He wanted Nevolin to die for her cruelty to her own country and all who helped her to perish with her. His personal phone rang, and he frowned, glancing at the number.
It starts here, he thought.
“We have the transmission offering to help the Trident. We will come out of this smelling like a rose, Leonid. Our president is not happy.”
Leonid closed his eyes. “Neither is mine.”
“He signed the order. Golubev, he signed it, didn’t he?”
Leonid knew his calls were tapped. “Never.”
“Then it was you.”
He inhaled.
“I thought that would get your attention.”
They spoke further, accomplishing nothing more than a dance of words and threats. Leonid ended the call, pocketed the phone, then declared that all FSB agents in the area were to hunt Nevolin and Kolbash and kill them.
Noble stared at the dissolving marker on the screen, then looked at Safia and Riley. “No. It can’t be.” He stood. “Dear God, please tell me that’s wrong.”
Safia rapidly typed. Riley was on a phone, looking grim. “No, it’s not. Northern Lion was hit, it’s sinking.”
Noble felt numb. For me. She traded herself for me. He sank into a chair, his face in his hands. Sebastian will be devastated. Silence reigned with the numbness of loss and he didn’t know how long he sat there, staring at the floor. A thermal mug of coffee appeared in front of his face and he looked up.
Safia handed it over. “I’m so sorry. I liked her.”
She hugged him and he patted her shoulder. “You would have been friends, I think.” He sipped as she turned back to the computer, and kept vigilant over the air and ship traffic. At least the missiles won’t get away. He stared into his mug, his heart aching for Sebastian, for the love he knew he’d lost all over again. He’d never wanted Olivia to know how crushed he was when she left him. He thrown himself into Special Operations, volunteering for the most dangerous assignments like he was asking to be put out of his own misery. It had changed him, made him reserve himself from others. Noble prayed this was a dream and was on his second cup when he heard his name, then rapid footsteps. He turned as Cruz flew around the corner, grabbing the edge to keep from falling.
“TV. Nevolin,” he gasped. “She just loaded a video onto YouTube.”
He stood, shrugging off the blankets. “What is it?” He went to a computer.
“Looks like a documentary. Intel says the signal came from where the Northern Lion went down.”
“That’s not possible.” Safia worked her keyboard and Noble saw the imagery change, narrow enough to show the cloud cover. “There’s nothing out there but an abandoned rig that was being dismantled.”
Ross waved. “I have the feed.” He sent it to a bigger screen and looked up. “Good God. She got inside the sub.”
Noble turned to a TV tucked on the edge of a desk and turned it on. He searched for a European channel. It was on a French channel and the BBC.
“Russia has blocked it from their networks,” Ross said. “But it’s on Pravda online, and an RSS feed to about three hundred websites.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Noble stepped into the middle of the discussion. “If Nevolin is alive to do that, maybe Olivia is, too.” He looked at Safia. “Is there any way to contact Sebastian?”
She shook her head. “He’s on a Huey. He saw that missile hit.”
“Olivia?” Cruz said. “What’s wrong with Olivia?” No one paid him any attention.
“Nevolin believes she needs her. She could be alive!” He looked at Riley, waiting for him to believe the possibility.
“If there’s a chance, we take it,” Riley said. “If Nevolin is on that rig, she has plans to get off it, too.” He looked at Safia. “Send McGill an alert. We need to drop some buoys and submarines need to track. The minisub I saw in Svalbard could easily take deep depths, but she’s gone unnoticed so far. I’m betting it’s got jamming devices onboard.” Safia nodded, already typing as Riley turned to Noble. “You’re right. Nevolin’s not done. Get on Olivia’s computer, see what she’s found in the dig. We need to know where the relic is before Nevolin. Olivia felt they wanted it for something very specific. Help me, Noble. I know she uncovered coins and a plant.”
His eyes widened as he stood, wrapped in thermal blankets. “Seriously? That will certainly close some gaps.”
