by Anne Renwick
“Sink? We’d not considered that possibility. We’ll have to table this discussion for now.” Logan’s eyes glimmered with plans and backup plans and who knew what else. “Suffice it to say, Mr. Guthrie was good enough to share what he knows of the megalodon’s interior layout.”
Isa gaped at her brother, then swept forward. She scanned the diagrammatic sketches strewn across the surface of the table. “You built a submersible for Uncle Gregor?” Distress laced her voice.
“No,” Mr. Guthrie said. Yet shame hunched his shoulders. “But I may have accidentally helped design its mechanics, though I’ve no idea when or how the biomech aspects were incorporated.” His eyes were downcast. “Uncle Gregor came to me a year ago, wanting to discuss hypotheticals. I produced a few drawings.” He waved his hands at the papers. “A submersible modeled upon the side-to-side swing of a shark’s tail. To generate lift, the top portion of the so-called tail has to slant backward and extend past that of the bottom—”
Logan cleared his throat. “Thank you, Mr. Guthrie, for all your assistance. The information is invaluable. I’ll fill them in later. I wish I could allow you time with your sister, but I’m afraid there are now other pressing matters to which I must attend.”
A corpse, for example.
“A moment.” Isa’s brother crossed to stand before her and spoke in a low voice. “Though Mr. Black informs me you are a valued, if temporary, member of this team, I have serious doubts about allowing you to remain in their custody, particularly given this Scot appears to have asked for your hand in marriage.”
Isa sucked in a breath. “I will marry whomever I choose, Danel. And I’m here of my own free will. I’m not going anywhere.”
Alec met her brother’s stony stare. “I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe.”
“Very well.” Though Mr. Guthrie didn’t look the least bit convinced, he recognized defeat. Pressing an awkward kiss to Isa’s cheek, he said his goodbyes. “Send a pigeon if you change your mind.” The heavy iron door clanged shut behind him.
“Follow me.” Logan turned on his heel.
They marched down the long hallway to the BURR indoor training facility. Without stopping, Logan passed through the gymnasium, ignoring the curious stares of a handful of new recruits, to another hallway—this one tiled. He shoved open the door and waved them all through.
The indoor swimming pool itself was empty, a rarity. Easy to understand why men were foregoing its use. At the side of the pool sat two large, cylindrical glass tanks. A band of iron encircled the rim of each, allowing metal mesh lids to be locked in place. Each tank held a convalescing biomech octopus attended to by Roideach’s former laboratory technician.
“Welcome!” Bright-faced, Miss Lourney greeted them. Hands clasped tightly at her waist, she rocked onto her toes. “The creatures healed remarkably fast once I repaired the tips of the braided wires incorporated within their attachment appendages.” She glanced over her shoulder at the tanks. “So much so that I’ve sedated them. Catching an escaped octopus sporting two barbed legs is remarkably tricky.”
“Legs?” Shaw asked. “I thought octopuses had arms.”
“Not incorrect,” she answered. “Though it’s generally accepted that two appendages function as legs to propel them along the sea floor. In this case, those two limbs have been modified to insert and fuse with the vasculature of a Finn host expressing a blood protein designated factor Q.”
Beside him, Isa shuddered. He caught her hand in his and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.
“Excuse me, Miss Lourney.” Logan interrupted the biology discussion, drawing everyone’s attention. “Time is of the essence. Listen closely. Regardless of how you arrived here, your participation is not mandatory. In fact, it’s probably ill-advised. Major Fernsby is on extended leave. This is a joint operation between BURR and the Queen’s agents involving two civilians. However, you will be working for me, under my command, and Queen’s agents work strictly off the record.”
The BURR team exchanged wary glances.
Logan continued, “If this operation goes bad, we’re buggered. The Queen will disavow all knowledge of our activities. We may well face criminal charges, possibly in the courts of a foreign government. If all goes well, her Majesty will look upon us fondly, but nothing will be committed to paper or placed in our files. Ever.”
