Briggs, the bomb!”
The word hit Tanner like an electric charge. He turned. Azhar lay face up on the deck. He was dead. All four of Stucky’s shots had struck his face and neck. As the deck continued to tilt, the body rolled onto its side and slid into the corner.
Camille stepped forward and touched his arm. “Oh, Briggs…”
He squeezed her hand. “I know. How much time, Bear?”
“Three minutes.”
From above, they heard the sound of helicopter rotors followed by shouts. A shadow passed over the hatch. More shouts, then footsteps pounding on the deck.
“Can we stop it, Bear?”
Cahil crouched beside the housing. “It would take at least five minutes just to trace the wiring.”
“It’s an imploder?”
“Right.”
“There might be a way, then.”
Tanner explained what he had in mind.
“Risky,” said Cahil.
“Is the alternative any worse?”
“No, I guess not.”
They went to work. The deck was slanting badly now — fifty degrees at least — and they had to grip the housing to keep from sliding. Camille stood with one leg on the deck, the other braced against the bulkhead.
“Camille, you should leave,” Tanner said.
“I’m staying.”
“If you go now, you can get clear.”
“I’m staying.”
“Are your people getting the hostages?”
“Yes.”
Fifty kilotons, Tanner thought. What kind of blast radius? If what he had in mind failed, they would soon find out.
“Give me your gun, Bear.”
Cahil pulled out his Glock and handed it over.
Tanner removed the magazine and ejected a bullet. Using Cahil’s multitool, he pried the slug from the cartridge and handed it to Bear. Next, careful not to spill the gunpowder, Briggs slid the cartridge into the Glock’s chamber, closed the slide, and set the gun upright between his knees.
“Time?” he asked.
“Two minutes thirty.”
The deck slanted past sixty degrees. Through the hatch, Tanner could see the sky tipping as Tsumago rolled onto her side. He lost his footing, slipped, and scrambled to pull himself back to the housing.
Using his index finger and thumb, Cahil pressed the slug against the deck. “Ready?”
Tanner nodded.
“Do it!”
Tanner reversed the multitool, took aim, and struck.
“Again,” said Cahil.
Tanner struck again.
“Once more.”
Cahil examined the bullet. The blows had flattened the hollow-point nose, but left the harder copper tail intact.
“It’ll have to do,” Tanner said.
Camille asked, “What are you doing?”
“Improvising,” Tanner replied. “Time, Bear.”
“Ninety seconds.”
“Gimme al-Baz’s kaffiyeh.”
“I’ll do it, Briggs. You—”
“Give it to me, Bear.”
“Stubborn son of a bitch.” Cahil grabbed the bloody scarf from around al-Baz’s neck and wrapped it tightly around Tanner’s hand and forearm. “Might not be enough, you know,” he whispered. “Your hand will—”
“Ready?”
“Briggs, even if this works, there’s enough C-4 inside to blow—”
“I know, Bear.” Handling the Glock like fine china, Tanner pulled back the slide, peeked to make sure the cartridge was seated properly, then eased the slide closed. “Go ahead:”
Cahil slipped the tail of the bullet into the barrel. It didn’t fit. “Shit.”
“Whittle it,” Tanner said.
Cahil flicked open his knife, scraped a sliver from the bullet’s tail, tried again.
Still too big.
He carved another sliver, tried again. This time it slid home. “Tight fit.”
“Force it.”
Using the multitool, Cahil screwed the bullet into the barrel until it could go no farther. The nose jutted from the barrel like a mushroom. “That’s as good as it’s gonna get, bud.”
“Time?”
“Forty seconds.”
Tanner turned to Cahil and smiled. “Look on the bright side, Bear. If this doesn’t work, we’ll never know it.”
“Always the optimist.”
“You and Camille get topside.”
“You—”
“I’ll be there. Go, Bear.”
Bear gave Tanner a final squeeze on the shoulder, then took Camille’s arm and pushed her toward the ladder. She turned back. “Briggs…”
“Go on, Camille. I’ll be right behind you.”
Tanner watched them climb the ladder and disappear through the hatch.