“Talk to the rest of the staff, “Riley said, beckoning Cruz closer. “If Nevolin survives, she’s going after it. She’s killed too many to stop now and the way her bank account is looking, the missiles are payment so she can keep hunting.”
“I think Kolbash is dying.”
Everyone stopped and Riley frowned. “He’s as big as a house and sure didn’t look it.”
“I saw him one time with marks under his nose, like he used oxygen recently. His skin was red, but looked pasty. He’d used a powder to cover it. It was the pinkish shade that looked so odd.” Noble rubbed his temple as if it would pull thoughts to the surface. “The diary implies it had healing qualities, perhaps that’s her reason for hunting. Nevolin is in charge, but I had the feeling she and Kolbash are lovers.”
He didn’t feel a shred of sympathy for either of them, but understood her need for the mysterious head of jade. He’d do anything to have saved Olivia the fate laid out for her right now. He hoped Nevolin took her as a hostage.
“I’m betting it’s lung cancer,” Riley said and Noble frowned. “The one thing that led us to connect your disappearance and the rescue op in Chechnya was Russian cigarettes and tattoos.”
“I’ll find the stone, you reach Sebastian. He doesn’t know about the video broadcast. He’s out there thinking there’s no hope.”
Time seemed to slow down as Nevolin launched it again and again. Kolbash stared at his watch, and Olivia realized he was calculating the time inside satellite range. The cloud cover wasn’t interfering, apparently, as the launch icon finished and blinked. Nevolin confirmed each send, then disconnected the laptop. Her smile was extra bright, a little crazed. She stored the notebook inside a waterproof sack, zipped her parka, and stopped a few feet from Olivia. Nevolin gave her a long self-important look, then opened the door. The wet wind snapped hard through the building, slamming the door against the wall. Stefan exited and Olivia started to follow. Kolbash wouldn’t let her and put a gun in her face.
“Stay.”
Her eyes flew wide. “Oh God. Please don’t do this.”
He just smiled. “You should not have hit her.” He turned away.
Olivia rushed after them. “Are you serious? You can’t leave me on this thing.” To punctuate her words, ship debris hit and the steel platform shifted. The three of them rushed toward the corner of the rig and the sub anchored below. Every time she started after them, Kolbash fired at her.
I’m going to die out here. Their intention, of course. Icy sleet battered her face, her forehead stinging. Kolbash was the last to disappear down the rabbit hole to the ladder and she ran to it, looking down. The gunshot was loud and she threw herself back. Okay, that’s not an option, and her gaze shot around the rig. On the horizon, she saw helicopters. She needed some way to signal them. She ran back to the building and to the electrical pump switch. She forced it up four times as Kolbash had done. Then at the computers, she searched for the switch, for anything to give off a signal. Nothing worked, and she ducked under and realized all but that one portion had been removed. She typed, then yanked off her frozen gloves and tried to send an SOS. She didn’t know where those ships originated, but someone was bound to get it. The satellite signal was strong, and she tried everything, but without the notebook laptop, this computer wasn’t capable of more than a DOS message. Then the floor beneath her feet shifted steeply, throwing her against the bulkhead.
“You’ve been out here for decades and now you want to give up?” She yanked on her gloves, then covered as much of her skin as she could. She adjusted the seal of her goggles, then opened the door. Moving wa
s a struggle on the uneven platform. The storm raged around her, water and hail splattering the deck. She was a single speck on a massive structure the size of a skyscraper. The low groan of bending steel terrified her and she ran around the building, searching for a ladder, a way to get off the deck and be seen. She found it, climbed, telling herself it was like rock climbing. She had to jump to reach the rung. She felt like the Road Runner trying to get traction on the wet wall as she pulled her weight higher.
She searched the horizon. The Northern Lion was gone. God, all those people. The ships containing the missiles were speeding away, but in the distance she could see vessels approaching them. She hoped they weren’t Russian. Above her, a gray misty haze enveloped the rig, and she climbed to the only spot she could. A five-rung ladder for maintenance on the satellite tower. It was already crooked, and she tested, then climbed another rung.