The men shifted on their feet. Miss Lourney’s posture grew rigid. Isa, however, lifted her chin. Pride swelled in his chest. Like all his team members, little could make her back down.
“If we do nothing, an attempt will be made to sink a floating castle—along with all its guests and residents—into the North Sea. In our territorial waters. Under our watch. I do not have time to list the political ramifications of such an event.” Logan scanned the room. “If anyone wishes to leave, now is the time.”
The chaos resulting from such death and destruction would keep countries at each other’s throats for months, possibly years. A diplomatic nightmare. Drummond might not wish his fledgling would-be country to become involved in a war, but he might well start one.
No one moved.
“Good.” Logan nodded. “To sum up the situation. A high-ranking man in the British Navy is Finn. He—and those who have aligned themselves with him—regard themselves as a people separate from that of the general Scottish population. For several years, he has fostered a small but growing group of Finn situated on the Faroe Islands. We know his ultimate goal was to wrest control of the islands from Denmark and establish an independent kingdom.”
Isa frowned. “A goal he has been working toward for quite some time.”
“Until the royal wedding upset his plans.” Moray crossed his arms and frowned.
“Exactly. As a wedding gift, the King of Denmark promised Iceland control of the Faroe Islands. To provide his daughter with an appropriate wedding venue and later a residence, he commissioned a floating castle, currently en route to the islands as we speak. The intent is to affix the castle—via complicated engineering techniques—to the Tinganes peninsula adjacent to the capital of Tórshavn.”
“And you collected this information how?” Alec needled his brother.
“As if I would compromise my sources.” Logan fixed his intense gaze upon Isa. “Thank you, Mrs. McQuiston, for meeting with his chosen queen. I’m almost certain it was unpleasant.”
She nodded. In the warm, humid air of the natatorium, tendrils of hair that had escaped Isa’s upsweep began to curl, much like the heat in his loins. Tonight he would twist his finger through its coils and—
“I will inform my superiors of this latest development, but the Queen has indicated that Iceland and Denmark are both dismissive of her concerns.” Logan cleared his throat. “Our basic mission consists of two goals. One, board and take control of the megalodon. Two, prevent Drummond’s OctoFinn from scuttling the floating castle.”
His teammates all swore at once. It might be spring, but it wouldn’t feel like that in the waters of North Sea.
“Do we have any schematics for the castle?” Shaw asked.
“A rough approximation,” Logan answered. “With the help of whisky, one of my men contrived to coax one of the project engineers into boasting about the construction. He wrote down all such details in a notebook. I’ll have it in your hands by morning. Alec, Shaw, Rowan, and Rip. You will function at approved aquaspira breather depths beneath the pontoons that keep the castle afloat. Plan to intercept and disable any OctoFinn and/or explosive devices. Moray and Isa will attempt to board the megalodon.”
His brother glanced at him, and Alec knew. “No,” he said, his voice low and threatening.
“It’s the only chance of rescuing those aboard Drummond’s submersible,” Logan replied, his expression implacable. “No one else can dive that deep. Mr. Guthrie indicated that there are two underwater ports located on the—”
“You want to fuse a biomech octopus to Moray,” Alec con
cluded. It wasn’t a bad idea, but—
“Hell no!” Moray shouted, backing away.
Alec had expected exactly that reaction. What he hadn’t expected was to watch Logan’s gaze once again fall upon Isa.
She paled.
“You can’t be serious,” he said. Fury filled his chest as fratricide became a real possibility. His brother did nothing impulsively. Like a game of chess, he always thought several moves ahead, and that was why the BURR team was assembled in the natatorium beside the tanks of two rescued and repaired biomech octopuses.
His heart slammed against his sternum. Sending Isa into the icy depths of the ocean wasn’t protecting her, it was deliberately placing her in harm’s way. He could feel an artery at his temple begin to throb. He wanted to forbid her participation. The words were on the tip of his tongue when he bit them back. He’d promised to treat her as an equal, but how could he possibly view her as such? Her natural skills were breathtaking, but she lacked any military training.
