Turn the Tide

by Ruggle, Katie

  After the day she’d had—not to mention the night—she should be completely exhausted. But she wasn’t. She was…revved up, excited. A little scared and out of breath, but also ready. Funny, out of everything she’d imagined in her life, she’d never pictured herself doing this—laying siege to one of her platforms.

  Eric’s head and hand appeared briefly, telling her to follow. She climbed the last few rungs, wondering if she’d have to use the gun he’d made her take. Could she, if she had to?

  She pictured the men who’d hit her and locked her up in that room. Maybe she could hit them, knock them out, but use the gun?

  An image of Sea Lion Bob popped into her head. What if they’d killed him? That thought sent a rush of certainty through her.

  Yeah. I’ll pull the trigger if I need to.

  Without letting herself look down, she cleared the top and was back on the rig.

  It all looked different in the near-dawn light. It felt crowded, more claustrophobic, as if everything had shrunk—as if the red metal piping with valves and nozzles and switches had moved closer, narrowing the already tight walkways. She blinked at a gauge, its glass cracked with what had to be a bullet lodged between the six and seven.

  That bullet had been meant for her. To kill her.

  She swayed and caught herself on a railing. Her heart pounding in her ears, hands cold, face weirdly hot, she was overwhelmed by an attack of nerves, along with a fresh shot of What am I doing here? I shouldn’t have come.

  Shit. I’ll be in the way.

  Her feet had stopped moving, and Von came up beside her. He gave her a thumbs-up, a question on his face.

  Am I okay? Can I do this?

  Eric, who’d moved farther into the rig, caught her eye and came back, while the others spread out and up to cut power and begin their sweeps, every movement sure and silent. Von disappeared up the ladder like a ghost, and even Ans, despite his bulk, climbed with the light, confident grace of a dancer.

  I don’t belong here.

  Close enough to whisper, Eric slid a hand behind her nape. “You okay?”

  “What if I have to kill someone?”

  “You won’t. And you can wait in the boat, if you want to.”

  She hesitated. Did she? She’d been so certain before, but this was way out of her comfort zone. Coming back here, attacking people and maybe hurting them. It made her throat tight and her stomach queasy. But still… “I want to help.”

  “Then stay. I’ve got your back.” He meant it.

  He trusted her. She couldn’t let him down.

  Zoe squared her shoulders. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

  Eric squeezed her nape one last time. After a second’s hesitation, he leaned in and pecked her on the mouth before turning away with a funny little grin.

  When her belly flip-flopped this time, it was from something other than fear.

  They headed silently toward their assigned floor. At the first metal door, Eric stopped to look over what appeared to be a blueprint of the rig for emergency evacuation. After that, he advanced quickly through long, lit corridors. The place was eerily quiet as they walked past the mess hall and an engine room before spotting what was clearly marked as the engine control room. The last place to check on this level.

  Zoe and Eric each stood to one side of the door. He signaled to her to keep back. Breathe in, breathe out. He opened the door, slid inside, and, right on time, the lights went dark.

  Chapter 7

  In the dark, Eric found Zoe’s hand. He pulled her in close to his side, gave her hand a squeeze, and whispered, “Don’t. Move.”

  Through the glass pane of the inner control room door, he could see a flashlight’s arc. Good. The goon wasn’t being the least bit cautious. Eric slid on his night-vision goggles and waited. Three…two…

  The door swung out, and silent as the grave, Eric was on the man. It took exactly six seconds to bring him to the floor, three more to bind his mouth and secure his hands behind his back, and another eight to reappropriate the flashlight and remove his weapons.

  In his headset, a quiet voice intoned.

  “Team two here.” That was Ans and Leo. “Level two is clear. We’ve got a couple scientists and a member of the security team. Heavy tool room. Northwest corner.”

  “Team one,” Eric responded. “One subject. Subdued. Headed your way.”

  “Roger that.”

