They traveled along the ever-widening Potomac until they reached the bay. Sailing north, Dom kept his binos trained ahead. Shapes soon broke over the horizon. In the midst of a loose circle of white ships was the gleaming gray hull of his Huntress. He signaled the Hunters to make landfall. Andris steered the Zodiac to shore, and Miguel beached the catamaran beside it.
Once Miguel turned off the gurgling motor, the woods around them seemed eerily silent. Dom shouldered his rifle and gestured for the others to do the same. He waited, wondering whether they’d be casting off again in a hurry. After a few moments, he picked up the sound of birdsong and the chirp of insects—but no telltale sign of the Skulls.
The group transferred the dive supplies onto the shore. Dom directed the operation as each able-bodied hunter suited up. He secured the Hunters’ gauges to their tanks and checked the air pressure in each. With Glenn out of commission, they had just enough tanks to go around. The Hunters formed a semicircle, and Dom briefed them again. They’d been over the plan, but he wanted to ensure every detail was clear. Even a minor screw-up could lead to their capture—or worse.
Dom spent the last minutes before the mission with his daughters, sitting quietly beside them as they ate a couple of MREs. He muttered a silent prayer of thanks to Adam for giving his life to save the girls. Maybe if there was an afterlife, he’d find Adam there and buy him a drink.
But not today. Today he was going to get his ship back.
The others checked over their equipment, the explosives, and the nonlethals they’d gathered. Dom chuckled to himself as he realized he owed them all a couple of drinks, too. On every mission these men and women faced seemingly insurmountable odds. They each were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice. Adam had been one of the unlucky ones who’d actually had to pay that price, but he suspected that more of them would be lost in the war to eradicate the Oni Agent. A shudder ran down Dom’s spine, and he hoped the others didn’t see it.
A hand touched his arm gently. “You okay?” Meredith asked in a low voice.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dom said. Then he sagged and let himself lean against her. “Who am I kidding? Of course I’m not okay. I almost lost my daughters again. And Adam’s gone. We’re about to toss a Hail Mary of a mission to recover the ship that might be our only chance to survive in this twisted world.”
“It’s pretty fucked up,” Meredith said, her voice dry.
“It’s pretty fucked up,” Dom agreed. Somehow acknowledging that simple truth helped keep the smoldering remains of hope alive in him.
Meredith strapped a pair of knockout gas canisters to her utility belt. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “But it’ll just be like old times. You and me, sneaking into a target overrun by hostile military. Makes you nostalgic, doesn’t it?”
“Nostalgia isn’t the quite the word I’d use to describe the feeling of infiltrating my own ship.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “But if that’s the word that works for you, let’s get nostalgic.”
The last dying light of the setting sun disappeared behind the westward trees. Clouds were rolling in, blotting out the stars. Dom could smell the rain before it began to fall in heavy sheets. He wasn’t sure if the storm was a good omen or bad.
Either way, it was time to get started.
The group abandoned the catamaran in favor of the Zodiac. The craft was built for stealth, and stealth was what they needed.
Meredith twisted her red hair into a bun, squeezing the water out of it in a futile gesture. “You know why they say you shouldn’t go diving in the rain, don’t you?”
A wry grin crossed Dom’s face as water streamed over his brow and nose. “You’ll get wet.”
Renee was crouched next to them, adjusting one of her fins. She rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure I heard that joke before.”
Glenn slowed the Zodiac as they approached the Huntress and the cutters. He kept a small island between themselves and the ships. Once Dom judged they were close enough, he pulled his mask over his face.
“I love you girls,” he said to Kara and Sadie. He looked at Meredith and surprised himself by saying, “You, too.” Then he placed his regulator in his mouth and rolled into the murky river.
-33-
Meredith followed Dom into the darkness of the roiling water. They’d talked about diving in the Florida Keys or even the Maldives. Yet it always seemed every time they’d dived together over the years, it was in dark waters like this for some mission or training exercise. Never just for the fun of it. They deserved a damned vacation. All of them. She vowed that after this was all over, she’d take a trip with him and the girls. Maybe they’d dive the Great Barrier Reef together. She’d always wanted to do that.
