The Tide: Deadrise (31 page)

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.

––––––––

D
om 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 light 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.”

Terrence and Lauren nodded. A few Hunters, already climbing out of the water, voiced their affirmatives through the comm link. He heard the click of others who were still underwater and headed for the ship. After putting on his gas mask, Dom picked up Meredith. Hot pain lanced through his injured shoulder, but he ignored it as he carried her to the med bay. Once there, he lowered Meredith onto a bed. Terrence took a handful of oxygen masks and disappeared into the passageway. Lauren started tending to Meredith, and Dom placed masks on the other members of the medical team. As they began to breathe clean air, they slowly woke. Peter held a hand over his head like he was recovering from an intense hangover.

“Good to see you, Captain,” he said. A wide grin slowly spread across his face until he saw Lauren working in the patient ward. “Oh, no. Casualty?”

Dom nodded grimly. The surgeon rose and hurried to join Lauren. Sean and Divya quickly followed. With the medical team roused and gathered around Meredith, there was nothing more Dom could do here. He rushed into the passageway. Lights shone from the electronics workshop, and Dom heard Terrence speaking with Samantha and Chao.

Terrence came back to the passageway. “They’re reenabling all the computer systems now. Should be ready to move in fifteen.”

“Good,” Dom said. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Brig,” Terrence said tersely.

They hurried down the ladders and past more slumbering guards. Dom punched in a code on the electronic release to open the brig doors. Nothing happened. He chinned the comm link channel to the electronics workshop. “You two awake? I need brig access.”

A drowsy voice answered. “Getting there,” Samantha said. She hummed tunelessly to herself as she worked and then said, “Okay, it’s done.”

The brig doors opened. Dom searched the sleeping bodies for one man in particular. He secured a mask over the wind-beaten face of his Officer of the Watch, Cliff Slaton, and gently shook him awake.

“Hey, Cliff,” Dom said. “Want to pilot this old boat again?”

The man slowly nodded his head, and Dom helped him to his feet. As Cliff recovered from the knockout gas, Dom assisted him to the pilothouse. Several soldiers and navy officers were passed out along the deck. Terrence joined them moments later. The work of rousing his fellow crew members and securing the guards had taken its toll on his healing body. His burn wounds had opened again, and red stains blossomed on the bandages covering his shoulders.

“All Hunters are back on board,” Renee reported through the comm link.

“Very good,” Dom said. “Report in when all decks are clear.” He turned to Cliff. “Warm the ship up.”

The engines hummed to life. Their gentle vibrations resonated through the bulkhead with a soft purr. Gray gas still plumed through the pilothouse as Cliff worked to bring everything back online, moving between various panels and gauges. Dom helped Terrence secure the guards and place them in a corner.

“All secured on the lower decks,” Miguel said.

“Upper decks secure,” Renee reported.

Andris and Jenna burst into the pilothouse. “Need these guys taken care of?” Andris asked, indicating the guards. “Perhaps I can find a hungry shark.”

“Take them to the lifeboat,” Dom ordered.

The duo nodded, and each of them slung a guard over their shoulder as they left, leaving a trail of sopping-wet footprints. Terrence helped them bring the unconscious men down the ladders. Another set of slow, uneven footsteps soon clanged over the deck.

Thomas, gas mask in place, limped up. “Trying to sail without me?”

“Did Lauren clear you to be up here?” Dom said, eyeing the bandages over the man’s shoulder.

“I can make do,” Thomas said with a wry grin. “Where do you need me?”

“If you’re up for it,” Dom said, “then weapons.”

Thomas’s eyes went wide. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Lifeboat’s loaded up,” Renee called.

“Computers are back online,” Samantha’s voice chimed in over the comm link.

“Boys?” Dom asked, looking around the pilothouse. Cliff and Thomas gave him firm nods. “This part’s going to be tricky, so I need everyone on full alert. We’ve still got a Zodiac out there with Glenn, Spencer, Navid, Kara, and Sadie. Oh, and a waterlogged golden retriever. They’ll be about one klick south of here. We have to lose the cutters first before we pick up the Zodiac.”

The Hunters voices rang out in a single chorus of
aye ayes
. He imagined each of them in position, ready to carry out their orders. “Cliff, half astern.”

The
Huntress
started to churn up water, reversing away from the three cutters. She picked up speed, putting a healthy distance between them and the Coast Guard. A cutter shone a spotlight on the pilothouse.

“
Huntress
,
USCGC Harriet Lane
, no embarkation orders have been received. Can you clarify?”

Dom signaled Cliff not to respond. Again the smaller ship hailed them, and again they ignored it.