  No word from Von, which was normal, given that he’d had to climb to the top of the rig and was likely still clearing the upper level.

  “Up,” Eric said as he grabbed their prisoner, pulled him to standing, and looked him over. Not one of the guys he’d encountered yesterday. This one appeared scared shitless in the absolute dark.

  “Who else you got here?” he asked.

  “N-n-nobod—”

  “Try again.”

  “I swear, I’m all—”

  A blow to the solar plexus shut down whatever lie the guy was about to tell. His body sagged, but Eric held him up, not waiting for him to recover.

  “How many more you got on this thing?” Though he’d gotten numbers yesterday, confirmation couldn’t hurt. It would set a baseline, help them figure out if someone was lying.

  “Five,” the man could only whisper. “That’s it.”

  “Give me the rundown.”

  After a second, when the guy clearly decided his health was more important to him than holding back, he talked. “Two researchers. Two other security. But we’re evacuating.”

  “Evacuating?” Eric blinked. “When?”

  “Soon as it’s light.”

  “Why now?”

  “Haven’t found anything.” The guy’s eyes flicked over to where Zoe stood, nearly invisible in the dark. He couldn’t possibly see her clearly, but Eric wouldn’t abide even that minor contact.

  He shifted protectively.

  “And the rig’s deemed too risky. After what happened yesterday.” The man eyed Eric. “Was that you?”

  In his ear, the comm device crackled. “Got the third guard,” Von’s words came in, low and deep. “Headed to heavy tools.”

  Without another word, Eric hauled the goon down the long, dark hall toward the closest ladder, with Zoe right behind him. In absolute silence, they used the goggles to their advantage, giving their prisoner absolutely no information as to where they were going and how many of them there were. He was practically whimpering as Eric pushed him up the ladder to the next floor. It was slow going, but they finally located the heavy tool room, just as Von and his prisoner joined them. Nasal Voice. Good. After what he’d done to Zoe, the asshole hadn’t suffered nearly enough.

  Once inside, Eric took a moment to examine the situation.

  Leo and Ans stood each to one side of their three prisoners, who were facedown on the floor. Eric added his to the group and stopped Von with a signal. They’d question Nasal Voice, right here in the dark, where the others could hear.

  With ruthlessly efficient movements, Von shoved his prisoner against the closest wall. Fucking emotionless son of a bitch. Eric had literally never seen him flinch. Not once. Hadn’t seen him smile either. That kind of ruthlessness always came in handy at times like these.

  “The fuck y’all doin’ out here?” Von snapped. Jesus, when he talked like that, Eric remembered exactly why they called him the Reaper.

  “N-n-n-nothing.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, asshole. I want numbers, locations, and the exact nature of this mission, or—”

  “Or what?” The guy tried to bluff.

  Without hesitation, Von’s hand went low and squeezed. Jesus Christ, the guy might never recover. Eric’s balls climbed up inside him in sympathy, and he stepped back when the asshole fell to the floor, heaving.

  Von turned to the group. “While our friend here recovers, who’s ready to t
alk?” He took a threatening step forward.

  “I will!” one of the prisoners yelled. “I’ll tell you what I know!”

  Ans bent and hauled the man up to standing. He was a fucking cowboy, in snakeskin boots and a bolo tie. A ten-gallon hat glowed like a radioactive-green cow patty a few feet away.

  “Who are you?” Von took up the questioning again, keeping the rest of their team an unknown, intimidating in its mystery.

  “Dr. Abram Carter. I’m a petroleum geologist. Had nothin’ to do with yesterday’s hanky-panky.”

  Hanky-panky? Eric shifted forward while the man droned on, not knowing exactly what he planned to do, besides cut the asshole’s nuts off. For being a part of this shitstorm and minimizing what they’d done to Zoe.

  Von stopped Eric with a hand signal. Shit.

  He stepped back, breathing hard. He’d never been this involved in a mission before, never felt the need to kill like it was personal.

