Goliath

David activates a keypad atop his work desk, unlocking the top drawer. He removes the semiautomatic pistol, then verifies that the gun is loaded.

Gunnar exits the starboard wing’s corridor and peeks around the main passageway of upper deck forward. Deserted. Find Rocky, then get to the hangar …

He heads aft. As he approaches the galley, David steps out into the corridor to confront him, gun drawn.

“That’s far enough. Hands above your head where I can see them.”

Gunnar eyes the weapon, measuring distances. “Are you going to kill me, David?”

David aims the gun and fires.

Gunnar yells in pain as he drops to his knees, clutching his thigh. Blood gushes from a hole in his right quadriceps.

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

Gunnar looks up at his former friend. “And Simon? Have you killed him?”

“This isn’t the time for twenty questions. Up you go, back in your state-room.

Gunnar stands, hobbling aft down the corridor, his flesh wound gushing.

They pass Rocky’s stateroom.

WARNING: COMMANDER JACKSON HAS FREED THE HINGES—

The stateroom door flies out from its doorframe and collapses against David’s right shoulder, knocking him off-balance.

Gunnar slaps the gun free, then slams his elbow into David’s face, sending him flying backward against the far wall.

The gun clanks onto the deck. Rocky grabs it, pressing it against David’s forehead. “Time to die, asshole.”

“Rocky, wait!” Gunnar grabs her arm. “We’ll need him to get to the hangar.”

She grits her teeth in frustration, then notices Gunnar’s wound. “Take off your belt and give it to Gunnar.”

David stands. Removes the belt.

Gunnar wraps it around his thigh and tightens it, the pressure slowing the bleeding.

“Now move it, down the corridor.” She presses the gun to the back of his head, forcing him down the passageway.

Gunnar climbs down the ladder to central deck forward, the deck dedicated to the computer’s double-hulled compartment. The solid steel vault door looks impenetrable.

“Gunnar, wait.” Rocky presses the gun to David’s throat. “Open the vault.”

“You’re wasting your time,” says David.

“The only thing I’ll be wasting is a bullet. Now open it.”

“Sorceress, open your computer vault. Authorization Paniagua-two, tango-omega six-seven-six-six-alpha—zulu.”

AUTHORIZATION CODE VERIFIED. VOICE IDENTIFICATION VERIFIED. ACCESS DENIED.

“Told you.” David smirks.

Rocky grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back, pushing the barrel of the gun in his mouth. “I’m sorry, David, I didn’t hear you. Say that again.”

“Rocky, the hangar.” Gunnar wipes blood from his palm, then climbs down the ladder, descending to the lower deck. Limping in pain, he heads aft to the watertight door leading into the hangar bay.

To his surprise, the door yawns open.

Gunnar peers into the gymnasium-size compartment. Mounted to the deck in the center of the hangar are Goliath’s two imposing cranelike limbs.

Situated on skids along the near bulkhead is the minisub prototype. Beneath its carriage, still secured within the Hammerhead’s steel claspers, is the underwater mine.

Rocky pushes David into the hangar. As he stumbles inside, the nearest of the robotic arms lunges at them.

“Back off, Sorceress,” Gunnar orders, “or Commander Jackson will kill him.”

The giant appendage stops advancing, but does not retreat.

YOU WILL NOT BE PERMITTED TO ESCAPE.

A bead of sweat rolls down Gunnar’s face. He knows the computer is measuring distances and reaction time, that the only thing preventing Goliath’s pincers from tearing off his head is Rocky’s index finger on the gun’s trigger, the barrel now pressed firmly against David’s throat.

“Instruct Sorceress to open minisub bay one.” Rocky orders, pushing the weapon deeper into David’s flesh.

“You’ll never make it.”

“Just do it.”

David glances up at the scarlet eyeball mounted high above their heads. “Sorceress, open bay one.”

The rectangular hatch parts in the middle, each section of steel retracting out of sight beneath the decking. Resting on skids within the docking berth below is a sleek, twelve-foot-long, hammerhead-shaped minisub.

“If I die, at least one of you will, too,” David says. “Let me go, and Sorceress will spare your lives.”

“Shut up,” Rocky says. “Gunnar, I can’t drive these things, you have to do this.”

The closest of the two mechanical appendages creeps closer.

“Rocky, if that arm moves any closer, I want you to blow David’s head off.”

“With pleasure.” She pulls the gun’s hammer back with her thumb.

“Sorceress, stay back!” David orders, his bravado suddenly disappearing.

Gunnar descends the ladder into the small docking bay, his pants leg dripping blood. “Sorceress, open the dorsal hatch on Hammerhead-1.”

The dorsal fin assembly pops up, then rotates clockwise with a hiss.

The two Kurd brothers enter the hangar, their assault rifles drawn. “Let him go.”

Rocky holds her ground. “Stay back or he dies! Come on, Gunnar, move—”