by Ronie Kendig
“We’re pulling out.” Cole stood on the aft skiff with Brody and Nielsen.
“You can’t be serious.” Reece panted from the swim but drew himself up. “She's down there with her father!”
Frowning, Brody looked away. “Reece, listen. I don’t know how to say this any other way. They couldn’t have survived. They’re probably dead.”
“No!” He fisted a hand. “She's alive. And I’m not giving up on her.”
“She did what Jude asked her to do—she entered counter codes, which neutralized the nuke. There's nothing left to do here, and we can’t waste manpower.”
“I’m not leaving. If you take the men, you guarantee her death—and that of one of your top operatives.”
Brow knitted and dark circles under his eyes, Toby looked forlorn. “I don’t like this either, Reece, but we’ve found evidence connecting the Agreed to the violence in the Kashmiri Mountains. In light of the tense relations, it's vital we do this—now.”
“Hate to say it, Chief, but he's right,” Cole said. “They’ve been terrorizing the villages near the camp for years. We have one shot to take this down before they know what hit them.”
“How many times have you said one life for thousands?” Nielsen sighed. “Well, we have to save thousands, possibly millions, of lives.”
Reece couldn’t argue. He glanced up as a suit escorted Mahmud to a flight of stairs. The man held something in his hand and strained down to see as he moved his thumb.
Reece's pulse spiked. He leapt up, caught the upper balcony, and hauled himself up over the rail. “Mahmud!” He dove into the man.
In those seconds, Reece saw a light spinning out of the man's hand across the deck.
He pinned Mahmud. Scuffled. The man threw a fist. Reece nailed him with a right hook and knocked him out cold. The guy wouldn’t hurt anyone else.
Reece pushed off and scrabbled across the deck to the device. He picked it up—and moaned.
“What is it?” Friction raced toward him from the stairwell.
Propped against the wall, Reece held up the black device. “Twenty minutes.” He pushed off the wall and headed to the bridge of the ship to access the computer maps.
Where would they have planted a bomb? Was that where Shiloh went? As he thought and trudged through his memory banks, he felt a presence behind him.
“Where do we start?” Friction moved to the opposite side. The blue-white glow of the backlit map cast ominous shadows over his face.
“If we had unlimited time, I’d say work the grid, piece by piece.”
Dark brown eyes came to Reece's. “That's a million-five square miles of water surface.”
“Exactly.”
“You a praying man, Mr. Jaxon?”
“I am.”
“Then start praying. Because only a miracle will find my brother and niece.”
Reece couldn’t help the grin. “I’ve been telling God that for a few days.”
Friction paused. Smiled. Laughed as he raised his hands. “And look who He sent you.”
“So, guardian angel, what do we do?”
“Find out what's of interest to jihadists.”
“People. Banks. Trains.”
In the distance a lengthy horn blew through the darkness.
Their gazes rammed into each other. “Oil.”
32
RED IS DEAD. THE METER HAD DROPPED TO THE LAST MARK IN THE RED. With hand signals, she promised her father she’d find a way to come back, but they had to get to the air in the underwater caves first.
When her hand grazed a rare patch of coral, her heart alighted. She was in the right area. But now … now the trick of finding the right opening.
Coral scraped her fingers and dug into her flesh as she used the small shelf to pull herself toward the cave opening. Arm anchored around her father, Shiloh resisted the demand of her body to take a deep breath. Come on, come on! Where are you?
The shelf rose. Yes! Shiloh readjusted her hold, and in that instant, her father jolted. His arms flailed out. Legs kicked. Bubbles flourished under his rapid movements. He thrashed against her and spun away.
She lunged at him and curled her fingers into his shirt. Dragged him back down. Swam hard toward the opening. If she didn’t hurry, it’d be too late. Beating her legs faster she could only pray. God! God, help us!
What if Reece didn’t remember about the caves?