“Finn men attached to an octopus can easily function at great depths with no worries of equipment failure or decompression sickness.” Logan pressed onward, seemingly unaware of his brother’s skyrocketing blood pressure. “There’s no reason to think a Finn woman less capable. The megalodon need never surface near the castle. How else do you propose we board the submersible?”
Isa placed a hand on Alec’s arm and took a deep, shuddering breath as she stared at the two tanks. “I want to help,” she said in a low voice. “Cold doesn’t affect me, nor will the depth. You’ve seen me swim. I can do this.” Stiffening her back, she faced Logan. “I’m in.”
Shaw and Rowan jostled Moray with their elbows, taunting him under their breath.
Moray’s response blistered even Alec’s ears. “Fine,” he spat out, his face red.
“There is a reason only men serve on the BURR teams.” Alec had to raise his voice to be heard over the ruckus. “In case your keen observational skills missed it, my fiancée is a woman. She lacks the physical strength to open a submersible port from the outside. She has no weapons training.”
“I escaped that OctoFinn, did I not, wielding nothing more than a dive knife?” Isa threw him a glare, then huffed. “I can learn to fire a pistol. Moray can open the hatch and steer. That megalodon is filled with my people, with women and children, hostages to make the men cooperate. There’s not a chance in the world I’m staying behind.” Frowning, she stepped away from him. “If you can’t handle working with a civilian female, I’ll work with Aron. He knows the full value of a Finn woman’s abilities.”
Oh, hell no. There was not the faintest chance of that happening. Crossing his arms over his chest, he blew out a long, rough breath as he struggled to reconcile himself. It didn’t work. Still, he had no choice. “Fine. I’ll support you. But only if you agree to an intensive training session wherein you learn the bare basics about how to pilot a submersible.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
THE MOMENT OF INSERTION was upon them.
Wearing nothing but a flimsy, sleeveless chemise beneath a dressing gown, Isa curled her bare toes over the rough cement edge of the BURR training pool and stared at the two biomech octopuses slinking about beneath the water. Under Miss Lourney’s close supervision, buckets of salt and a large, noisy aerator had turned the pool into an enormous aquarium.
“They seem hungry,” she murmured, watching the way they paced back and forth upon their tentacles, their eyes constantly scanning. One stopped moving, fixing its slitty-eyed gaze on her.
“They are,” Miss Lourney agreed. “Lobster—and other offerings—failed to satisfy them. Sausage casings filled with sheep’s blood settled them some but—” Her sideways glance held a note of apology. “I expect they’ve developed a taste for Finn.”
Isa’s stomach flipped and sank to her knees. She didn’t relish being thought of as a food source. The thought of letting that horrid creature touch her, of allowing it to fuse with her cardiovascular system gave her nightmares.
She glanced at Alec who stood beside her. And she worried harboring this parasite would drive the wedge between them even deeper. He’d grown distant and tense, all while imparting a barrage of details concerning submersible operations. Somewhere in the fifth hour of lectures her brain had all but shut down, refusing to absorb any additional material. A fact that Alec discovered while quizzing her.
A few feet away, Aron swore. “The things I do for my country. For my people.”
From the moment he’d agreed to raid the megalodon, every other word from his mouth had been profane, and she concurred with every sentiment.
“You don’t have to do this.” Alec squeezed her hand. “We’ll catch Drummond another way. Or Moray can handle it alone.”
“Moray prefers backup.” Aron slanted him a look. “Finn are not infallible.”
Too true. “I’m going,” she said simply. There was no need to say more. Repeated discussion had exhausted the topic. Besides, fear had all but stolen her ability to speak.
Pouring for hours over pages upon pages of schematics, the BURR men had drawn a number of conclusions. One, that despite being a marvel of Danish engineering, the floating castle could easily be scuttled with the detonation of a number of well-placed explosives attached to the pontoons that held it aloft. Two, releasing the OctoFinn from the megalodon would be best accomplished by positioning the submersible directly beneath the castle at a depth of one hundred and fifty feet—fifty meters—well below aquaspira depths.