  “Now, what’s a geologist doin’ out here?”

  The man hesitated and looked around before focusing back at Von. He swallowed, tried to talk, cleared his throat, and went again. “Research.”

  “Researching what?” Somehow, Von managed to convey impatience without changing his actual tone. When the guy didn’t immediately respond, he stepped closer to the man. “You’re useless to me if you can’t give me more than that. In fact, I’ll—”

  “Wait! Wait wait wait!” The geologist’s voice was high, frantic. Here we go. “We hoped to find something. In the well. Under it.”

  Eric waited, breath held. “Something?”

  “Look, I’m a geologist, not a—” The man cut himself off and turned to look at one of the dark, silent forms on the floor. “I’m just here to make sure they hit the right stratum.”

  “What about the other scientist?” Zoe interrupted. “What’s she here for?”

  On the floor, the woman stiffened.

  After a long pause, the man spoke hurriedly. “Emily’s a geologist, like me. Look, we don’t know anything. They’ve kept us both in the dark about—”

  Von moved, putting his bulk almost intimately close to the man. “Talk. Now.”

  After a few audible breaths, he complied. “Shit. Okay. It’s a big deal. Major scientific breakthrough.” He shook as he spoke and looked blindly around. “Medical. They say.”

  “Who hired you?”

  “Fuck, man. I’ll lose my job if I—”

  “I’ll squeeze your fucking balls till they pop,” Von whispered in the man’s ear, but every word was audible in the absolute silence. And there wasn’t a man in the room who didn’t feel it.

  “Chronos. Chronos Corp.’s bankrolling this whole thing.” He swallowed, then talked as if nothing could get him to stop. “They’ve sent out a fleet of researchers. Hired more ex-military contractors than I’ve ever seen in one place outside of the, well, the military. Told us to stop everything else. This is it. The next big thing.”

  “And you’ve found it? Whatever they’re looking for?” Zoe broke in, her voice cutting through the dark. “Here?”

  “No.” The man shook his head, begging. “I swear to God, man. They’ve got teams across the world looking for this…thing. We’re leaving today, and then we’re—” He swallowed, looking sick to his stomach. “Shit. You’ve got to let us off this rig.”

  “Why?” Von growled.

  “They’re gonna blow it up. Once we’re off.”

  “Shut up!” one of the prone security guards snarled.

  “No! Are you kiddin’, man? They leave us here, and we’re blowing with this fucker!” The cowboy was freaking out now. It was as if they’d hit a lever and he was spouting. “I’m not dying for Chronos.”

  Eric wasn’t sure exactly when his blood started to go cold, but right now, it felt like ice in his veins. Something was very, very wrong. They needed to go, now.

  Ans had other ideas. He walked around the cowboy, grabbed the first security guy, and yanked him high enough to talk into his ear. “You set the charges on the rig?”

  The security goon’s eyes were wide in the dark. “Yeah.”

  “Where?” Ans asked.

  “All over the place. You’ll never get to them in time.”

  “Why not? They on a timer?”

  “No.”

  Ans shook him, hard enough to rattle his teeth. “Dammit, then who’s got the detonator?”

  “The helicopter pilot.” The goon sounded like he’d run a marathon. “Headed here now.”

  Fuck.

  Zoe grabbed Eric’s arm. “If they blow the rig, the reef… Wait. I want to talk to the other scientist. She knows something.”

  “No.” The woman on the floor shook her head. “No. No, I don’t want to talk to you.”

  This time, it was Leo who bent and grabbed the prisoner. She pulled her up and dragged her the few steps toward Zoe. “All yours,” she said, though she kept a loose hold on the collar of the scientist’s lab coat.

  The woman was young—Eric would have guessed college age, but he wasn’t always good with these things, especially through night-vision goggles. She gulped, looking scared out of her mind.

  “You’re not a geologist, are you?” Zoe sounded so calm. In charge.

  Eric glanced at her, surprised, then watched the other woman.