As she paddled downward, she lured her father around to the right, aiming for the spot where she’d found that pocket of air last month. From behind, she locked her arms around him and propelled them into the gap. Rocks scratched and clawed at them as she maneuvered through the small opening. A sliver of pain sliced down her thigh. She clenched her jaw but kept moving. She had to volley them up. Harder. More.
They broke the surface. Shiloh gasped. Greedily gulped the air. But no time to savor it. She adjusted her father, tilting his head back so he faced the roof. She yanked her hands into his abdomen and drew him against her chest. Both of their heads hit the cave ceiling. She repeated the thrust to evacuate his lungs. Nothing. Just the disturbance of the water.
“Dad!” She pulled upward into his lungs again. And again. Her whimper ricocheted off the limestone like the glow of the regulator dial in the pitch-black dome. “Dad, please.”
Water finally burst from his mouth. He coughed. Gagged. His head lobbed backward, smacking her cheek. Pain darted down her jaw and neck, but she relished the feel of his chest bulging against her arms.
She released him. “Dad?”
“I …” He coughed. “I’m here.” With a trembling hand, he reached for an outcropping and kept himself afloat. Forehead propped against his arm, he sucked in several long, painful-sounding breaths. “The bomb. Have … to … the bomb.”
She’d never seen him so frail. So expended. “Dad, we can’t. There's nothing we can do. It's too far away. We can’t swim in time to disable it.”
Shiloh swallowed hard. They were trapped, and the explosion would bury them at sea.
“Save the light,” he rasped.
She twisted off the lamp on the tank and let darkness descend to save the battery, to save her from having to face the reality of his near-death experience.
“Is this the only cave?” he asked, clearing his throat.
“No, there's a system. A beautiful one fifty yards back that Khalid and I loved to explore.”
“We need to get there.”
“You can’t. You nearly died.”
“I’ve been through worse.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t!”
His ragged breath echoed in the confined space. “Give me … few … need to try for … the bigger cave.”
Of all the thick-headed— “Why do you have to push so hard?” Surprised at her burst of anger, she reeled it in. Told herself it was the adrenaline bottoming out.
“No.” His eyes drooped. “Bigger cave … safer if bomb …”
It made sense but also scared her. Could they reach that cave without nitrox? She might be able to, but he certainly couldn’t. Quiet descended as if pounding in the reality of their situation. Shiloh braced herself against the ledge. But with each passing second, the quiet grew louder. She strained to hear her father's breathing in the void that held them hostage.
Was he still alive? Water sloshed as she lifted a hand toward him. Fingers grazed flesh. Cold, wet flesh.
“Need … go.”
A shiver snaked through her body as the cold water clung to her, chilling her skin. He just didn’t quit, did he? “Dad—”
“No.” He grunted. “Have to … the … bomb.”
“I know. But we can’t do anything yet. Just …” If they tried to swim this soon after the trauma, he might not make it. But staying here put them at risk from the bomb.
Either way, he was dead.
I am not going to let my father die. “Okay.” She drifted closer. “Let's use the tank to tether us together.”
“Good thinking.”
> Teased with his praise, she unthreaded one strap of the tank from her shoulder and guided his hand and arm through it. She winced as something pinched against her leg.
“Okay, let's go.”
“Butcher Island.”
“Oil refinery,” Friction said as he hacked into the computer network on the yacht and quickly drew up maps of the piping. “Wow, that's a lot of plumbing.”
“Too much to cover in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll send my team now. But …” Friction's gaze came to his. “Think they’re still down there?”
“Yes.” And that ate at him. He ground his teeth together. “She had a reason for going down, I just don’t know what. Is she aware you’re here?”
“Hopefully, neither of them have any knowledge of my presence in the area.” Friction leaned against the table as he relayed orders to the team, then glanced at the map. “And actually, my identity as Jude's brother is a national secret kept by high command. I haven’t talked with Shiloh since her tenth birthday.”
“Seems rifts run in the family.”
Friction laughed. “You know us well, then?”
Reece paused. “How’d you know they were in this situation?”
