Description: Chapter 1 One hundred miles northeast of Taiwan Present day The Canberra Swift sailed through the night, heading north from Taiwan. She was a midsized cargo vessel, with a high beltline and an aerodynamic shell covering the front half of the ship. Her bridge emerged from this shell near the middle of the ship, while twin funnels, raked sharply backward, extended aft. A leading nautical magazine described her as unattractive in nautical terms, suggesting a Japanese bullet train and seagoing ferry had borne a child together. But the strange shape had a purpose. The ship had been designed to carry oversize cargo in a roll on/roll off configuration, much like a ferry. Freight and equipment were loaded on the ship at the stern, using a ramp wide enough to accommodate six lanes of traffic. It would be parked or stored inside, in a vast, unbroken cargo hold that ran the length of the main deck from bow to stern. Upon reaching its destination, the cargo was simply driven forward and off the ship on another ramp at the front. Because of her size, shape and speed, the Swift had been used to transport everything from the fuselage sections of large aircraft, to rocket parts, and even nuclear waste, which traveled in sealed, lead-lined containers. If a war ever broke out, she was already committed by an option contract to be pressed into service carrying oversize military equipment to bases near whatever combat zone arose. Jobs like these fell to the Swift , not only because she''d been designed to carry unique cargoes but also because--as the name implied--the Swift was one of the fastest cargo ships ever built. She could make forty knots in a sprint and travel at thirty-five all day long. She could cross the Pacific in seven days, a third of the time required for the average containership. Standing on the bridge, the Swift ''s captain studied the radar. There were no vessels near enough to be a bother. "All ahead full," he ordered. "There''s a storm heading down the Canadian coast from Alaska and I''d very much like to beat it to San Francisco Bay." The helmsman acknowledged the order and, using the computer panel in front of him, ordered the gas turbine engines to maximum output. With the engine room answering, the captain was satisfied. He turned to the first officer. "The ship is yours. I''ll be in my quarters if you need me." The first officer nodded as the captain left the bridge. Expecting a peaceful night, he took a seat in the command chair as the Swift put on more speed. *** Clinging to the outside of the ship with magnetic hand and knee pads, Teng Kung-lu, known to his men as Lucas, did not appreciate the additional speed in quite the same way. The electromagnetic force holding him in place was substantial, but every additional bit of velocity increased the gusting slipstream that threatened to break the magnets'' grip. He pulled himself close to the hull, doing all he could to prevent the air from getting between him and the ship. Turning his face away from the wind, he looked to the side and down. The eight men of his team were doing as he was, clinging to the ship like barnacles. Each of them dressed in black, their submachine guns held tight under Velcro flaps. He could see the strain in their arms and the tension in their faces, as this part of the heist had gone on far longer than intended. Looking up, he counted the seconds until finally the main lights of the ship went dark. Third watch had begun. Using his thumb, he triggered a pinpoint light in the magnetic pad under his left hand. Three dots constituted an order to begin climbing again. They needed to get up and inside before the wind blew them off the hull. With his right thumb, he pressed down on a button connected to the gauntlet wrapped around his right arm. It disabled the power on that magnet, allowing him to pull it from the hull and move it upward. Stretching as far as he could, he released the button. The electromagnet switched on instantly and his arm was pulled back to the steel plate, where it locked into position. Pressing a second button, he was able to move his right leg upward. He then repeated the procedure on the left side, slowly but surely crawling toward an awaiting hatch. His men did the same, following him up. A trail of human ants, heading for the sugar inside the ship. Reaching the hatch, he risked detaching his left hand long enough to pound on the metal plating. Nothing happened. He hammered it harder, using the metal part of the gauntlet to elicit a metallic clang. This time he heard something, a latch releasing, a wheel-which was sometimes called a dog-spinning inside. Thank god , Lucas thought. The hatch, large enough to set a gangplank on and load ship''s stores, swung inward as it opened. A crewman wearing the shipping line''s uniform appeared. He had black hair with an odd white streak down the middle. He made eye contact and offered a gloved hand. Lucas took it, released the other magnets and was pulled inside. The crewman moved back into the shadows as Lucas helped his men through the hatch and into the shelter of the small compartment. All went well until the last man. The man disengaged his magnets a moment too soon. His leg slipped and he dropped. Lunging forward, Lucas grabbed the strap of the submachine gun. The weapon wedged up under the man''s shoulder and held tight, even as Lucas was pulled to the deck and nearly dragged out the hatch. "Callum!" Lucas shouted. Despite their Chinese ethnicity, the members of the group chose Western names when they joined. Each knew the other by no other name, so that in the event of capture they could not give up any of their comrades. "Reengage!" Lucas shouted. "Use the couplers." Realizing that Callum was frozen with fear and concerned that he might be pulled over the edge, Lucas engaged his own magnetic system and locked himself to the deck. "Climb over me," he shouted. The man looked up. "Hurry," Lucas said, "before you pull my arm out of the socket." With several of the other men now crowding around to assist, Callum pulled himself up using Lucas like a rope ladder. As soon as they could reach him, Callum''s comrades grabbed him and hauled him inside. Lucas relaxed and disengaged the magnets, pushing back from the edge. Callum offered a hand and helped him to his feet. Rubbing his shoulder and stretching, Lucas moved closer to Callum. "That was foolish," he said, glaring at the man who''d almost fallen. "Get sloppy again and I''ll let you die." The words were harsh, but the men knew better. Lucas was the leader of a band of brothers, pirates who looked after their own. Unlike the famous pirate code of old, Lucas had never left a man behind. Callum dropped his head and looked away, ashamed. As he stepped back, Lucas turned to the man who''d let them in. "You were late." "Couldn''t be helped," the crewman said. "The captain stayed on watch thirty minutes later than usual. He''s gone to bed now." Lucas nodded. "Anything else we should know?" The crewman shook his head. "The security systems are disabled. You should have no problem getting into the engine room or the communications suite." "Good," Lucas said. He sent three men to the engine room and two others to the communications center, where the satellite receivers, multiband radios and controls for the various automatic beacons lay. Turning to the Swift ''s crewman, he made a change. "Take one of my men and go to the captain''s quarters. Wake the old man up and bring him to me." "I thought you''d want me to lead you to the bridge," the crewman replied. "That, we can find on our own." The various groups left the compartment, heading in opposite directions. Lucas took Callum with him. They went forward toward the nearest stairwell. Moving calmly, Lucas raised the Velcro flap covering his belly. Without breaking stride, he removed a QCW-05 submachine gun that was strapped diagonally across his chest. He slung it into place and screwed a cylindrical compressor into the barrel. The Chinese QCW fired a subsonic 5.8mm round made of hardened steel instead of soft lead. It was compact and well suited for close quarters combat. The shell could punch through a quarter-inch steel plate. Lucas had trained his men to use them to lethal effect, but if things went as planned, they wouldn''t have to fire a single shot. Reaching the bridge, they found the Swift ''s first officer and a pair of crewmen at the helm. Avoiding the theatrics of bursting into the compartment shouting threats, Lucas stepped quietly over the threshold, clearing his throat to get everyone''s attention. The men on the bridge reacted with glacial speed. Their collective surprise at the appearance of armed men in commando gear was so complete that they froze in confusion. "Get down on the deck," Lucas said calmly, "if you''d rather not be shot to pieces." The two crewmen did as ordered. The first officer seemed stuck in his chair. Finally he spoke. "We have cash in the safe," he said, raising his hands, easing out of the seat and dropping to one knee. "It''s unlocked." "Of course it is," Lucas said. The lack of resistance and an unlocked safe were marks of the modern state of piracy.

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