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THE LINE WENT SLACK IN PITT’S HAND AFTER HIS short aquatic sled ride. Catching his breath, he watched Bolcke speed across the lake.
He’d been pulled just a short distance into Miraflores Lake. At the shoreline a few yards away was a landing with a moored boat. Pitt swam toward the boat and reached it in short order. It was a small auxiliary tugboat used by the Canal Authority to supplement the operating tugs used to maneuver large ships.
Pitt pulled himself aboard and quietly untied the mooring lines, then made his way to the wheelhouse. He started the engine and pulled away from shore, oblivious to the standby crew who were busy assisting with the lock operations. As he turned into the lake, he pushed the tug to top speed as it passed a large object floating in the water. It was the body of Pablo, crushed and mangled from his death ride through the drainage culverts.
The tug was no match for Bolcke’s crew boat, but it didn’t have to be. Miraflores Lake was small, just over a mile long. Bolcke couldn’t escape from view, and if he wished to flee on the crew boat, he would have to pass through another series of locks. Following a half mile behind, Pitt soon realized that wasn’t Bolcke’s plan.
The crew boat pulled alongside a large freighter idling on the lake and waited for its accommodation ladder to be lowered. Two armed men with Asian features descended the ladder and pulled the boat alongside. Bolcke handed one of the men the bin containing the Sea Arrow’s plans, then stepped off the boat.
Approaching from its stern, Pitt saw that the black-hulled freighter was named the Santa Rita, ported out of Guam. The men were halfway up the ladder when Pitt barreled alongside in the tug.
Spotting Pitt in the wheelhouse, Bolcke stared at him as if he were a ghost. He spoke quickly to the gunmen.
The man carrying the bin raced to the top of the ladder, but the second gunman stopped and aimed his weapon. He studied the tugboat with a cautious eye and fired a warning burst ahead of it. Then he swung the gun toward Pitt in the wheelhouse. Pitt heeded the message, turning away from the side of the freighter and motoring on ahead.
Zhou approached the deck rail as Bolcke climbed aboard. “Welcome,” Zhou said with faint emotion.
Bolcke stood wild-eyed, catching his breath after climbing the steps. “My ship was rammed and sunk, my facility attacked and destroyed. We have lost the motor, and my assistant Pablo was killed. But I escaped with the supercavitation plans. They are worth more than the motor.”
Zhou stared at the Austrian, relieved that he was not a suspect in the destruction of his complex. But the loss of the Sea Arrow’s motor was a failure, even with receipt of the plans. “This changes our agreement.”
Of course. But we can discuss it later. We need to clear the Miraflores Locks at once.”
Zhou nodded. “We are next in line to make the transit. Who was that in the tugboat?”
Bolcke looked at the tugboat receding in the distance. “Just a nuisance. He can’t stop us now.”