Javier, take the one with the baby, and get him out of there.
On it, Top. Javier’s voice never changed.
He pushed hard with his foot, increasing the speed of his skateboard. He had let Whitney’s men see him when they came running out, dismissing him as a kid hanging out with his friends, trying new tricks. He’d studied them carefully, knew they were skilled and dangerous. The one he targeted held Sebastian in some kind of pack, leaving both arms free to carry his semiautomatic. The trick was not to try to outshoot them but to make certain his enemy never saw death coming.
He knew they could hear the skateboard coming up behind them, but he sounded like any other teenager, and they’d already assessed and dismissed him as a threat. Rose is unconscious. I can’t tell what they’ve done to her, he warned Paul.
The baby? Kane sounded dispassionate, completely disengaged and remote, but there was the sound of death in his voice.
He’s got lungs, Javier reported, a brief hint of amusement in his voice.
In another few seconds the two men would be on the docks in the midst of a crowd. Smoothly, Javier shoved again, crouching low, surfing over the pitted alley, coming up behind the enemy holding Sebastian. He swept past, his knife flashing, cutting the throat with one hand as he ripped the pack holding the child away with the other.
The man gurgled, both hands flying to his throat. Javier turned sharply as he shot out of the alley into the throng of people, heading for the market where the rows of booths and tables gave him cover. He flashed past Kane and Mack straight toward Paul and Marc. He shoved the bundle into Paul’s hands and swerved away from them, making a show of weaving in and out of the booths to better give Whitney’s man a target.
Javier made the handoff before the enemy went down, a slow-motion fall, first to his knees, clutching his throat, blood spraying through his hands, and then facedown, his head hitting the wooden slats of the wharf.
I’ve got the package, Paul announced as he did an abrupt about-face and began to hurry back toward the warehouse, using the thickening fog for cover from sharpshooters on the rooftops.
I’ve got you covered, Gideon assured. The other two members of their team on the surrounding roofs, Ethan and Lucas, would provide cover for the converging members of their team on the ground.
Double-time it, Mack commanded. We don’t know how many more they sent.
The baby ceased crying the moment he was in Paul’s hands, as if he knew silence was paramount for safety now that his team was taking him through enemy lines back home.
The man with Rose slung over his shoulder halted, staring in horror at his companion. Whirling around in a slight circle, he changed direction, running toward the end of the dock. The fingers of fog had gathered together, turning gray and thick. The sound of his boots on the wooden dock was loud and eerie coming out of the murkiness.
If you have a shot, take it, Mack said. Jacob, are you on him?
Roger that, Top. He’s got company. A fast boat running hot.
Keep them away from the dock, Mack ordered.
At once a barrage of fire from the rooftops prevented the boat from coming in close to the dock. It veered away and raced back out to sea. Once again, the man with Rose switched directions, this time running down the dock toward the pier. The boat circled back in the distance, apparently in communication with the man holding Rose.
Kane paid no attention to anything but Rose. He concentrated on the path to her mind. It had always been easy to communicate with her, but perhaps she had been reaching for him as he reached for her. Now he groped blindly, trusting his instincts as he ran. He refused to allow fear to enter. Emotion wouldn’t do her any good. He had to keep a clear mind and trust his team. All of them were in on the action. Javier had spotted the SUV and correctly read the situation, alerting the team, and they operated together smoothly, as they had for years.
Come to me, sweetheart. Open your eyes, but don’t move. Just open your mind to mine.
He kept the running command up, over and over, pushing deeper into her mind, trying to find her subconscious, trying to reach her. Rose was a force to contend with. The man running with her just didn’t know it.
“You’ve got nowhere to go,” Jacob’s voice came out of the fog, disembodied, slightly distorted. “You’re cut off from your men. Put her down and walk away.”
I’ve got no shot, Lucas said. I’m firing blind at the boat. Fog’s too thick.
I’ve got an angle on the boat, but can’t see Rose, Ethan reported. He sent two rounds at the zigzagging boat. The two occupants had good cover with the small cabin.
