Floating above them is Rosie.
I swim hard. I’ve never swum so fast in my life. I reach my daughter in several powerful kicks and drag her to the surface. She sputters, coughing, and instantly starts to scream.
Which is good. She was only under for a few seconds at most.
But it’s bad since now the whole fucking boat knows where we are.
“I’ve got you, baby.” I kick, swimming for my vessel. It’s still tethered off to the side. More explosions rock the water. Screaming men throw themselves overboard, at least one of them very much on fire. He hits the water with a hiss.
I don’t see Satya or Elias. I can’t imagine the old Dragon can swim very well without legs. If I don’t dive down for him, I’m not sure the old man will survive.
But he knew what he was doing when he attacked Satya.
I’m not a praying man, but I’ll hold Elias in my dreams until my dying day for what he just did.
I reach the boat and heave myself on board. Rosie’s drenched and crying, her lips blue with cold. I find an emergency blanket in a first aid kit and wrap her tightly. “We’re going home.”
The sky is filled with drones. They buzz, bombing the boat. Medved’s men are attacking back, and dozens of the whirling quadcopters flutter into the water, pinging down beneath the surface.
I turn the engine to full and aim our nose back the way we came as another swarm of drones descends to act as cover.
“Got your back,” Enzo says through my earpiece, which miraculously survived the dive. Must be some waterproof shit. “Keep going.”
“Elias is still in the water.”
“I’ve got divers already in the area. If he’s still alive, they’ll bring him out.”
“I want Medved dead, you hear me? Blow them to pieces.”
“Doing our best.”
More explosions. More screaming. I risk a look back, only to see Medved’s warship making a run for it, while a swarm of drones continues to pepper the hull with small arms fire and dropped grenades.
“Home now,” I tell my daughter, holding her tight.
ALLIE
Elias Thorne’s room is warm. Logs crackle in the fireplace. The black and white TV plays some detective show. Rosie cruises around the couch, knocking things off the coffee table and picking them back up again.
“I hear… she took… her first steps.”
His voice is a croak. One eye is shut while the other squints at me. His mouth can barely move.
“She’ll be running marathons soon.”
“Yes… good…” Each of his breaths is a labor. Elias Thorne was a beast in life, but now he’s a ghost of that man.
I owe him everything.
But I don’t know what to say. I can’t think of how I can possibly repay him for what he did. Rosie would still be under Medved’s control if it weren’t for his bravery.
Mass told me everything. He told me what Elias sacrificed. The old man should be dead, but luckily one of Enzo’s divers found him and gave him oxygen before he could drown.
Except that was only a temporary reprieve.
Elias was bad before. Nobody thought he had long to live. But now it’s clear.
The Dragon is dying.