“My position within the agency grants me certain access.”
“Ah, spying on your niece.”
“Let's call it protective monitoring.”
“Want to explain why you chose to surface now that they’re in mortal danger?”
A smile crinkled Friction's dark eyes. “Sorry, I don’t cave under interrogation.”
“Interro—” Reece froze. Wait. Cave. Like a vacuum sucking him into its void, he stared at a series of circles on the map. “She took him to the caves!”
33
I DON’T WANT TO DIE! WHAT IDIOT WOULD ATTEMPT ANOTHER TREACHERous journey through dangerous depths to get from one cave to another? Apparently, Shiloh. What a way to die—leading her father through black waters to a cave where they could lie down and die. With no food, no oxygen, no—nothing!—die was all they could do.
As they crept over more rocks, Shiloh angled her shoulder so the light on the dial hit right. There. The opening to the Mammoth, as Khalid had called it. Coming down here had been a totally different adventure with him and the proper dive equipment. Now she was fighting for her life, petrified her father would be given up to the watery depths.
His grasp on her shoulder tightened.
At the silent signal, she swam faster. Through the opening. And jutted upward.
They broke water, gasping. She scrambled for the dry ground. The limestone sloughed off and scraped her knees. She didn’t care. They’d made it!
He crawled to a large, flat rock and slumped onto it, holding his shoulder. “I knew … you could do it.”
Swallowing, she wet the roof of her mouth. As she flopped onto her back, cool water lapped at her ears and chin. Her breathing slowly returned to normal. Her stomach rumbled.
“This doesn’t make sense.” She cupped a hand over her forehead. “We’re farther into the caves. Farther away from help. We have no food. No supplies. And Reece probably has no idea where we are.”
“I met Reece about five years ago.”
Shiloh paused, not surprised he’d completely evaded her objections.
“He sat through several lectures I gave at Langley.”
She didn’t want to think about Reece, didn’t want to think about never seeing him again. “Dad—do we really need to talk about this?”
Her father eased himself down and let out a relieved sigh. “Graduated top of his class. I think he actually made a couple of perfect scores and scared the Academy spitless.”
“He does that to everyone.”
Her father laughed, a wonderful sound, even though its weakness bounced off the cave walls. “A few years later … on a complicated mission … I tapped Reece.” He lay quietly for a while, then continued. “He did it. Pulled it off . Like a pro. But … in debrief … he got mad, lips flat, eyebrows tight.”
Shiloh couldn’t help but smile. She’d seen that look more than once.
He drew in a ragged breath. “Asked him what … wrong.” A gurgled chuckle echoed around them. “He quoted my lecture, verbatim. Told me I was either wrong before or I was lying right then.” He panted as though out of breath.
Shiloh rolled her head to the side, concerned at the way her father panted from the effort of just talking. The glow of the lamp enabled her to see his smiling profile.
He coughed, his chest seizing. “Vowed to drop … if I didn’t come clean. ‘I can deal with half-truths, but not lies, not from the man I want to imitate,’ he said.” Her father swept his wet hair from his face. “I’d never had a trainee … call me out like that.”
She relaxed a little at the way he’d been able to finish that sentence. Maybe he was okay. “Is there a point to this walk down memory lane?” Although she taunted him, Shiloh was enjoying the story, glad her father thought so highly of Reece. Yet part of her flirted with jealousy that Reece had had more interaction with her father than she had in the last fifteen years.
He gave her a pointed stare. “Reece loves you, right?”
On her back again, Shiloh licked her lips and tasted the salty sea. “Wh—Are you going somewhere with this?”
“Aren’t I always?”
She couldn’t help the smile. “Okay, yes, Reece said he loved me.”
“Then don’t doubt him. If he could remember something from my lectures two years prior … he’ll remember … conversation you’ve had in the last few months.”
Kneading warmth spread through her chest at his words, infusing her with a solid dose of hope. Yeah. Her dad was right. “So you think he’ll figure out about the caves?”
