There was much still to do.
A blond man with a scarred face pulled her along carelessly, shoving her every step upward into the ship. She overtook a ladder and walked a passageway, counting doors, men, anything to help. Her PRR wasn’t giving her anything and she didn’t dare utter a syllable, but she refused to imagine Sebastian burning to death in a fireball on the ice. She wasn’t winning that argument.
Outside a cabin door, Blondie stopped. He searched her, opening her parka, taking her cell, then running his hands over her breasts, her waist and hips. She kneed him in the nuts. He buckled. She glared down on him like the bug he was.
He straightened, spoke in Russian, insults or threats, but after today, insults were child’s games. Blondie stared at her for a second, then backhanded her across the face. She hit the wall and fell, her face exploding with burning pain.
“Asshole,” she muttered, rubbing her jaw. Her eyes watered. His smile gave her immediate chills as he grabbed her parka and pulled her off the floor.
“He dies, you die.” He opened the door and threw her inside. The door slammed shut. She sank to the floor as the lock clicked. Okay, she asked for that. She breathed deeply, fighting the chills rippling up her body from her icy toes soaked in arctic seawater. She put her ear against the door, and heard the thump of his retreating footsteps. Moving away, she hunted for something to dry her feet besides the pillowcases and found a drawer of towels. She sat on the bunk, removed her boots and socks, then spent a few minutes chasing away frostbite. She found men’s clothes in the next drawer and went still, glancing around the cabin. The bed was unmade, the leavings of a sandwich on a plate. Beside it was a laptop. It was running.
She turned in a circle. “It’s Noble’s room.”
Then she heard the sweetest sounds.
“Corrigan, I’m going to tan your hide.”
Relief swept through her so hard she dropped to the bed. Tears flooded, sudden and hot. He was alive. “Oh honey, I didn’t know you were into the kinky stuff. That much has changed in fourteen years?”
“Don’t anger them and you’ll find out.”
Too late, she thought, and worked her tongue over her lip. She tasted blood, and looked at the ceiling as if she could see through the decks. The PRR had a five-hundred-meter range. “That Danish soldier?”
“He’s alive, but Ice Harvest has been hit.” She inhaled, her heart feeling the wound. “Sit tight. I’m going out of range, but I won’t lose you.”
“I’m counting on it.” Her throat suddenly hurt and knew she didn’t have long before the Russians learned she had communications. “Either way, this isn’t looking good and if we don’t see each other—”
“Don’t. I’m coming for you. Trust me.” Then nothing.
She sank into the desk chair, her head in her hands. She knew her odds. Nevolin was too dangerous. She’d reached the sub and now possessed nuke-tipped ICBMs. Whatever the hell she was going to do with them was all in her mind, but Moscow had to stop her. MiGs could drop a bomb on this ship and be home for lunch.
What have I done?
Sebastian bailed from the helicopter before the blades stopped.
Marines were already running in three directions, hoping to find the few who were still on the dig. He helped Noble down out of the chopper and smiled when he batted him away.
“Don’t start that. I’m fine. Except for these wet boots.”
“I’ll find you something better.” Despite everything, Sebastian smiled. “It’s good to see you well, cousin.”
Noble’s eyes glossed a bit and he gripped his arm. “I knew you’d come.”
Sebastian suddenly grabbed him in a bear hug, thankful for the chance to do it, then let the old man go. He eyed him. “I have the clearance, you know. You could have told me, in case bad—”
“—bad shit happens. I know.” Noble looked chagrined. “I wanted a taste of the mystery. Some intrigue.”
“Had enough yet?” The black Danish jet flying over head sobered them quickly and he walked around the tail of the chopper.
Noble stopped short. “Oh my.”
Max was there, tying down the aircraft. “It’s not pretty.”
