Outside, water no longer constricted by the tall sides of the ship’s hull rushed in over the edge of the top deck, down into the ports and stairwells. The incredible deluge swept with it everything from the deck that was not nailed down and, in some cases, even those that were.
58
Chao watched calmly from the deck of his ship as it passed within a kilometer of the Bowditch. He’d never seen a ship destroyed up close before. It was fascinating.
His dark eyes watched the devastation unfold as the Bowditch suddenly began to roll, tipping its port side down below the water line and allowing a massive curtain of water to cascade over the top. The destruction was fantastic.
He turned his eyes to the half dozen life rafts floating away from the stern. Several figures could be seen still trying to get off the ship in time but were instead swept away by the deluge. The rest were desperately trying to paddle away from the enormous stern that was turning upside down right in front of them.
There was no sympathy in Chao’s gaze, just observational curiosity. He didn’t care whether any of them lived or died. Death was a fact of life. Some just met their end sooner than others. Although deep down, Chao did feel a spark of gratification as the largest empire in the world was caught completely off guard again.
The front of the Bowditch was sinking faster now as the flow of seawater into its damaged bow continued to outpace the rest of the ship. The forward section of the main deck was already underwater, and it continued its slide beneath the heavy waves that would soon entomb it, forever.
The sudden roll of the Bowditch took everyone by surprise. Alison jumped to her feet and screamed, watching the sea wash over the side of the ship and envelope the last of the crewmembers still on its stern. “NO!”
Alison had been clinging to hopes that Clay and the Captain would still appear on deck and make it out in time, but any hope she had left was instantly washed away with the last of the crewmembers.
She stood in the raft, motionless, watching the last of the giant waves pour over the end of the stern. No. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible! Clay was still aboard!
Alison’s bottom lip began to tremble as Kelly stood up behind her and wrapped her arms around Ali’s shoulders. Tears began to well up. She felt the hands of Chris and Lee each slip into hers and squeeze gently.
Behind her, Borger watched, completely stunned. The moaning of the ship’s steel hull and the roar of the receding water was all that could be heard. No sirens. No horns. No calls for help. Nothing.
An overwhelming sense of dread silenced everyone, as the reality of what had just happened settled over the survivors. It was a sickening feeling of death.
It took less than ten minutes for the last of the Bowditch’s gray hull to slip silently beneath the waves. All that was left behind by the last bit of the stern was a gentle turbulence in the water.
In the distance, Borger watched Chao’s corvette disappear to the south. The moment was punctuated by the sound of Alison weeping openly on Kelly’s shoulder.
The survivors watched solemnly as dozens of small craft could be seen leaving Georgetown, heading for them. It was comforting but did nothing to ease the misery.
What did help came just a moment later: a loud sound behind them. Almost in unison, more than one hundred and twenty heads turned around and spotted the distant object. Alison had to wipe the tears from her eyes to see clearly. When she saw it, she knew exactly what it was.
On the horizon was the unmistakable white hull of a ship she had been on before.
It was the Bowditch’s sister ship, Pathfinder, commanded by Captain Rudolph Emerson. The sound the survivors had heard was a long steady blast from the Pathfinder’s horn. With engines roaring, Emerson and his crew were charging south as fast as they possibly could.
59
Captain Emerson stood stoically inside the Pathfinder’s bridge. They had been running hard all through the night and had received the Bowditch’s final distress call just minutes earlier. Still, Emerson was stunned at what he saw: six life rafts, bobbing helplessly on the distant swells, surrounded by an ocean of debris. Nothing else.
The Bowditch was gone.
“All hands,” he barked into his microphone. “I repeat: all hands, report to the main deck and prepare to receive passengers!”
He dropped the microphone to his side and with steely blue eyes took in the scene through the giant window as they slowly approached.
“Get me Admiral Langford.”
Langford’s head hung low with both hands on his desk. After a long pause, he collapsed into his chair. He hung up with Emerson and switched back to the other line. When he spoke again, his voice was very different than it had been just two minutes ago.
“Mr. President,” Langford’s tone was as heavy as his heart. “The Bowditch has been destroyed.”
The call fell silent for several long seconds. When the President’s voice spoke again, it was only one word.
“Survivors?”
Langford nodded. “Yes. But I don’t know how many yet.”
The White House had been wrong. They’d underestimated the lengths the Chinese would go to protect their discovery. Commander Lawton had said it was something countries would fight over, and she was right. Which meant the potential of this new plant was every bit as accurate as she claimed, maybe more. It wasn’t a fluke, or a mistake, or anything else the President’s cabinet had suggested. It was something so powerful that the Chinese had just started a war. And given how quickly they did it, he wondered to what lengths the second most powerful nation on earth was really willing to take it?
President Carr and everyone involved had prevented Langford from doing anything until it was too late, all in an effort to avoid conflict. And by doing so, they had incited something far worse.
The point was not lost on anyone on Langford’s call. They had been wrong and those on the Bowditch had paid the ultimate price.
“Are you still there, Admiral?”
“I am.”
“Good.” The President’s voice was clear and sharp. “I want you to listen carefully. As of this moment, I authorize you to send whatever forces you need.”
Langford did not answer. He remained staring at the wall. He had ordered Krogstad to stop the Chinese corvette, even if it meant ramming it. Christ, all of this was his fault.
“Did you hear me, Admiral?”
Langford blinked out of his daze. “Yes.”
“All right,” said Carr. The President then addressed his Chief of Staff. “I want my entire security team on a call in fifteen minutes.”
The rescue was swift and smooth. The Pathfinder’s rear platform had a lower height due to the remote control rovers with which they frequently experimented. After relocating two large cranes on the platform, it served as the boarding point for the Bowditch’s survivors.
As one person after another was pulled up to safety, the expressions of thanks were everywhere. Yet, when Alison finally climbed off the last raft, she displayed no such expression. Her look was one of complete devastation.
Emerson spotted her and pressed through the crowd that was growing quickly. “Where’s Clay?”
The Captain’s expression melted when Alison burst into tears. Behind her, a black and blue Chris Ramirez frowned at the Captain and shook his head slowly from side to side.
Emerson couldn’t hide his disbelief. Dear lord, we lost Clay! He barely noticed when the rest of Alison’s team approached and surrounded her. Emerson blinked several times, still stunned. Finally, he asked the second question. “And Captain Krogstad?” He was met with nothing but silence.