Kill Decision(147)

McKinney watched one doing just that. “Those look like larger versions of the human-hunters we faced in Colorado.” She noticed the twin gun barrels bolted into the frame. “These gas masks might not be helping us much. We’re still exhaling. It probably requires a lot of pheromone to overcome the aggression score we’re receiving from our other chemical signatures.”

Odin motioned for them to keep moving. “Then let’s speed up.”

McKinney and Foxy followed toward the edge of the container field over the backs of winged drones.

Odin keyed his radio and shouted, “TOC, this is Safari-One-Six actual. What’s your status?”

There was a pause, and then the sound of engines roaring and staccato gunfire came in over the radio. “Our status is that they’re cutting up the ship like we’re not even on it. We’re too busy dealing with the hunter-killers to do anything about the hull-cutters. Fire suppression systems kicked in, and the hull’s penetrated in two places. So far the pumps are keeping up.” More gunfire. “How about you? Over.”

Odin looked out to the horizon at the indistinct outline of a ship in the distance. “We need ten more minutes. What’s your current position?”

“About sixteen miles north-northwest of you.”

“If you think the ship can’t make the distance to the Maersk, abort and head out of the colony’s territory.”

“So far we’re holding up. But I copy that. Out.”

They reached the end of the container field and looked at the bridge tower across a thirty-foot-wide chasm. McKinney peered over the edge at an eight-story drop to the ship’s deck and a tangle of machinery.

Odin pointed and shouted over the din of the drone engines, “Crew didn’t get a chance to abandon ship.”

McKinney followed his gaze toward the ship’s bright orange free-fall escape boat. It was suspended, angled downward in its launch chute on the starboard side. The boat was easily forty feet long and fully enclosed.

Foxy nodded. “Bad for them, good for us. But we’re going to have to climb down. This gap is too big to jump, and we don’t have ropes.”

Odin started lowering himself over the side. “The containers have enough cross-braces and handholds for a free climb.” He looked up. “You okay with this, Professor?”

McKinney was already lowering herself down, searching for a leg hold. “I’ve done my share of rock climbing in the field. Let’s do it.”

All three of them started the long climb down, keeping close together and receiving frequent sprays from the pheromone canister. It was already more than two-thirds empty. It took them a good five minutes to descend to deck level.

When they hopped onto the deck, Odin led them toward a watertight door at the base of the massive white-painted steel bridge tower.

Foxy grabbed his arm and pointed to the escape boat a hundred feet to their right. “I’ll get it ready for launch while you redirect the ship.”

“What about the pheromone?”

“That escape boat should be nearly airtight. I’ll probably be safe in there. Just give me another dose for the run over to it.”

Odin glanced at McKinney. “Is he making sense?”

She nodded. “We’ll go through less pheromone, and if the boat’s watertight and he’s quiet, he should be okay.”

Odin nodded to Foxy. “Do it.”

“I’ll be ready to launch when you head down.”

McKinney sprayed him a double dose and watched him race off toward the starboard side.

Odin pulled her along, and in a moment they undid the latch on a waterproof door and entered the stairwell of the tower. McKinney pulled the door closed behind them with a clang. Almost immediately the deafening noise of the drones dropped to a tolerable level.

“God, that sound is from hell.” She gazed up the stairwell.

“There’s an elevator, but I don’t think we should risk it.” Odin smeared partially dried blood with the toe of his boot. The trail of blood led into the elevator lobby. He drew his pistol and motioned for her to follow him up the stairs.

Since they were both physically fit, they made quick work of the eight-story climb, and could now hear the penetrating hum of the drone engines return, along with a salt-laden breeze. Odin climbed the last stretch of stairs warily, with McKinney close behind. They emerged near the center of the ship’s bridge and could see the entire place was spattered with blood, broken glass, and bullet holes. A dozen small quadracopter drones and an even greater number of wire-cutter drones moved in and out of the control room through the blasted-out windows. A twenty-mile-an-hour wind was blowing through it, sending loose papers flying.