“Mm …”
Shiloh peeked at him, confused by his distant answer. “Dad?”
He didn’t respond.
“Dad?” She stumbled to her feet and slogged toward him. “Dad, are you okay?”
Nothing.
“Dad!” Shiloh nudged his shoulder. She pressed her fingers against his neck—startled at the chill of his flesh. A faint pulse.“Please, Dad … just hold on.” He looked pale. Or was that from the blue lamp light?
Shiloh lifted his arm around her shoulder and burrowed against his side, hoping to keep both of them warm. She realized that in that dark moment God had given her something she’d longed for since she was a little girl—to be in her daddy's arms.
But what if he died—left her alone in this cave? Cuddled against him, she closed her mind against the stillness and fear. Amid the repetitive dripping of water, she was carried back to her childhood. A night when her mother placed her hands over Shiloh's steepled hands.
The Lord is my shepherd
I shall not want
He makes me lie down
Beside the still waters …
Voices scampered through her dreams, tugging at her. Shiloh sat up. The images floated in and out. Dark ones— the careening of her life as her mother died. Odd ones—her father as he sat alone in his bedroom with her mother's picture. New ones—when Reece laughed and chased her through the waters of the bay. A large splash. Water spraying a thousand tiny droplet images across her face.
A bright light stunned her. She winced and turned away.
“Shiloh!”
Hand shielding her face, she glanced over her shoulder. Blurry vision confused her.
“Shiloh. Thank God!”
Again, she blinked. This time, Reece's face loomed before her. She gasped. Was it really him? She reached for him. Touched his dive suit and cold face. “Reece?” She tried to shake the cobwebs from her mind. “Am I dreaming?”
A regulator dangled below his smile. “Do I look that good?”
With a guttural cry, she grabbed him and yanked herself into his embrace, arms tight around his neck. “You remembered. You came.” Then she shoved him back. “We have to get out of here. There's a bomb.”
“Wait,” one of the other m
en said. “You saw it?”
Shiloh looked at him and blinked. “Uncle Shaun?”
“Shi, the bomb. Where did you see it?”
“Above the caves.” She brushed her hair from her face. “On one of the pipes leading from Butcher.”
After securing a mask and tank to her father's unconscious form, Shaun hoisted him toward the water and looked at Reece. “Can you take care of that?”
“On it.” He off-loaded a secondary tank and helped her into the straps. “I want you to take me to it. Once I see it,” he said as he slipped a dive mask and regulator over her head, “I want you to make for the surface.”
And leave him?
“I mean it, Shiloh.”
She stuffed the regulator in her mouth and dove into the water. Within seconds, they cleared the main entrance to the cave. A heavy wave stirred around her. Bright and steady, a beam of light sliced through the dark waters overhead. In the dispersed beam and murky water her uncle and father headed to safety.
Reece swam up next to her with a dive prop, the engine churning the waters. With two fingers, he tapped his watch. In other words, they were running out of time.
She grabbed the handle of the prop and pointed in the direction of the burdened pipe. With the motorized propellant, they made the site within minutes. Reece approached the device carefully, motioning her back.
Keeping her distance, Shiloh watched him. Amazement and admiration rippled through her with an unnatural dose of fear. She didn’t want to die. Maybe there’d been a time not too long ago she wouldn’t have cared, but now that she had Reece and she’d made her peace with her father, she wanted to live. Wanted Reece to live.
Yet there he treaded water, laboring over an explosive that could blow them both to heaven in the blink of an eye. God, protect him!
He swirled toward her. Shook his head. Behind the mask, she saw the worry in his eyes.
They were going to die?
No. They weren’t. An idea lit into her. She tapped Reece, made a few hand signals. At first, he objected. But he reconsidered.
With great care, he freed the bomb straps from the 8-inch pipe. Together, they secured it to the dive prop, using delicate moves to fasten the straps and tighten them. If they couldn’t get it to stop, then they could scuttle it into the deep ocean. No one would get killed, and the city would be safe.