Sebastian secured the chopper with the cables, then looked at the giant section of Ice Harvest that was just gone. He glanced at Noble. “I need to see if it’s safe to go in. Max, my six.” Palming his weapon, he hurried toward the dome. The RPG hit the twisted tunnel, taking it out nearly to the dome and leaving it blackened and melted. The impact smoldered, yet didn’t burn. “Smells like burnt plastic,” he said, working his way past the damage. Icy sleet poured, slapping the dome walls like nails on tile. It froze before it slid to the ground. Going to be a cold night. He holstered his weapon and waved to Noble. He slid in his PRR, tried hailing Riley, and got a Marine who said he wasn’t miked up. “Get him one, A-sap!”
Max walked farther into the impact area, nudging debris with his toe. “I think it took out the dish. It was on the rise behind the tunnel.”
The scaffolding was twisted and collapsing in on itself. The lights were out, but the endless sunrise gave them enough daylight through the yawning hole in the dome’s skin. The dig was deserted, the screens for the lab equipment strangely dark. They got some gear off the ice, he thought, noticing that the black storage cases for the hard drives were gone along with a few pieces of the more valuable lab equipment. He hated to think Olivia would get the blame for this. He inspected the damage. “The electrical lines were here, too. Without that and communications, we’re isolated.”
“I can fix that,” Max said, staring at the framing. “Enough to keep it from collapsing, at least, but it won’t be an entrance anymore.”
Sebastian nodded and Noble moved up beside him, wrapped in thermal blankets. He needed better clothing for the arctic, despite that it was usually only about forty-five degrees around here. The storm was dropping the temperatures.
“I’d only been here once for about two weeks,” Noble said. “Amazing achievement, isn’t it?”
“Oh yeah. So is the dig.” Deeper inside, the darkness shadowed the dig, and Sebastian flipped out a penlight, spying inside the ice cave.
Noble peered cautiously. “Magnificent. Olivia still insist on rappelling down?” Noble glanced, and he nodded. “She’s rather skilled and daring from what Cruz tells me.”
“He hovers like a mother hen.”
“Don’t underestimate the boy. He’s like Olivia’s caution, since the woman doesn’t possess a shred of it.”
In spades, he thought, righting a table. Her heart was in the right place and he knew she blamed herself for Noble’s kidnapping. He didn’t care if she wanted to shoulder the guilt, he just wanted her safe, here, with him. Right now, damn it and he needed the communications running to do it.
Then Riley hailed him. “We’re all right,” he said, and Sebastian felt one burden lift. “The dig area was empty when it hit. I’m trying to jerry-rig the power station and get us some electricity. Tell Max I could use his help.”
He relayed and Max trotted off as Sebastian turned in to the communications room. The area was lit with a million candle watts of light, but the screens were black, the area deserted. “Ross!”
From under the desk, a hand waved. Wires and cables crossed on the rubber floor, and Ross leaned out to unhook one line and reconnect another. “I’m trying to get back with Deep Six.”
“Who else was in here?”
“Aside from the marines and Riley, Cruz is the only one and I don’t know where he is. Dana was about fifteen minutes from the landing strip before all went…” He waved helplessly.
At least they were safe. “First chance, contact Wyatt. Why didn’t you stop her?”
“She was already outside. I didn’t know she was gone till it hit and—” Ross scrambled out from under the desk. “Noble!” He greeted him, and then looked past him. “Where is Doctor Corrigan?”
Sebastian’s lips pulled in a tight line. He should have risked
it and killed them all, he thought bitterly. “Nevolin has her.” Ross paled. “We have to pinpoint that ship right now. There’s three more closing in, all nearly the same size. Either decoys or prepared to receive those missiles. If Moscow is on the ball, they’ll bomb that ship as soon as it reaches international waters.” He couldn’t even hope Russia would use restraint. They’d already gone too far before this started.
Ross’s features pulled tight enough to show his youth and he turned back to his workstation. He made Noble comfortable, then went to find Cruz, overtaking the corridor and down the hall of white cubes. He knocked on each cube as he passed, then stopped short when a door opened. Cruz stuck his dark head out.
“It’s all clear.”
Cruz crumpled a little. “I was standing right here. The blast shut the door. What was it?”
“A rocket-propelled grenade. Noble is in the communications room.” The kid’s smile was brilliant, but it didn’t last long. “Olivia traded places with him. Dress warmer, we won’t have electricity or communication.”