Meredith tried to keep an eye on him, but visibility was terrible in the murky depths. Instead, she relied on her smartwatch, synced up with the other Hunters, to tell her the location of the ships and her fellow divers. She pumped her legs, trying to gain speed with her fins, but fighting the current was like trying to push over a Goliath.
She had almost forty minutes to contemplate the mission ahead—and the fact that Dom had said he loved her. They’d hardly talked about their feelings, either as partners or now, at last, as lovers. She’d been taken off guard, and before she could respond, Dom had dropped into the water. She smiled behind her mask. Typical man.
At last, her smartwatch beeped a signal to her comm link. With another kick, the ghostly gray image of the Huntress’s stern appeared floating in the water before her. Clicks over her comm link told her the other Hunters had found their targets as well. She surfaced slowly. Rain pelted her. Dom came up next and removed the regulator from his mouth.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “Aye aye, Captain.”
He grabbed the rungs of a ladder built into the hull. Hand over hand, he climbed with Meredith following closely. Her fingers slipped on a rung. She caught herself but began to climb slower. No mistakes. Once they were safely above the waves, they removed their fins and secured them to their packs. They continued the awkward climb with their gear and SCUBA tanks draped over their backs.
Dom stopped before the ladder reached the deck. He used two fingers to point to his eyes and then pointed over the gunwale. Then he held up three fingers.
Shit, Meredith thought. Three people above deck, even in a downpour like this. It didn’t bode well for how tight security must be on the ship. And with the two of them burdened by their gear, it wouldn’t be easy to bring down three guards.
She undid a water-resistant pouch in her pack and slipped out a Taser. Dom did likewise. She squeezed next to him on the ladder so she could get a view of the guards. They were pacing around the helipad. A Huey sat where Frank’s AW109 was supposed to be. Meredith felt a twinge of guilt that they’d heard nothing from the pilot. She had no idea where he might be or if he was even alive. She missed his corny jokes.
Two of the guards stopped and began a brief conversation. She pointed at them, claiming them for herself. Dom nodded and then sliced the air with a chopping motion.
They sprang from the ladder. Their bare feet padded over the wet deck, and Meredith did her best to prevent the tank on her back from clanging against the loose dive gauges and the regulator. The rain masked what little noise they did make.
She heard a whoomph as Dom slammed into his target and subdued the man. She pounced on one of the guards and wrapped her arm around his neck. He tried to yell, but she’d already clamped down on his airway. With her other hand, she aimed the Taser and fired at the other guard. He went down convulsing.
The guard in her grip dropped his weapon and clawed at her, trying to break free. He threw himself backward, and she slammed against the Huey. Her dive tank knocked against the back of her head, and pain coursed through her skull.
But she didn’t let go. The man’s struggling became weaker. Slowly, he slipped into the realm of unconsciousness. As soon as he had, Meredith zip-tied his wrists together. She bounded to the o
ther man, who was fighting his Taser-induced stupor.
She unslung her rifle and clocked him in the temple with its stock.
“Sorry,” she said as he sprawled over the deck.
They dragged the three knocked-out guards next to the Huey and duct-taped their mouths. After shedding their dive gear, Dom grabbed a rope from his pack, and Meredith took out the bulky drill and heavy bit from hers. She quickly looped the rope through her utility belt and clipped it in place with a carabineer.
“Now for the real show,” Dom said. “You got this?”
“You bet I do.”
He helped her over the gunwale and belayed her as she rappelled down the portside hull. She peered at the schematics of the Huntress on her smartwatch. Once she gauged she was just outside the main HVAC ducts, she unstrapped the drill from her belt. She spread her feet out and used her boots to hold herself in place. The drill turned on with a quick trigger squeeze, and she aimed at a spot in the middle of a hull plate.
The bit screeched as it chewed through the metal. Meredith cringed. The downpour wouldn’t be enough to drown these noises out. Speed and surprise were the only advantages they had. Seconds seemed like minutes as the drill whined. Finally, the drill punched through. She’d breached the hull.
