Ivanov looked away.
“Brace yourself, Talia.” Finn gave the helmet a forceful twist, and it came free. He let it drop to the floor.
“Hey. Don’t I need that?”
“Not anymore. Looks like Ivanov tore the main valve from your collar. The gap’s so big, you’d never hear the leak. Your suit is useless.”
Talia had heard a thock when Ivanov helped her with the helmet. His never made that sound. She should have guessed. But an hour ago, she had still trusted him.
Finn nodded at a panel on her left arm, covered by a Velcro flap. “Check your gauge.”
She ripped the flap back. The oxygen readout showed zero.
“If he’d blown the seal, you’d have died, whether you managed to stay on the Mark Seven or not.” He gave her a wink. “Good thing I was here.”
“One more offense for Mr. Ivanov’s trial.” Tyler laid a firm hand on the back of Ivanov’s neck and steered him across the deck to the control section—a pair of terminals, each with a monitor and fold-down keyboard. He positioned Ivanov in front of the starboard terminal and folded the keyboard down to expose a flush microphone and a pair of lighted buttons. “Before we lock you up, we need some information. Use your voice ID pass code. Unlock the data vault.”
“No.”
“How aboot a little motivation, eh?” Mac raised his machine gun. “Let me give him a once-over with these fancy clay roonds.”
“You’re not helping.” Tyler waved the Scotsman off, earning a sour look. “Pass code, Pavel. Now.”
“Never.” Ivanov ducked out of Tyler’s grasp and backed away. “I will not help you steal my designs. You will fail, as that woman masquerading as my aide failed. She died in vain.”
“No. She didn’t.” Tyler produced a smartphone and tapped the screen with his thumb. A recording of Ivanov’s voice came through crystal clear in the quiet of the airship.
“Portia, Aria, Natasha.”
Talia blanched at the way Ivanov’s recorded self spoke each name. “Women? Really, Pavel?” She remembered Val’s assessment of the man. She should have listened
Ivanov looked stricken. “I never gave your con woman my code words.”
“You did.” Tyler tapped the screen again, watching Ivanov’s reaction.
“Portia, Natasha, Aria.”
“And what’s even better, you wanted to.”
Finn coughed, reclining against a rack of servers on the other side of the deck. “You see, Dr. Ivanov, passwords are an aberration, a collision between human nature and the digital age. Our minds don’t want to keep secrets. But today, we keep so many secrets in the form of passwords that our minds have become overloaded.”
“It’s true.” Tyler waggled the smartphone at Ivanov. “Phones, apps, bank accounts, work accounts—we’ve created such a mental logjam that our subconscious selves yearn to be unburdened. With a little directed conversation, Val unburdened yours.”
“She wasted her time.” Ivanov crossed his arms. “You may have the names, but you do not have the correct order for the voice identification. There are six possible combinations. Two failed attempts and Gryphon will lock down the system.”
“Four combinations, actually,” Tyler said, punching a button on the panel with the barrel of his Glock. “I’ve played two of them so far, and your reactions told me all I needed to know.”
Mac held up two fingers. “That’s a two-in-four chance—fefty-fefty.” Talia glanced at him, and he shrugged, bobbing his weapon. “I was always good at the maths.”
Finn just rolled his eyes.
An LED on the panel turned yellow, and Tyler played the next combination.
“Natasha, Portia, Aria.”
The LED turned red and a feminine digital voice answered back in Romanian—probably a warning that another wrong pass code would lock down Gryphon’s servers.
Ivanov smiled. “Now it is one chance in three. Your odds are shrinking.”
“An acceptable risk.” Tyler played the next combination.
“Natasha, Aria—”
“Stop!” Ivanov shouted over his own voice, interrupting the code.
They all went quiet. Talia held her breath, waiting for the LED to turn red.
It never changed.
Finn strolled across the flight deck, slowly clapping. “We have a winner.”
“What is happening?” Ivanov stumbled to the side as the Aussie brushed past him. “Why isn’t Gryphon locking down?”
The Aussie ripped the entire voice ID panel off the bulkhead. There was a matching panel underneath with small pieces of hastily applied Velcro in each corner. Finn lightly rapped Ivanov’s face shield with the piece he had torn off. “Fake panel. Did you think I came up here early just for the view?”
Talia laughed. They had conned Ivanov into revealing the correct order of the code words.
“Thanks for your cooperation.” The Aussie tossed the fake panel aside. “Worst-case scenario, we’d have eliminated all but two combinations. That’s two combos for two chances, which is . . .”
Mac raised a hand. “A one hundred percent certainty.”
Finn winked at Ivanov. “He’s good at the maths.”
“Hilarious.” Tyler punched the button on the real voice ID panel. “Keep him quiet this time. We can’t have him fouling up the voiceprint.” He waited for Mac and Finn to drag the CEO away and played the same recording over.
“Natasha, Aria, Portia.”
