The second drone exploded, fragments raining down in molten arcs that hissed as they hit the sea. The smell of burnt metal filled the air.
Silence.
Then there were only the engine’s growl and the sound of the sea remaining. I headed back down below deck once things were clear.
Lev glanced up at me, eyes wild. “You know,” he remarked, “for someone who swears he’s not reckless, you’re terrible at proving it.”
“Hey. A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do,” I retorted.
The engines screamed louder as we pushed the throttle to its limit. The boat tore across the water, twin streaks of firelight dying behind us.
We were coming for Kara.
And this time, nothing—not ARCHEON, not Revenant, not even God himself—was going to stop us.
CHAPTER 29
Kara
I’d always believed ships had heartbeats.
You just had to get close enough to feel the thrum of engines rolling through the ribs of steel, the steady churn of prop shafts, and the damp breath of the bilge. The cargo ship’s pulse pounded up through my boots, cocky and sure of itself.
I decided to stop it.
The catwalk bucked beneath me as the freighter took a swell. I cut left, back inside, and almost walked past a hatch marked Engineering—Authorized Personnel Only.
I jammed my stolen knife under the lower lip of the wheel, leveraged the handle like a crank, and put my full body weight into turning it. The hatch grudgingly opened with a loud squeal.
Stairs spiraled down into the dark below. Shadows strobed red in time with the emergency beacons. I slipped my thumb over the ring on my finger and gave it two quick squeezes. If Demyanstill had me on the grid, he’d know I was moving deeper into the ship. If not, well, I didn’t want to think about that.
The engine room was a cathedral of hulking machinery with two diesel engines and a forest of pipes labeled with fading stencils. A lone motorman swung around, eyes widening. His hand flew to a panel on the bulkhead, whether it was an alarm or a radio didn’t matter.
I threw my knife.
It punched into the meat of his shoulder, and he staggered with a strangled shout. I was on him before the echo faded, slamming him into the control cabinet. He swung; I ducked; his fist cracked metal and he yelped. I buried my knee in his stomach, and he folded as I yanked my knife free. I snatched a crescent wrench from a magnet strip and clipped him behind the ear. He sagged to the deck, out cold, but still breathing.
My heart pounded like a drum as I forced myself to focus.
Okay, think, Kara.
I slammed my knife into the first set of pipes I saw and twisted until it started to hiss. The air suddenly filled with the sharp, oily smell of diesel fuel. The deck vibrated beneath me, almost like the ship shuddered in pain. I did it again and again, until the air was so thick it was hard to breathe.
Perfect.
A deep boom echoed overhead, shaking dust down from the ceiling. I froze. The low, rhythmic pounding that followed told me that the helicopter had closed in on us. I hoped it was Revenant’s and not ARCHEON’s.
Gunfire erupted above deck, muffled but close. I ducked instinctually, pressing my back against the wall, heart slamming in my chest.
Move, Kara. Move now.
I sprinted for the nearest door, boots pounding against metal. Two guards came rushing down the stairs, rifles raised. Their eyes widened when they saw me, and they shouted, their voices lost under the alarms.
I dove behind a tank as bullets ricocheted off the walls. One of them cursed. I waited for the pause—one breath, maybe two—then grabbed the nearest thing I could find, a loose wrench, and hurled it at the light fixture overhead. The bulb shattered, plunging us into darkness.
The guards hesitated. I didn’t.
I darted forward, low and fast, using the shadows as cover. The first man never saw me coming. I slammed my elbow into his throat, then his head, grabbed his weapon as he went down, and swung it around like a club, knocking the second flat on his back. He hit the floor hard. Before he moved to get up, I used the gun to bash him over the head.