The beat of a helicopter grew louder and she saw two divide off, the doors thrown back. They were searching the water and she adjusted her goggles. Freezing rain saturated her head, and she could feel the stiffness of hypothermia setting in. She moved down the ladder to keep the blood flowing. The helicopter swooped past the rig, circling the south side. They’ll never see her, she thought and needed something to get their attention. Stefan had taken everything except her clothing, and her Navy parka and thermal pants blended into the tower. I’m wearing neon pink next time, she thought and pulled off her fur headband. She waved in wide arcs, shouting even when she knew it was useless.
Waves crashed against the rig and that horrible groan came again. Her position dipped, and panic shot through her blood. Water ran off the platform. It was twenty-two below zero in the ocean. She’d never survive. The tower tilted, and she held on to a rung no wider than a drawer pull. She waved harder, losing the wet headband, and glimpsed the wind taking it away. She wiped at her goggle lens, trying not to cry, and thought please, somebody see me.
“I’m sorry, man.”
“Jesus.” Sebastian glanced at Esposito, Reckers, Collins, and Lewis. He read the sympathy in their eyes and it crushed him again.
“Drone gone. Battle group is on its way to block the shipping lanes.”
Helicopters flew toward the ships the satellite had tracked. Until the battle group arrived, the U.S. and Norwegian Navy were making sure they didn’t escape. Sebastian didn’t care. He suddenly didn’t give a damn about anything except losing Olivia. Regrets spilled through him and he heard the pilot say they had been ordered to search for survivors. Sebastian pulled his helmet on and reached for the harness, needing to focus. He rigged up, prepared to haul anyone out of the water. Through burning eyes, he studied the churning surface and saw debris, and two bodies. Male. He couldn’t help imagining Olivia gruesomely torn apart and a deep misery gripped him to his soul. Livi.
Suddenly Max came to his knees. Grabbing binoculars, he sighted out the window. He checked the TDS again, then looked at him. “Unless she’s got a GPS in heaven, she’s above sea level.”
Sebastian grabbed the TDS. The GPS beacon was clear. Olivia. He sighted on the horizon. “Its about eighty meters. South.” He swung left, sighting in. “The abandoned oil rig.” Sebastian grabbed the pilot’s shoulder. “Go to the rig.”
“The Northern Lion wasn’t anywhere near it.”
“But Nevolin had a four-man submarine.”
The chopper turned, and he heard the pilot radio command. Sebastian’s heart pounded with expectation. Please be alive. He shifted to the door, impatient as they approached the rig. It was deserted, the undercarriage broken, debris floating around it and bashing the weak structure.
“That sucker is swaying badly,” Max said. “It’s not going to last long.” Debris from the Northern Lion hit the rig so hard he could hear the deep tone of metal to metal. At the waterline, the steel was bending. Sleet pelted his face and suit, misty clouds swirled with the beat of the chopper blades. He sighted above sea level, but the rig was empty. He looked at Max.
“GPS stopped moving. I can’t tell how high up, but it’s there. Coonass, I hate to say it, but it could be just her boot.”
His stomach rolled at the thought and he was impatient for speed, to get near enough to tell steel girders from icicles. He signaled the pilot to take a spin around the top and he nodded, then banked the Huey. Sebastian scanned the oil rig.
“Lock and load. If she’s there, so are Nevolin and Kolbash!”
Marines cocked weapons, perched on the edge of the deck. He caught the flash of something rolling on the platform and through the binoculars, he narrowed his view. A drowned rat? Quickly, he scanned the rig. The steel scaffolding was webbed around the building, the battering wind tearing off the aluminum sides. He jerked his attention to the tower.
His heart screamed with joy when he spotted a banner of dark red hair kicking in the wind. “Target acquired! She’s on the tower.” Barely, he thought, smiling when Max grabbed his shoulder, shaking it hard. The chopper sped toward the rig.
“Harness up. Pass north.” He adjusted into the harness, then clipped to the zip line.