Kane stopped running as he neared the enemy and went “ghost,” sliding into the dense fog, barely taking a breath, his feet making no sound on the heavy wooden planks.
Keep his attention centered on you, Mack instructed Jacob. We’re approaching from behind and slightly left and right.
They didn’t want Jacob to shoot them by accident as they split off from each other, moving in complete silence. Kane had sight of the enemy now, standing near the railing overlooking the pounding waves as they broke over the pier pillars. Rose hung limp, either hurt or drugged. Not once had his efforts to rouse her met with a conscious mind. He didn’t stop moving or even hesitate, coming out of the fog, the vapor swirling around him as he approached, striding right up to Whitney’s man, eyes locked on his prey, his gun up and ready.
He recognized the man as one of the guards he worked with, David something. Their eyes met. David’s eyes went wide. He turned and heaved Rose’s body over the railing into the rolling ocean. Kane shot him in the back of his neck, picking up speed as he did, running toward the rail. He tossed the gun to Mack, leapt onto the rail, and dove, following Rose into the sea.
The water was ice cold, closing over his head, taking him down into darkness. He refused to feel the cold or the pounding, rolling force of nature. He didn’t fight, rather went with it, waiting to surface until the sucking sensation left and he could kick upward. He took a breath and looked around, knowing the next wave would drive him against the pillars if he wasn’t careful.
He spotted her body up against one of the whitened columns, the waves battering her delicate form. He swam, using his enormous strength to pull him through the water, using the wave to push him closer to her.
Rose! Rose, baby, wake up for me.
He refused to allow panic into his world. There was only the distance between them, and he was closing it with every long, strong stroke. He got his arm around her and rolled her over. Her body was completely limp, and for a moment he thought she might be dead. He managed to ride out the next wave with his arm firmly under her.
In the water! Bogey in the water. Ethan’s voice filled his mind.
A bullet spit just past Kane as a diver in a green and black wet suit emerged from behind the pillar, speargun in hand. Lucas had taken a shot at the diver but missed. The diver shot at Kane, reaching for Rose in an attempt to get her away from Kane. The spear slid fast through the water, but as the wave came crashing in, it veered slightly off course and just missed his leg.
Go, Jacob, Mack directed. Jacob had been enhanced through DNA just for this purpose. He was the best in the water, and Mack sent him to back up Kane.
Jacob Princeton sliced through the water, moving fast, his body built for swimming, his enhancement allowing him to stay under for long periods of time. He dove under Kane, straight at the diver’s legs, yanking him down and away from Kane, who retained possession of Rose.
The fog was dense over the water, like a living gray cloud, muffling sound and making it more difficult than ever to see, but Kane heard the sound of the boat returning to aid the diver. A large body burst out of the water, knife in hand, coming at him like some monster of the deep. A second diver had waited his chance. They had to have been waiting to transport Rose or the baby into the boat should the land operation fail. David had been quick to throw Rose over the railing because he’d known they had men waiting to fish
her out before she drowned.
Second bogey, Kane informed Mack even as he caught the second diver’s wrist as it came down at him from above, the knife pointed straight at his throat.
The diver was in a yellow and black wet suit, and Kane, in his civilian clothes, was subject to the cold water. He had to let go of Rose in order to keep from being stabbed. He caught the diver’s wrist with both hands and kicked the man hard in the gut. The wave took Rose and rolled her underwater.
Mack! Rose. It was a measure of Kane’s distress that he addressed Mack, his friend, and not Top, the team leader. I can’t get to her.
Brian’s on it.
The complete confidence in Mack’s voice steadied Kane as he struggled against his attacker, fending off the knife, kicking strongly with his legs to keep them both up. The diver would have the advantage underwater. He used his strength to bend the blade of the knife back toward the diver’s body, leveraging against his arm. He had to trust Brian Hutton—and Mack—with the love of his life. He pushed Rose, the boat, and the struggle between Jacob and the other diver out of his brain and put mind and body into staying alive.
