Free of its leash, the ship surged forward, angling out of the narrow inlet. Dirk scanned the deck for his father, but aside from the bodies of the two gunmen on the bow, the ship appeared empty. He eyed the bridge atop the rear superstructure and took off at a run across the long, open deck. He made it to a side door and was on the first steps of the companionway when gunfire erupted overhead.

Repeated bursts of gunfire sounded for nearly half a minute as Dirk raced up the stairs. When he reached the fourth level, the shooting fell silent, and he proceeded cautiously from there up to the bridge deck. He clutched the SIG Sauer at the ready as he crept onto the bridge.

He’d taken only a few steps past the door when a warm muzzle was jammed into the back of his neck. He froze in his tracks, but the barrel was quickly removed.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to come aboard.”

Dirk turned his head to find it was his father holding the gun, relief plastered on his face.

“I wasn’t aware you were the captain of this tub,” Dirk said.

“Apparently, I am now.” Pitt pointed across the bridge.

There was nothing but carnage around them. The bridge windows were shot out and the radar and navigation monitors shattered. Smoke from the decimated electronics filled the air with an acrid odor. In the far corner lay the bloodied body of Gomez.

“Gave him a chance, but he refused to take it.”

Dirk nodded, then glanced out the broken forward window of the pilotless ship. The Adelaide had nearly cleared the inlet, but a wall of rocks and mangroves blocked its path.

“There’re rocks ahead!” he said, jumping to the helm.

“They’re not real,” Pitt replied. “Part of the fake scenery to disguise the inlet.”

A few seconds later, the ship charged into the decoys. There was no jarring collision. Instead the Adelaide sailed smoothly through. Out the side window, Dirk saw an overturned Styrofoam rock gently float away.

Clear of the inlet, the Adelaide charged into the open waters of Gatun Lake. A large crane ship was crossing the canal to the north, while a pair of tankers and a containership were headed around a bend to the south. Pitt stepped to the helm and dialed up the ship’s throttle controls to full.

“Not going back for the others?” Dirk asked.

Pitt gave a steely gaze toward the containership vanishing around the channel ahead.

“No,” he said. “We have a ship to catch.”

Chapter 71

71

BOLCKE STOOD PEERING OUT THE REAR BRIDGE WINDOW. Billows of black smoke from the site of his hidden facility painted the horizon. It was destroyed, he knew, because of the escaped prisoner, the one who had tossed the smoke grenade onto his front steps.