“I do. I was already packed.” He went back into the cube and returned with a big backpack. “The data is already on the mainframe and my computer’s charged.”
He was thankful for small favors. “No dish.”
“Then we’ll have to hit a direct signal.” He flipped out his phone, checking the time. “Two hours and we’re out of range. I’ll see what I can do.” Cruz rushed toward comms as Riley responded, and came around the corner.
“All accounted for. We were at the other end when it hit, but we saw it coming.” He grabbed his shoulder, smiling. Three Marines trotted past with materials to stabilize the torn dome.
“Sirius soldiers have wounded and are coming here. I need to refuel and get back out till we have the ship tracked.” The Northern Lion was likely at full speed and without a drone, they were blind. They returned to the communications room. Cables and wires crisscrossed the rubber floor. Ross was on his knees, soldering something.
Cruz was at his computer. “It’s my personal computer. They might not answer the knock.”
Ross joined him to input the classified codes for Deep Six. “They will now.”
Sebastian strode to the locker and opened it. Pistols and hand radios were racked in a line, and he handed them out.
Cruz waved off the pistol. “I was hired for this.” He pointed to his laptop. “I’d shoot my foot off.”
Sebastian scoffed. “I wasn’t giving you one.” He reached past him to Noble. His friend loaded it, kept the safety on, and shoved it in his pocket.
Then over his PRR he heard, “Tango One to Tango Leader, Danes with wounded,” from Esposito.
“I’m waiting to play doctor,” Max said. “Direct them to the infirmary.”
Sebastian left the room, and stopped at his cube to add a layer of clothing before he went to the power station. It took an hour to move barrels and refuel the chopper, but he had to put his impatience on hold. They needed to secure everything, then free up the cubes for quarters. Survival first, he thought, listening to the Marine chatter. At the top of the dome, Lewis, his point man, had the Northern Lion in his sights. He trekked across the ice to the chopper and knew he wouldn’t get off the ground.
The freezing sleet on the blades would drop the chopper out of the sky, and the battery heater was vapor. If he could push the damn thing inside the dome, he would. The Marines collapsed some of the frame, and with a lot of duct tape and a few tools, they managed to seal the hole enough to stop most of the wind from pulling it apart. He hunted down a compressor used to operate the melting system and, with a Marine, rigged it to keep the chopper battery warm, but unless the weather changed, he wasn’t going anywhere. Sleet was coming down harder.
He returned to the communications room. Riley was moving cables with Ross. Noble sat in an isolated corner, but it was his hand that got his attention. Crudely wrapped, the bandages were bloodstained. He grabbed a small medical kit from a steel cabinet and crossed to him. “Kolbash do that?” He laid out supplies.
Noble shook his head. “Nevolin, and that’s after I agreed to help her. Bluffing, of course. But she kept the digit. Disgusting woman.”
He went still, another bolt of fear lacing through him. What was Olivia suffering? Then his oldest friend reached out, gripped his arm.
“She’s strong. She’ll survive.”
Kolbash had already killed for Nevolin. If the witch wants it, Olivia would be tossed overboard. The thought crippled him, and he was desperate for all his training to kick in and stay focused. He cut the old bandages free and cleaned the wound, bringing Noble up to speed as quickly as he could on how Dragon One’s last operation in Chechnya was Nevolin’s handiwork.
He was nearly finished dressing it when Noble said quietly, “Olivia knew you were hurt in Singapore.” His gaze flicked up. “I could tell it was killing her not to ask, but I’d made such a righteous stink about protecting your privacy, I couldn’t go back on our agreement.”
Sebastian cut tape and applied it. Noble had flown to Singapore and sat by his bedside with Jasmine for a month. “You’ve never forgiven her for leaving me, have you?”
Noble sat back. “I thought I had. When we met again, she wasn’t the same spoiled girl. I knew that.” He waved dismissingly. “But I understood why she never contacted you.” Noble eyed him in a way he remembered from his childhood. “As NSA, she was in the same position you were when the two of you were married. To contact you would mean starting right back where you left off with all that distrust and government need-to-know business.”
