Chapter Thirty-Four

The sixty-foot powerboat lunged forward again, the prow lifting even higher from the river.

Ryan fired three more times, believing he hit the outboard engine at least twice. It ruptured, catching fire in a small explosion. But the gasoline spread, pooling in the bottom of the boat and catching fire, as well. The pirates broke ranks and evacuated the boat, diving into the water.

The one-eyed man yelled a warning to Jak, Dean and the Foundation men, sending them to cover, then he doubled over and butted into the padded console of the vessel himself.

The impact screamed as Fiberglas slammed against Fiberglas and shuddered through the sixty-foot powerboat. The collision also hammered Ryan against the console. Despite the padding, the wind left his lungs, and his face smashed into something hard and unyielding. He tasted blood, felt a tooth loose in its socket.

Then they shot past the blockade.

Looking back, Ryan saw the twisted wreckage of two boats in their wake, one of them in flames. The other boats in the blockade created a trap for the remaining craft trying to get out of the harbor.

Donovan joined Ryan and J.B. on the flying deck. "We didn't put as many of them down as we'd hoped," the Foundation man said.

"Mebbe we got enough," Ryan replied. "We'll see how things go up ahead." The trap with the six machine-gun-outfitted boats waited around the second lazy curve of the river.

For now they had the jump on the pirates, and the sixty-foot powerboat had more speed than Ryan had hoped. He retreated down the ladder to the stern to help defend against the front line of the pursuing pirates.

GLANCING AHEAD as they rounded the second curve of the S, Ryan saw the tattered green shirt flying from an oar on the east side of the river. He lifted the Steyr and fired off three rounds, signaling the shore teams to get the first phase of the trap ready.

Ryan had chosen the spot when he'd first seen it. Leafy trees hung low, out over the river, providing plenty of cover for anyone coming from the north against the current. Three of the boats occupied either side of the river, their motors running.

After the sixty-foot powerboat rushed through the area, a span of fishing net lifted in the water. The net held remote-controlled plas-ex packs J.B. had put together from supplies the Foundation people had back at the dam site. One of the Foundation sec men in the six boats held the remote control in case Ryan and the others hadn't made it back out.

The first pirate water bike hit the net and instantly got tangled up. It flipped end over end, spilling the rider into the river. Two more rammed into the net, as well, with the same results. The fourth water bike managed to curve away in an effort that left a white roil of water in a semicircle that washed through the fishing net.

The first boat crashed through the net, tearing it free, pulling it along.

"Open fire!" Ryan roared. Even though the range wasn't the best, and the uneven jarring of the flagship's deck made marksmanship impossible, they laid down a heavy firezone, burning through ammo. The noise of the attack, with the gunshots rolling over the flat planes of the river, covered the sounds of the machine guns mounted on the Foundation powerboats when they started firing.

Caught in a vicious cross fire between the .50-caliber machine guns, the pirate boats became confused, bumping into one another. Even more confusion ripped through their ranks when the remote-controlled plas-ex blew.

Giant spumes of white water twisted high into the air over the group of pirates with enough explosive force to twist the water into a brief tsunami. Several of the craft turned over or submerged. Three of the boats and two of the water bikes were caught outright and destroyed in the string of explosions that went off in a prolonged sequence.

Before they recovered, the six Foundation powerboats sped on either side of them. The big .50-caliber machine guns opened fire in sustained bursts. The heavy bullets raked the pirates' craft, ripping them to shreds.

The six boats with Ryan's team engaged the stalled attack effort and continued the blistering .50-caliber fire. A secondary wave of explosions erupted as the smaller packages J.B. had constructed blew, even more damaging than the first. The first wave of explosions had scattered the secondary ones in a wide circumference, some of them landing in the pirate boats.

"That's worked out well," Donovan said to Ryan, shouting to be heard above the carnage.

"Hasn't stopped all of them," Ryan pointed out.

And it was true. Though the river was filled and bottle-necked by stricken boats and water bikes, the pirates were already working to get through the area.

"It'll take them a while to get their courage up," Ryan said.

"But they'll follow us?" Donovan asked.

"No doubt about that. You took the space-station section back and killed a lot of them. If Barbarossa is as interested in building his private navy as you say he is, he can't afford to take this kind of beating without getting his pound of flesh back."

Donovan glanced back at the twisted wrecks and the roiling water of the Jefferson River. "Used up a lot of our stashed plas-ex. Going to have to hump a fresh load in from the Foundation."

Ryan showed the man a thin grin. "I think you can tell whoever runs the Foundation that it was well spent." He reloaded the Steyr, watching as the six Foundation powerboats pulled up alongside the flagship.

"Going to be a big race back to the dam, isn't it, Dad?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Ryan said. "And even going at full speed, it's going to take over an hour to reach it." He squinted against the rising morning sun, at the sparkling water spread out over the river. He knew before the sun set again there'd be a lot more bodies piled up and waiting for the last train to the coast.

SEVENTY-EIGHT MINUTES LATER by Ryan's chron, J.B. piloted the pirates' flagship into the mouth of the narrow canyon leading to the oversize cistern the Foundation people used as a base. The Armorer kept the power on full ahead, skimming across the water as the diesels pushed them toward their final destination.

Ryan stood with difficulty on his wounded leg, which throbbed now, and had started to swell from all the damage and stress. Days were going to pass before he felt anywhere near normal again. His other wounds were dull aches.

The pirates maintained the distance, swapping occasional shots with the Foundation boats. Donovan had lost three more men, and Dean had gotten nicked along the left thigh.