“The rig’s big enough to land but if that tower falls and hits the rotors, we’re all going down.”
“Get above the tower. Use the loudspeakers. Let her know we see her.” She was hanging on, waving frantically, her hair saturated to dark as the helicopter rose, and put them in position to drop.
“Incoming!” The chopper suddenly banked right sharply and Sebastian gripped the metal edge as the Russian jet screamed toward them, already sending a track of bullets across the water to the rig. He saw them spark off the rig. The tower and metal started to tear. The pilot radioed they were under attack as the Marines unleashed the fifty-caliber machine guns. Danish jets shot across the sky and drew the dogfight above the clouds. As the Huey swept back toward the tower, Sebastian hung on the edge, ready to bail.
“Hold! Hold there!”
The pilot called her name. She looked up. Sebastian knew he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He leapt from the chopper, diving toward her.
Olivia’s world narrowed to one goal; not letting go. She gripped the rungs, and thought, one of your dumber ideas. She was only delaying the inevitable and for a moment, she whined that her life came down to hanging on to some metal rods in a storm. Then she swore she heard her name and looked up. Oh thank you, thank you! The helicopter lowered toward her, growing larger by the second. Then a man jumped off the edge, sliding down the cable line.
Suddenly, the platform was tilted sharply, pulling the weight of the building. Above the hammer of the helicopter, the screech of tearing metal dropped her in sharp jolts. Don’t let go, don’t let go. Icy water churned beneath her. Massive waves crashed on the tilted platform. Dangling like an ornament on the tower, she tried to shift her weight, get her boots on the rung. Then it tore from the supports, and the frozen sea came rushing closer.
The tower broke away and he let loose the zip line, reaching for her. He caught her parka hood as she hit the platform and he yanked on her jacket to stop her slide into the sea. Hand over hand, he pulled her out. Sebastian secured the line, then tried to rouse her. She was unconscious, limp, and he slipped the rescue harness over her head and under her arms, then wrapped his arms and legs around her. “Take us up! I have her!”
The winch lifted them away from the sea as the chopper rose higher, beyond the rig. Suspended over whitecaps, the wind spun them and a few seconds later, the building slid off the platform and crashed into the black ocean. Sebastian clutched her tightly, shielding her face from the storm, and called to her. She didn’t respond. He couldn’t see any wounds, and into his communications said, “Prep for CPR. She’s not responding!”
Sebastian grabbed the skid, and Max grasped her parka, and with the Marines pulled her inside. Esposito hauled him over the edge. Sebastian unclipped from the cable, and turned to Olivia, the Navy medic working over her. She lay on a backboard.
He looked at Max on the other side, the de
fibrillator charging. He met his gaze. “She’s not breathing.”
Oh God.
The medic yanked open her parka and three more layers and started CPR. Sebastian held the oxygen over her nose and mouth and squeezed. He counted the reps of the corpsman, and breathed for her, willing her to come back. He leaned close to her ear.
“Don’t check out now, baby, please.” He heard the fracture in his own voice, felt the raw sting. He’d made promises to himself, and he needed her to help keep them. He’d already lost her once today and suddenly he could barely breathe. “Jesus, Livi. Come on. Breathe, baby. We’re not done yet.”
Olivia was in a gentle, warm place till she felt the incessant pressure in her chest. Instantly, she felt the biting cold, and arched, drawing in cold air. She coughed and didn’t move, couldn’t, her body numb. Someone called her name, peeled her eyes open, and flashed a light. She turned her face away and felt hands fussing with her, removing her wet boots. Her breathing shivered with chills and she opened her eyes.
Sebastian hovered. “Hello, cherie. I’m glad you came back to the party.”
She frowned and it dawned on her. “Oh God.”
“—was looking out for you. What hurts?”
“My butt.” Those great lips curved in a smile.
“Anything else? Can you move your feet? Arms?”
She knocked her feet together, then lifted her arm and cupped the back of his head, bringing him down to her. “That was some really bad timing, huh?”
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