“No!” Ivanov screamed, but Finn had covered the speaker on the collar of his suit.
The LED turned green. The monitor flickered on, showing the Gryphon logo set against a sky-blue background. Tyler plugged a thick, rubber-coated antenna into the keyboard’s data port. “Red Leader, she’s all yours.”
Red Leader. Eddie. Tyler was using an earpiece, talking through the team’s SATCOM net. Talia took an involuntary step forward. “Eddie?”
Finn held her back. “Your boy’s all right. He heard you. Says he’s okay. Turns out he really shines when the pressure’s on.”
“He does,” Talia said with a little laugh. “I never really thought about it before, but he sure does.”
The logo disappeared and a command prompt came up. Lines of code flew across the screen as if typed by a ghost. The ghost hit enter, and reams of data flowed.
Tyler nodded. “We’ve got it.”
As he spoke, the storm outside intensified. There was an enormous crack. Blinding purple light filled every portal. Gryphon’s deck dropped beneath their feet.
Everyone on board stumbled, but Ivanov used the momentum of his fall to fling himself at Tyler. Both men fell to the deck. The Glock skittered across the floor.
Chapter
sixty-
four
GRYPHON DATA VAULT
LOWER MESOSPHERE
TALIA MADE A RUN for the Glock—her Glock—but Ivanov got to it first. He scrambled to his feet, leveling it at her chest.
Tyler raised his machine gun, glaring down the sights at the CEO, and Mac followed his lead.
“Lower your weapons.” Ivanov shifted his aim to Tyler to stop an advance, then back to Talia. “Your shots may cripple me for a moment, but my shots will surely end her life.”
Tyler held his aim for a few seconds longer, then signaled to Mac. Both men lowered their guns.
“Good. Now stop the transfer.”
“Can’t,” Tyler said. “It’s done.” He cast a glance at the monitor. “Red Leader, final protocol. Now.”
A new line of code appeared on the screen. In sequence, the lights of every server in Gryphon flashed red, then extinguished. The monitor went blank.
“Aaagggh!” Ivanov cried out, pressing the Glock toward Talia, finger tight around the trigger. Mac moved to flank him, but Ivanov moved as well. He stepped around Talia in an arc, working his way toward the docking hatch. “You have not stopped me. I still have the prototype. My buyers will see its power. They will bid. The winner will pay.”
Tyler track
ed him with his sights. “We wiped the servers. You have no designs to give them.”
“You know nothing.”
“Why, Pavel?” Talia tried to distract him with the question, to help the others move in. Gryphon could not make a controlled descent out of the mesosphere without the Mark Seven to act as tug. If Ivanov reached the docking hatch, he could strand them all. “Thousands of people in Washington, DC. Will you kill them for a quick payday?”
He snorted. “You do not see the bigger picture. To be fair, neither did I until a high-level operative in the CIA brought me the plan.”
Talia must have flinched at the mention of the Agency, because Ivanov’s expression changed. “Oh, I see.” He laughed, turning the Glock over and back. “Now it makes sense. You are from the CIA. How did I not see this? My commendations on a part well played. And since you and my contact share an employer, perhaps you will like what you’re about to hear.”
Mac took another step toward the hatch.
So did Ivanov. He pointed the Glock at the Scotsman to stop his movement. “Don’t. I see what you are doing.” He returned his aim to Talia. “The United States has fallen behind in the hypersonic arms race. My contact, a true believer and patriot familiar with Visser’s work, would gladly sacrifice a few thousand in your capital to save hundreds of millions more.”
“I don’t understand.” Talia risked another step. She would be within arm’s reach in two more paces.
“Don’t you? My prototype will hit Washington, DC, anonymous and unclaimed. The United States will have no choice but to dump their defense budget into hypersonic development.”
Tyler closed as well. “And your friend in the CIA promised you the contracts, is that it?” The four of them—Talia, Tyler, Mac, and Finn—had cinched the net down to a few meters.
“Just so. We are talking about years at the crest of a new arms race. My contact wants to save your country from itself.” Ivanov shrugged one shoulder. “I just want the money.”
Mac lowered his barrel a few degrees. “How much money?”
“What?” Ivanov asked.
“Come again?” Tyler asked at the same time.
Mac turned his weapon on Tyler, sidestepping closer to Ivanov. He glanced at the CEO. “How much money? Gev me a figure, lad. And hurry up.”
A grin spread across Ivanov’s face. “Billions. How would you like to have an annual salary that rivals the gross domestic product of Liechtenstein?”
Mac let out a gruff laugh. “I’d like that very much.”
“I’ll hunt you down,” Tyler growled. “Remember who you’re dealing with.”
“A man gone soft, that’s what I see. Also”—he shrugged—“a man we’re about to leave for dead on a glorified hot air balloon.” Mac gave a head tilt toward Ivanov. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
The Scotsman raised his eyebrows at Tyler. “You should’ve told me the whole plan from the start.”