The exit of the OctoFinn would provide an infinitesimally narrow window of opportunity for Aron and her to board the megalodon. While they attempted this daring feat, the remaining BURR men would patrol the pontoons, disabling explosives and OctoFinn.
Individual assignments were given, plans were drawn up, reports were issued—only to be shredded and tossed aside for a better scheme, the process repeating itself until everyone was satisfied. Except Alec. There were dark circles under his eyes, ones she’d put there. Isa hated that she was the cause, but she was determined to see this through.
She felt responsible for the entire situation. Without her research into Finn blood factors, biomech octopuses wouldn’t exist. There would be no OctoFinn, no captive women and children aboard a megalodon. An international alliance would have no reason to fear an underwater attack.
Not that Iceland or Denmark had taken Mr. Black’s warnings seriously. Selkies were mythological creatures. No, they would not evacuate the floating castle or delay the wedding. Had Queen Victoria lost her mind?
Aron tugged off his dressing gown and, wearing nothing but a pair of drawstring drawers, beckoned to Miss Lourney. “Do it.”
Miss Lourney flushed bright pink at his near nudity—or was it appreciation for Aron’s muscular form?—but she bent close, applying scalpel to skin. She made tiny nicks above his axillary artery and femoral vein. Aron barely flinched. The hope was that the scent of blood would guide the biomech octopus, helping it to attach quickly and accurately.
With a final string of searing expletives, he dove into the pool. The octopuses immediately moved in his direction.
Isa quickly shed her robe, lifting the hem of her chemise. Aron did not need two octopuses simultaneously attempting to attach to him.
Miss Lourney made two shallow cuts. “Good luck.”
“Opposite ends of the pool,” Alec growled, clearly unhappy with the thought of anyone else glimpsing her nearly naked form, especially Aron.
Some dark, primitive part of her relished Alec’s absurd, simmering jealousy.
He had insisted upon bathing suits, and Moray had laughed so hard he almost stopped breathing. Isa pointed out that clothing would impede the attachment process. Prudish, Scottish morals were finally satisfied with a bare minimum of underclothes.
She pulled the pearl ring from her finger and pressed it into Alec’s palm, curling his fingers about it. “Keep it safe for me,” she whispered, find
ing it impossible to say more. If only they’d had more time to sort out their feelings without the constant weight of everyone’s eyes upon them.
He frowned. “Don’t do this. Please. Too many things can go wrong. I want—”
Raising onto the tips of her toes, she stopped his words with the gentle press of her lips. She wanted too. Wanted to promise him everything. Love. A future. A family. But she wouldn’t promise him a future she wasn’t certain she had.
Perhaps there were other, more qualified Finn men in the Navy who could take her place, to risk their lives in her stead. But time was limited—it was impossible to know who might be allied with her uncle or under the scrutiny of Commander Norgrove—and this was personal. Her uncle had stolen her life, her research, even her husband. Everything. She intended to wrest back whatever she could manage, to fight for a future on her own terms.
She ran her palm slowly down the side of Alec’s rough, bristled cheek as he returned her kiss. Did she dare hope love was the motivation behind his almost-proposal? Did she dare place the care of her heart in another man’s hands? Searching out those answers would have to wait, but when this was over she would do her best to find out.
Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the pool. Hanging in the water fully submerged, Isa opened her eyes. A biomech octopus turned on his tentacle tips and began to slink in her direction. Surfacing, she swam to the side of the pool and grabbed hold of the ladder, gripping its rungs and bracing for the first tentative touch that would signal its arrival. She gritted her teeth against the bad memories of being held captive in Lord Roideach’s tank, of Thomas’s stick.
Hungry for blood, the creature wasted no time. Within minutes, its heavy weight settled upon her back, wrapping cold, suckered tentacles about her neck and waist. A tentacle twined about her thigh, tapping. Isa closed her eyes, fighting a desire to flee.
“One word,” Alec said through gritted teeth as he crouched beside the pool. “And I will end it.”