Ryan stood now with J.B. on the flying deck. He managed the Steyr with greater ease. Aiming on the crest of the waves, even as fast as they came at the speed they traveled, had become easier.

The pirates had learned to stay back, and J.B. had offered the opinion that they were assuming the role of hounds in a long and arduous chase. They intended to run the Foundation boats to ground and kill everyone aboard.

When they entered the narrow canyon, the pirates struggled to form a single line. They also got braver, thinking the race was almost run.

Ryan hung on to the railing and braced the Steyr against his shoulder. He fired three rounds, all of them coring the lead boat behind them. Sparks jumped from the powerboat's metal trim, and the boat pilot tried a defensive maneuver.

The wake left by the flagship and the six Foundation powerboats slopped up high on the sides of the canyon. Hitting the wake wrong, already trying to overcontrol his craft, the boat pilot slammed the powerboat into the side of the canyon. The hull ripped out of her, spilling her passengers into the river. They promptly got hit by the boats behind.

Ryan glanced ahead again just as the pirate flagship roared through the canyon into the broad expanse of the cistern. He glanced along the top of the canyon, spotting the Foundation people on the edge around the dam. Donovan had judged it to be the safest place.

J.B. only geared the throttles down at the last minute.

Even then the flagship roared up onto the rocky ledge where the Foundation people had made their campsite.

"Hold on!" J.B. shouted in warning.

Ryan gripped the railing as the hull ripped out from under the big boat. It listed, turning over on its side. The one-eyed man forced himself to his feet, standing on the console as the boat slid sideways.

When the flagship came to its final rest, the prow caved in where it struck a huge boulder. Ryan vaulted onto the rocky ledge in time to watch the other six powerboats race to shore, as well.

"Get your asses over here!" Donovan roared, waving to the teams.

Two men stayed with each boat, taking the .50-caliber machine guns loose from the side rails. The extra men from each group raced over to the pirate flagship. Men atop the dam lowered a huge fishing net with attached cargo hooks. Donovan and some of the men climbed into the sixty-footer's belowdecks with the hooks and nets, attempting to salvage the piece of space station.

Ryan and J.B. set up a firezone, then liberated disposable LAWs they'd found inside the redoubt.

The pirates showed up minutes later, obviously delayed by the boat Ryan had shot up. By that time, Donovan and his men had freed the space-station piece from the flagship. The Foundation man shouted up the side of the dam, and men above began hauling up the cargo net.

"I've got the first shot," J.B. stated quietly.

"Go," Ryan said.

The Armorer waited only a little longer, then he fired the LAW. The 94 mm warhead sped just over the top of the cistern water and collided with the second boat back in the cluster that had spotted the rocky ledge.

The resulting explosion took out three boats and threw a wave of fire over the others. Confusion swept the pirates ranks.

"Get those people up the dam," Ryan ordered Donovan.

The Foundation man and his teams wasted no time in scaling the rope ladders that had been thrown from the top of the dam. Ryan ordered Jak and Dean to go next.

Shouldering the tube-shaped weapon, Ryan fired it at the largest cluster of pirate boats he saw. The impact threw fiery remnants into the air. He didn't wait to see any more, sprinting for the nearest rope ladder, with J.B. at his side.

As he made his way up the dam, half dragged and half climbing, he saw the pirate boats get organized again. Given how many he spotted, he knew the ones they'd seen in the small harbor earlier hadn't been all of them. Barbarossa had evidently split his forces. Forty, maybe fifty watercraft had crowded into the cistern.

Just over halfway up the dam, Ryan told Donovan to blow the canyon walls on the other side of the cistern. The man hesitated only a moment, looking down and obviously thinking Ryan and J.B. weren't going to make it. His voice was ripped away by the wind, but the instant detonations behind Ryan told him the command had been given.

Glancing over his shoulder, Ryan watched a mass of rock slide into the canyon that bottlenecked the cistern. In seconds, the thunderous mass blocked the canyon, sealing off the pirates who were inside from the ones who hadn't made it Ryan knew there had to have been only a few of them who hadn't come into the killing zone.

Less than thirty feet remained to be climbed to the top of the dam. Ryan shouted at Donovan to blow the dam.

There was no hesitation at all this time.

The dam blew in an earthshaking explosion, releasing a thundering cascade of water that leaped out into the cistern like a live thing. It surged over the pirate vessels, smashing and overturning them as if they were a child's toys.

Without warning, a part of the wall of water draining into the cistern whipped over, giving testimony to how much pressure the dam had actually held back. The cascade nearly ripped Ryan from the rope ladder. He clung to it, his shoulder screaming, feeling the rope burn his palms as it slid through his hands.

Then the water was gone, joining the rush that continued to spill from the broken dam.

Ryan took a deep breath and finished climbing, joining Krysty at the top of the dam.

The beautiful redhead rushed to him, holding him tight in spite of the wet clothing. "Thought for a minute there I'd lost you, lover."

Ryan shook his head. "Not yet." He peered down into the cistern, watching the water pour over the pirates.

At first, the Foundation people had cheered the destruction of their enemies. But watching the avalanche of water pull the pirates under so effortlessly gave them all pause.

Even Ryan, as inured as he was to the toll exacted by Deathlands, felt a chill that wasn't the cause of the water drenching him.

As the cistern filled, it flooded into the four canyons at the side, at least one of them running into the hidden water reserves of the Foundation.

Ryan suspected there'd be few survivors. He didn't wait to see. There was definitely not going to be any pursuit.

He approached Donovan. "Fulfilled my part of the bargain. Time to handle your end."