“I’m in,” she said over the comm link.
“Good, now—” Dom stopped. The rope holding her went slack, and she plummeted toward the water. Then the rope became taut again, and the utility belt bit into her waist. She lost her grip on the drill. It plunged into the bay as she swung from the side of the ship.
“Dom?” she asked. She could hear the sounds of heavy breathing and grunting over the comm link. The thud of something hitting metal rang out above her.
She tried grabbing the rope and climbing. The rain ruined her grip, and she slid back down, swinging above the waves. Next, she tried wrapping the rope around her hand, over and over. She made slow progress, though adrenaline churned her onward. Dom was in trouble.
Another loud yell echoed from above, piercing the pounding of the rain. She climbed faster, winding the rope around herself more and more. It squeezed painfully, but she had no choice. Before she reached the gunwale, she paused near the hole she’d drilled. She needed to finish this job before more guards arrived. She plugged in a canister of the knockout gas, pulled the pin, and let it spray into the ducts. She didn’t know how long it would take for the gas to permeate the ship, but she wasn’t going to wait down here to find out.
Once at deck level, she leapt over the gunwale. Two men were on either side of Dom, pinning his arms. One reached for a radio. Meredith sprinted and tackled him. The radio clattered across the deck. Dom swung a fist at the other guard’s surprised face.
Meredith rolled to the deck as her target regained his balance. He had strength on his side and grabbed both her wrists, bearing her down. She tried to kick, but he twisted her arms painfully back and dodged easily. She wouldn’t win in a battle of brawn against this man.
Rolling to her left, she used the guard’s force against him. Unprepared for the maneuver, he slammed into the deck. His grip loosened enough for her to free one hand, and she leapt onto his back. She wrapped her hand around his neck. Each time he tried to stand, she delivered a powerful kick to knock his legs out from under him. The man lashed against her grip, flailing and shaking like a bronco. But she countered every move he made until he collapsed into unconsciousness. Once she zip-tied the man’s wrists, she turned to help Dom.
But her stomach twisted into a painful knot. A knife was sticking out of Dom’s right shoulder, buried up to the hilt. The guard backed away with his pistol aimed straight at Dom’s face. He put just enough distance between himself and the Hunter that Meredith knew Dom couldn’t easily disarm him, but the guard stood little chance of missing an assuredly fatal shot.
“Both of you stay completely fucking still,” the guard said, spitting blood. “We’ve been waiting for you fuckers.” He reached slowly to the radio at his side and then spoke into it. “Becker here. Got a couple of wannabe spies on deck. Need backup.”
***
A gray haze filled the medical bay. Lauren watched it spill from the air ducts. She recalled Peter’s brief warning about the masks and realized what must be happening. Knockout gas in the vents. The guards in the med bay looked around in confusion and then passed out. Loud clangs and thumps echoed through the bulkhead from the upper deck. In the isolation ward, with their separate air supply and filtration systems, they were safe. She used the scalpel blade Peter had given her to saw away at her plastic ties.
“What the hell is that?” Terrence asked, transfixed by the tendrils of smoke.
“I think Dom made it back to the ship.” Lauren finished cutting through the plastic cuffs. With her hands free, she hopped out of bed. The movement sent a wave of pain through her head. She glanced at the empty beds of Ivan and Scott. Their bodies were gone, taken away by the guards at last, but the bloodstains remained. She went to a cabinet by Scott’s old bed and retrieved a pair of surgical scissors. The tool made slicing through Terrence’s plastic cuffs easier.
“What now?” he asked.
“We need oxygen masks.” She entered the decon chamber. From a sealed drawer, she took out a couple of backup oxygen masks. “For the biohazard suits,” she explained. She gave one to Terrence and placed the other over her mouth and nose. Terrence did the same, and Lauren opened the outer door. She took a deep breath through the mask as the haze enveloped her. Her heartbeat quickened when she looked over Thomas and the other patients in the med bay. She hoped the knockout gas didn’t interfere with their recovery, but she didn’t have time to check on them.