The diver gave a little, and with the enormous pressure he was using, the sudden withdrawal of resistance sent him forward. The diver somersaulted backward, and they both went underwater, Kane behind him. He latched onto the diver’s back, his arm around his neck, locking down in a death grip. It was extremely difficult to wrench the neck underwater with enough force to break it, but he applied enough pressure fast and hard that the diver began to lose consciousness. Without the struggling resistance, he was able to get leverage and snap the neck.
The knife fell from the diver’s hand, and Kane dove after it. As he surfaced into the thick fog, looking for Rose and Brian, he heard the sound of a boat bearing down on him.
We don’t have all night, Jacob. The boat’s closing in on you, and the boys don’t have a decent shot to keep them off of you, Mack informed the team member they’d dubbed “Shark.”
Give me a couple of minutes, Top. Jacob cut the air hose, dragging the first diver under the water. I’m a little occupied at the moment.
The wave rolled them, pushing them toward the pillars. The diver struggled, trying to throw Jacob off him, but Jacob held him. They rolled together, over and over, scraping along the floor of the ocean, Jacob holding the diver ruthlessly. No matter how the diver twisted or turned, Jacob was tenacious, like a pit bull, refusing to let him go.
They struggled, stirring up layers of fine sand and marine sediment on the floor, adding to the murkiness in the water. The diver began to panic, fighting in earnest now, trying to pull his knife from where it was strapped to his leg. Jacob never allowed him to move from his grip of iron. He took them down to the floor itself, calmly wrapping his legs around him like an octopus, his thighs strong enough to hold him. It was simply a matter of who could hold their breath the longest, and Jacob had been physically enhanced to stay underwater for long periods of time.
The diver’s struggles took on new urgency and then began to grow weaker. Eventually his body stiffened as he gasped for air, drawing water into his lungs. Jacob waited a minute longer until he was certain the other man had drowned. Above his head he saw a propeller as a boat skimmed across the surface.
Brian Hutton dove deep repeatedly in the spot where Rose had rolled under with the waves. Where is she, Top? I can’t find her.
To your right, Brian. Three feet. You can reach out and touch her. Get her face out of the water.
Mack sounded a little tense but steady as a rock. If Top said she was there, then it didn’t matter that the fog was so thick and the pounding waves drove him against the pillars—she was within reach. He threw both arms out blindly and then searched just beneath the ever-changing surface, ignoring the sound of the boat approaching. He was vulnerable, aware at any moment a shot could take him. He hoped that if he couldn’t see the occupants of the boat, they couldn’t see him.
His fingers brushed an arm, and he gripped it, dragging Rose to him, rolling her over to make certain she was still alive. She coughed, and spit water, but she didn’t open her eyes, tossing her head from side to side and fighting him weakly.
“I’ve got you, Rose,” he reassured her. She seemed drugged, unable to fight her way out of the drug’s hold on her.
He leaned over her to try to make eye contact, and a bullet coming from an unknown direction hit him hard, high up along his shoulder. At first he didn’t feel anything but the sharp sting, and then a burning numbness spread through his arm and chest until he could barely breathe, as if ice encased his upper body, freezing it.
Coming at you. On your right.
Mack and Marc had rigged a pulley and harness on the pier. They tossed the rope as close to him as they could. Brian fought the strength of the crashing waves as the power of the ocean tried to tear Rose from his arms. His boots were weighing him down, adding to the difficulty. In the cold water his body began shivering, a bad sign, but worse if it stopped. He couldn’t afford to go numb, not before he got her out of the water. He tried not to think about Kane or Jacob and how long they’d been in the water. He couldn’t figure out why his left arm refused to obey his commands.
The harness was just feet from him, but seemed a mile. He timed the next wave, kicked strongly, and managed to snag it with his fingertips, draw it to him, and secure it around Rose. Twice water washed over both of them, and he came up choking and coughing. His lungs felt ice-cold, and his movements were slowing. He had no idea of time passing or how long he’d been in the water with the powerful waves battering him.
