Mark Murphy, the Oregon's weapons specialist, replied in his west Texas drawl, "If any of them Cuban missile launchers so much as hiccups, we'll take them out."

"You can expect aircraft once we're in the open sea."

"Nuthin' we cain't handle."

He turned to Linda Ross. "Linda?"

"All systems are online," she replied calmly.

Cabrillo set the phone in its cradle and relaxed, lighting up a thin Cuban cigar. He looked around at the ship's crew, standing in the control center. They were all staring at him, waiting expectantly.

"Well," he said slowly, before taking a deep breath, "I guess we  might as well go."

He gave a voice command to the computer, the winch was set in motion, and the anchor slowly, quietly--through Teflon sleeves the team had inserted inside the hawsehole, which deadened the clank of the chain--rose from the bottom of the harbor. Another command and the Oregon began to inch slowly ahead.

Down in the engine room, Max Hanley studied the gauges and instruments on the huge console. His four big magnetohydrodynamics engines were a revolutionary design for maritime transport. They intensified and compounded the electricity found in saline seawater before running it through a magnetic core tube kept at absolute zero by liquid helium. The electrical current that was produced created an extremely high energy force that pumped the water through thrusters in the stern  for propulsion.

Not only were the Oregon's engines capable of pushing the big cargo ship at incredible speeds, but it required no fuel except the seawater that passed through its magnetic core. The source of the propulsion was inexhaustible. Another advantage was that the ship did not require huge fuel tanks, which enabled the space to be utilized for other purposes.

There were only four other ships in the world with magnetohydrodynamics engines--three cruise ships and one oil tanker. Those who had installed the engines in the Oregon had been sworn to secrecy.

Hanley took proprietary care of the high-tech engines. They were reliable and rarely caused problems. He labored over them as if they were an extension of his own soul. He kept them finely tuned and in a constant state of readiness for extreme and extended operation. He watched now as they automatically engaged and began pushing the ship into the channel that led to the sea.

Above in the command center, armored panels slid noiselessly apart, revealing a large window on the forward bulkhead. The murmur among  the men and women gazing intently at the lights of the city was quiet, as though the men manning the Cuban defense systems could hear their words.

Cabrillo spotted another ship leaving the harbor ahead of them.

"What ship is that?" he asked.

One of the team pulled up the list of ship arrivals and departures on his computer monitor. "She's a Chinese-registered cargo vessel carrying sugar to Hangchou," he reported. "She's leaving port nearly an hour ahead of her scheduled departure time."

"Name?" asked Cabrillo.