“We should disarm the guards,” Terrence said.
They removed the guards’ holsters. Lauren snagged one of their submachine guns, and Terrence took another for himself. There was no way they could carry all the weapons, so they locked the rest in a supply closet. An unconscious guard’s radio started squawking.
“Becker here. Got a couple of wannabe spies on deck. Need backup.”
Lauren looked at Terrence, a deep pit forming in her stomach. Wordlessly, they ran through the hatch. The passageways were all filled with gray fog. Guards were passed out, lying against the bulkheads. Lauren ignored them and leapt for the ladders to the upper deck.
Once they reached the hatch leading to the helipad, Terrence took the lead. He waited a beat at the hatch before pushing it open. Lauren wielded the submachine gun clumsily as they burst outside. Torrents of rain fell over the deck in unrelenting sheets. She made out a figure standing on one side of the helipad. Across from her, a guard had a pistol leveled at another Hunter. The visibility was too poor to see who it was.
The guard spun when he heard the hatch clang against the bulkhead. Terrence brought his gun to bear. The guard’s surprised expression morphed into one of anger, and Lauren could see him turning back to take the shot.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion.
Lauren gasped.
A gunshot rang out across the deck.
Then a second, a third, and finally a fourth.
The guard lay on the deck, clutching wounds in his leg and arm. He wasn’t dead; Terrence had expertly disabled the man. But not before the guard had gotten off two shots of his own.
Lauren ran to Dom. The Hunter was sprawled in the pouring rain, grasping his chest. Blood seeped out from a gash in his right shoulder.
He wheezed. “I’m okay,” he managed. “Body armor. Check Meredith.”
Lauren ran to the other figure by the helipad. Even in the rain, there was no mistaking the blood covering the side of Meredith’s head.
-34-
Dom rushed to Meredith. His pulse thudded in his eardrums like the heavy beat of helicopter blades. He knelt and undid her helmet. As he cradled her head, blood seeped around his fingers. Rainwater washed it away as quickly as it flowed.
“No, please,” he said. He tried to find the source of the blood, but the li
ght was bad and there was blood everywhere.
“Let me see,” she said. She pulled Meredith’s hair away and pressed two fingers to her throat. “She’s got a pulse, at least.”
Terrence watched over them with his submachine gun. Gray haze drifted from the open hatch. That was enough to shake Dom into action.
“Terrence, take one of these,” Dom said, unclipping another gas canister from Meredith’s belt. “Toss it inside. We need to keep everyone knocked out.”
Terrence followed his orders and closed the hatch, but Dom’s attention was already back on the woman lying in his arms.
Dom brushed his fingers across her cheek. “Come on, Meredith. Don’t leave me. Who’s gonna tell me when I’m being a macho idiot?”
“Captain, I need room to work,” Lauren said.
Dom nodded and made himself back away. The doctor had her task, and he had his. There were still divers in the water waiting for instructions. “Dive parties, this is Dom. Are the charges set?”
He waited and counted the clicks through his comm link. Each one signified a successfully placed explosive. After he heard all three clicks—one for each Coast Guard cutter—he spoke again. “Good job. Upper deck is clear of hostiles. Huntress is sleeping. Get your asses up here.”
He looked down. Lauren’s hands were covered in Meredith’s blood.
“Goddamnit,” Dom said. He wanted to stay with Meredith.
Lauren looked up at him. “She’s still alive, but I need to get her indoors.”
“I know,” Dom said. “And she’s a hell of a fighter. She’ll pull through.” He donned his gas mask as Lauren placed one over Meredith’s face. He spoke over the comm link. “Hunters, listen up. We’ve got a casualty. Meredith is down, so first stop for us is the med bay. I need all available oxygen and gas masks for the essential crew. Terrence, you’ll help me wake the engineers. For all of you still underwater, as soon as you board, help secure the guards. Grab any electronics off them. Radios, cellphones, computers they brought aboard, absolutely anything Samantha and Chao might be able to hack. Then load the guards on a lifeboat and prepare to toss it overboard.”
The Tide: Deadrise Page 24