Oh yeah, he got that back in Ireland. “Lovely irony, isn’t it?”
“Especially when you called out her name in the hospital.”
His gaze snapped to him. Noble simply arched a brow and gave him that “isn’t that interesting” look, but Sebastian understood his feelings for Olivia. They were intensely familiar. Just not with all this helplessness. He was impatient to get satellite eyes on the Northern Lion. One thing he could count on was Nevolin had backup plans, and she wasn’t done. “That why you didn’t tell me you worked for NSA? Or even Moira?” Informing his daughter, Granlen, and the Surrey police that Noble was free was on his to-do list. That and getting Noble some antibiotics.
“Moira didn’t need to know, and frankly it just wasn’t dangerous, only classified, and that’s until we find a conclusion.”
Noble wouldn’t participate in anything covert that involved defense, but he’d have to get used to the lines crossing. They always did, and he’d admired Olivia for not cutting him any slack. “You need to find those conclusions. Because Nevolin won’t stop with the missiles.” He thought about the millions funneled into her accounts and how low they were right now. He hoped Beckham was following the money trail because Nevolin was delivering those missiles to someone. Soon.
“She gave me her father’s notes to work with, but it felt incomplete. I know what she has and doesn’t, but Gregor followed a path that’s nearly impossible to corroborate, the Viking’s signature, his mark as it were then, on trade documents.” Noble’s brows furrowed. “Gregor seem to already know that the relic had been severed in half by the Maguire’s princess. But the only way he could know that is through the monk’s diary or actually finding it.”
Sebastian’s eyes flared. “Is that even possible?”
“Anything is possible. I would never have thought the Viking’s ship still existed.” He waved toward the dig. “But the Odd Squad has uncovered things that would just blow your mind.”
Sebastian smiled. “Odd Squad?”
“The nickname awarded by non–Second Sight NSA. The few who know about us, that is. Joseph likes to keep a very low profile.”
It amused Sebastian that Noble and the four-star general were on a first-name basis, and if anyone could keep this mess quiet, it was Mac. He pitched the medical trash and returned the kit to the cabinet, a penlight in his mouth. He suddenly turned to Noble.
“Where’s your
backup files for the diary?”
Noble tipped his head. “I back up online at a secure site.”
Shoulda known, wouldn’t have mattered, he thought, then looked at the flickering lights. He heard Riley bark something at Ross. The agent typed on the keyboard. A minute later, the lights came on, and it was a few more before they could send a signal to the satellite sliding quickly out of range.
The images were static, then twisted before it clarified. McGill was on the wire. Sebastian stepped near the mounted camera.
“We saw it. We have tight eyes on the ship. Danes are out of Thule air base. Moscow has MiGs in the air, but the ship is moving quickly into international waters. If they can, they’ll strike.”
“Doctor Corrigan is hostage on the Northern Lion.”
McGill looked grim. “We don’t have any vessels in the area and it will take hours to get anything closer. I’m ordering an LPH to fast track ahead of the fleet.”
A Landing Platform Helo was smaller and could make better time.
“Then I’m calling in every marker, sir, including Beckham’s.” The man stood just inside camera range and visibly tensed. “I don’t care how you threaten or blackmail. Stop those MiGs, cuz if Olivia dies, I’m holding y’all”—he motioned to Beckham and Gerardo—“personally responsible.”
Beckham looked like he’d issue a counterthreat, but McGill put his hand up.
“Be ready to fly.”
FIFTEEN
Olivia didn’t know how long she dozed on the bunk, but was grateful to be warm and dry. She tried to move and her stomach rolled with the bank of the ship. She curled tighter. Clearly we’re not in icebreaker mode, she thought and could feel the ship charging through the ocean. From across the room, she watched the water in the glass rock and shimmer, and her gaze fell on the papers and laptop on the desk beside it. She’d tried the Internet connection to reach Sebastian, but it was useless at sea and she could only imagine the tailspin she’d sent Ice Harvest into. Sebastian must be going nuts. And mad. That was a given.
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