Jenny had to give the guy credit. He was one cold fish. Even in their current straits, his mission was his first priority.

Matt continued to watch over them, eyes sweeping all around. “The shooting…I think it’s slowing…”

Jenny realized he was right. She cradled the boy. The gunfire had died to sporadic bursts.

Over by the central shaft, the two guards stirred. One yelled back to them. “Friendlies coming up!”

A pair of Delta Force team members clambered up the steps. They led a Russian soldier, hands on top of his head, at gunpoint. A young man, no older than eighteen, he blinked at the blood that ran down his face. Soot covered his clothes.

One of his captors snapped at him in Russian. He dropped to his knees. The other came to report to Craig. “They’re surrendering. We’ve another two prisoners on Level Three.”

“And the others?”

“Dead.” The soldier glanced back to the stairwell. The gunfire had ended. “We cleared all the tiers, except for Level Four. Men are sweeping it now.”

“What about Admiral Petkov?” Matt asked.

The man nudged the prisoner. Weak with terror and loss of blood, he fell on his side, afraid even to lower his hands to catch himself. “He says that the admiral fled into Level Four. But so far, we’ve not found him. The prisoner might be lying. He may need a little encouragement.”

Before the matter could be addressed, Sergeant Conrad approached from his examination of the nuclear bomb.

Craig turned his full attention toward the man. “Well?”

The soldier shook his head. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. As far as I can tell, it’s a low-yield nuclear device. Minimal radiation risk. But it’s certainly no standard bomb. I’m guessing more of a disrupter of some type. Like the EM-pulse weapons under development. The explosive capability is small for a nuclear weapon, but its energy could generate a massive pulse. But I don’t think it’s an electromagnetic pulse. Something else. I don’t know what.”

Matt interrupted his report. “You said the explosion would be small. That’s the part I want to know about. How small?”

He was answered with a shrug. “Small for a nuclear device. But it’ll crack this island like a hard-boiled egg. If it blows, we’re all dead, no matter what pulse it sends out.”

“Can you deactivate it?”

The sergeant shook his head. “The trigger is based on subsonics. It’s tied to an external detonator. Unless we can get the abort code to turn this thing off, this baby’s going to blow in”—he checked his watch—“in fifty-five minutes.”

Craig rubbed his left temple. “Then we need to find the admiral. He’s our only chance.” His gaze settled on the frightened youth at his feet. He nodded to the soldier who had kicked the man. “Find out what he knows.”

The prisoner must have understood. He babbled in Russian, terrified, his hands still on his head.

Matt stepped between the prisoner and the soldier. “Don’t bother. I can find Petkov. I know where he must be holed up.”

Craig turned to him. “Where?”

“Down on Level Four. I’ll have to show you.”

Craig narrowed his eyes, glancing between the youth and the shaft. “All right. I doubt this fellow knows anything anyway.” He pulled out his pistol and shot the man in the head.

The retort was loud in the silent station. Skull, brains, and blood splattered across the floor.

“Jesus Christ!” Matt yelled, stumbling back as the blast echo died. “Why did you do that?”

Craig’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play me for a fool, Matt. You know why.” He headed toward the shaft, waving for a pair of soldiers to flank him. “It’s either us or them. Pick sides and let’s go.”

Matt remained frozen but stared toward Jenny, who had twisted from the body, shielding the boy.

The gunshot had sent the boy into another bout of wailing. Jenny held him tightly.

Matt stepped over and leaned down, hugging them both. “Go,” she whispered, defying her own heart’s desire. She wanted him to stay with them. “But watch your back.”

A small nod. He understood her. The biggest danger right now was the bomb. Once that was nullified, they’d find some way to survive both the Russians and the Delta Force strike team.

Matt stood, shouldering his rifle.

Jenny closed her eyes, not wanting to see him leave. But as he stepped away, she opened her eyes. She watched his every movement: the set of his shoulders, the length of his stride. She drank him in, not knowing if she’d ever see him again, regretting the waste of bitter years.

Then they were gone. Two guards watched the shaft. Otherwise she was alone with the gently sobbing boy. She comforted him, as she had not been able to comfort Tyler. She ran fingers through his hair, whispered wordless sounds to soothe.

Across the way, the two guards by the stairs talked softly together. There was no more gunfire, no more explosions. Smoke still hazed the level. Through the oily fog, the lone beacon still shone, beating like a titanium heart, counting down.

As she cradled the boy, a voice whispered behind her, ghostly and vague. She was not even sure she heard it. Then her name was spoken.

“Jenny…can you hear me?”

She cautiously glanced behind her. She did not recognize the voice. It came from an overturned set of electronics.

“Jenny, it’s Captain Perry of the Polar Sentinel .”

8:32 P.M.

USS POLAR SENTINEL

Perry stood in the communication shack by the bridge. He spoke into the UQC underwater telephone. “If you can hear me, move toward the sound of my voice.”

As he waited, he switched to the shipboard intercom. He hailed the Cyclops chamber. “John, can Amanda see Jenny on the monitor? Is your daughter responding?”

A short pause, then an answer came through. “Yes!” He heard a father’s hope in the man’s voice.

For the past five minutes, they had waited, spying with the DeepEye until Jenny was alone. Earlier, Perry had eavesdropped on communication between the station and the Drakon through the underwater phone. He had hoped the rubber landline that draped into the ocean had not been severed by the blast.

“Jenny, we can see you with our sonar. Is there any way you can transmit? There should be a receiver. Just like an old-fashioned phone. If you find it, simply talk into it.”

Perry waited, praying. He didn’t know what help they could offer, but he needed to know the situation in the station to formulate a plan.




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