  “Look, I’m not really supposed to talk about—”

  “Spit it out.” Von played bad cop like a champ. Wasn’t much of a stretch, of course.

  “I signed an NDA. My career could—”

  The ominous metal click of Von pulling back his handgun’s slide worked like a charm.

  “Oh, please don’t kill me,” she whimpered, eyes as big as saucers. She turned in Zoe’s direction. “Don’t let them kill me.”

  “What’s your name?” Zoe asked quietly.

  “Emily Marquette.”

  “Dr. Marquette?” Zoe asked.

  The woman nodded.

  “What do they have you looking for, Doctor?”

  The woman’s eyes made a slow, cautious sweep of the room, though she couldn’t possibly see a thing. “A virus.” The words came out barely voiced—just a sibilant hiss.

  “A virus?” Zoe stood stock-still. “At the bottom of the ocean?”

  “Look, I’m low-level. I don’t get access to the details.”

  “Just tell us what you know.” Zoe was admirably calm. Part of the team.

  Jesus, this woman.

  “It’s just gossip, okay? Not… Nothing solid. They keep us in our own little…silos. Need-to-know only. I only have the vaguest sense of what they’re looking for—just enough to let me search. No idea what they want it for.” She threw a frightened glance around the room. They must seem like ghosts to this woman peering blindly into the dark.

  “What else?” Eric asked with a twinge of discomfort. It was old-fashioned and possibly stupid, but he hated threatening a woman.

  “Oh, geez.” The researcher looked up, as if maybe praying to God. Or to the helicopter they’d said was coming any minute. “There’s a big bonus for the first team that locates a viable specimen.”

  “Have you?”

  “Located it? No.” She sounded disappointed. “Not here.”

  “Has anyone?”

  Her eyes flickered, but she shook her head.

  “Why’d they have you search here?”

  She shrugged, looking off to the side, like maybe she already regretted divulging what she had. Eric was about to move in, but Zoe beat him to it.

  “While you assholes churned up the ground out here, the marine animals that I work with have deserted their natural habitat. Some of them might never come back—might die because of what you did.” He’d never get enough of this woman and her passion. “So I think you need to give us just a little more than that.” />
  “I heard they’ve got a sample.” Emily Marquette shook her head. “Doesn’t make sense to keep up the search if they’ve got what they want, but it’s just a rumor.” She lifted her chin. “Like I said, I’m low-level.”

  Zoe nodded at Eric, who advanced toward the prisoners, leaned down, and grasped Nasal Voice by the wrist. The man’s groan confirmed that he was still hurting from yesterday’s run-in. He bent low and asked, “How many charges are on this rig?”

  “A dozen.” After a second, the man went on. “Pilot’s supposed to set them off.”

  “And if you’re stuck in here? What are the orders then?”

  Nasal Voice was shaking now. “Everything blows.” Emily Marquette visibly started. “Whether we’ve vacated the premises or not.”

  The cowboy geologist opened his mouth and shut it when Eric asked, “How long we got?”

  “Minutes now, at most.”

  Above them, just on schedule, came the telltale thump of the approaching bird.

  ***

  Given her current situation, it seemed wrong that Zoe should feel so very alive. But she couldn’t help it.

  Maybe it was mild hysteria from not getting much sleep, or the much wilder hysteria of her crush on Eric becoming an actual thing. Or, hey, maybe it was taking over an oil platform held by an armed security force. Whatever the case, she felt incredible. Hell, if she’d known it was like this, she might’ve joined the military or become a pirate or something.

  Not really, though, since she was more of a peacenik than anything else.

  Not right now, I’m not.

  Unwilling to condemn their prisoners to possible death, they’d towed them to the top level of the rig and kept them subdued just out of sight of the helipad. Here, they discussed a plan, keeping watch while the helicopter grew from a hazy black dot floating on the horizon to something ominous, spiderlike, and way too close for comfort.