Rose looked almost blue, but she was breathing, although her heart felt slow to him. Maybe it was just his own heart slowing down. The water was pounding both of them, and it was impossible to see in the fog. The gray vapor wrapped around them, enfolding them in wet mist.
Brian! Stay with Rose, Mack commanded. She is your responsibility, and you cannot fail in your mission. Hold on to that rope and keep her face out of the water.
Brian shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his brain. He couldn’t quite remember how to hold on to the rope. His fingers weren’t cooperating with his brain.
Jaimie, Mack knew his wife was tuned to the telepathic path used for missions. She would be anxious for any news. Tell Eric to set up for surgery. He’ll need to be ready fast. Have Javier bring up a vehicle now.
Roger that. Her voice shook, but she didn’t break protocol.
Brian! Mack put every ounce of command a master gunnery sergeant possessed after years of leading an elite unit of soldiers. Fucking hold on to that rope, soldier.
Brian’s mind felt sluggish. He heard Mack’s command, and he always obeyed Mack out in the field, especially when Mack swore, which was on very rare occasions. Top meant business, and there was no disregarding an order, no matter how difficult. He took hold of the rope, steadying Rose as the next wave took them under. He felt the tug on his arms as Mack and Marc began to pull them steadily through the water toward the pier.
His left arm flopped into the water. He tightened his fingers on the rope, unable to do more than keep Rose’s head from going under, but he didn’t let go, refused, even though he barely knew what was going on, to let Top down. She moved now, obviously semiconscious, knowing something was terribly wrong but unable to focus.
Don’t fight, Brian soothed. Mack’s got us. He’ll get us out of this. Just relax and let him pull us up.
There was a feeble, weak stirring. Kane?
Kane heard Rose’s voice. She sounded weak and very vulnerable. Most of all, she sounded far away, as if she was calling to him from a great distance.
We’ve got her, Kane. Mack’s voice was as steady as ever. He would never lie—Rose had to be all right.
Kane waited until the boat slipped into place at the north end of the pier, just feet away from where the divers had emerged, before surfacing. He realized that the enemy had prepared at least three different exits. Whitney wanted Sebast
ian and Rose and had gone to great lengths to acquire them.
He emerged beside the boat in complete silence. The engine idled while they waited, peering through the fog to try to find their divers and Rose. The dense fog was perfect for hiding them from the shooters on the roof but made it nearly impossible for them to see what was happening in the water.
Kane could hear two men whispering, the words somewhat muffled by the sound of the water beating against the pillars.
“Do you see anything, Randy?”
Kane listened carefully, mapping the exact location of the speaker in the boat. He adjusted his own position so that he was lined up with the man.
“They were just here,” Randy responded, almost hissing.
From his voice, Kane knew Randy was toward the back of the boat and in a sitting position. He took a breath and went into motion, catching the side of the boat with both hands and powering his body into a back somersault, knees to chest until he cleared the side of the boat. As the enemy stood and staggered toward him, Kane exploded his legs straight out, catching his opponent in his gut. Kane was a big man, very muscular, and his strength was enormous. Adrenaline running added to the impact. His enemy went tumbling over the side of the boat, falling backward into the water.
Kane landed hard and rolled toward Randy. The boat rocked crazily, tilting sharply, throwing Randy off balance as he fired his automatic, drilling holes in the side of the boat. Kane hit him hard under the chin as he drove upward, putting his considerable weight behind the blow, and then spinning around to deliver an elbow to the jaw. Randy clung grimly to the weapon, his finger glued to the trigger.
The sound of the gun spitting bullets was deafening inside the blanket of fog. Kane trapped Randy’s wrist, stepping in close to keep the man from turning the weapon toward him. He slammed the wrist back over Randy’s shoulder, forcing his body backward and his feet out from under him. Randy went down, and as he did, Kane ripped the gun from him, turning the weapon back toward his enemy. The bullets created a bloodred zipper up the man’s chest and into his throat.
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