“You wouldn’t have come.”
“Too true.”
“Mac, please,” Talia said. “Think about this. That missile has the explosive yield of a ten-kiloton nuclear weapon. Thousands will die.”
Ivanov backed toward the vertical shaft of the docking port. His right heel hung over the edge. “His bank account will ease his conscience, I assure you.”
“No it won’t.” Tyler ignored the CEO, keeping his focus on the Scotsman. “Ask yourself what kind of man you want to be, Mac. Because once you cross that line, no comfort this world can provide will ease the burden on your soul.”
Talia stared at Tyler, both hearing and seeing the burden he spoke of. No comfort this world can provide. When her gaze returned to Mac, his eyes were distant. Tyler had gotten to him.
The Scotsman blinked and shook his head, grip tightening on his weapon.
“Good,” Ivanov said. “Now, it is time to leave. You and I have a missile to launch.” He switched hands with the Glock to keep Talia covered and stepped down onto the ladder.
Tyler cocked his head, a deep warning in his tone. “Mac . . .”
The Scotsman gritted his teeth, scrunched up his nose, and then turned on Ivanov and fired.
Tyler fired as well. Ivanov screamed in pain, but he stayed upright through the hail of projectiles, eyes fierce.
Talia lunged for the Glock.
The CEO pulled the trigger, and Mac went down. Finn ran to help him.
Talia’s hands closed around Ivanov’s wrist and forearm before he could shift his aim to Tyler. His next two shots flew wild and then the Glock clicked. He kept pulling the trigger. Click, click, click.
“It’s empty!” Talia fought to keep hold of his arm. “Give up!”
Ivanov stopped flailing.
With the exception of Mac’s groans, the deck went quiet.
Ivanov looked Talia in the eye and let his feet slip from the ladder, so that gravity overcame Talia’s grip. He dropped through the shaft. On the way down, he caught the emergency release handle and blew the seal.
Chapter
sixty-
five
GRYPHON DATA VAULT
LOWER MESOSPHERE
A FORCE like none she had ever experienced sucked the air out of Talia’s lungs.
The same force tried to yank her through the hatch, but an opposing power held her fast in a strange tug-of-war. She gasped for air in empty hiccups she could not control. Her tongue felt dry and effervescent at the same time. Her eyes went as cold as ice in a tearless blur. There were bangs, crashes, and shouts, but they all seemed far away.
The opposing force won the tug-of-war and dragged her across the deck, still gasping with those horrible empty hiccups. A door slammed. A misty flood of pressure threatened to collapse her eardrums. In tiny but growing victories, her gasps pulled air into her lungs.
Tears returned to Talia’s eyes. She blinked them away to find herself trapped behind the polycarbonate door of Gryphon’s emergency pressure chamber. Tyler stood on the other side, hands flat against the pane. His face was drawn, eyes vacant. His helmet hung useless from his belt. He had not taken the time to put it on before shoving her into the pressure chamber, and now she feared he no longer had the cognizance to use it.
Talia jerked at the handle, but the pressure-locked door wouldn’t budge. “Tyler!”
At the sound of her voice, his lips, thin and blue, spread into a flat smile, and he collapsed.
“Tyler! Tyler!” Talia pounded on the door, crying for this man she had sworn to kill.
Finn appeared, wearing his chipped mask. He knelt beside Tyler, and in short order he had the helmet in place. Talia wondered if it would matter. He had to get Tyler’s lungs working again. She slapped the polycarbonate. “Finn! Overpressure! Turn his air on full blast. Force it into his lungs.”
The Aussie nodded his understanding and grabbed Tyler’s forearm. He tapped furiously at the suit’s control pad. “Got it! Air’s flowing.”
“Good. Now tilt his head back and open his airway.”
Finn complied, but frost was forming on the inside of her door, making it hard for Talia to see. She rubbed it away with her sleeve and waited. “Is it working?”
“Give it a moment.”
They both watched for some sign of breathing. The quiet seemed to last forever.
Finn shook his head. “It’s been too long. I’m starting CPR.” He centered his palms on Tyler’s ribs and rose up in preparation for the first hard pump.
Tyler threw him clear with a punch to the chest. He bolted upright, sucking in a deep breath. “What are you trying to do, break my ribs?”
“You weren’t . . . breathing, . . . mate.” Finn rolled onto his side and clutched his chest where Tyler had struck him.
Tyler stood, yanking Finn to his feet at the same time, and held up his suit’s control pad. He swiped the screen. A digital heart flashed on the next page, with big red numbers rising through ninety-seven. “Next time, check for a pulse.”
“Don’t worry boot me, l
ads. I’m fine.” Mac had managed to get his helmet on, but blood darkened the left leg of his suit. A trail of vapor rose from the hole. “Traded a billion dollars for a gunshot wound, that’s all.”
“I saw the hit when it happened.” Finn laid his hardened-shell backpack down beside the Scotsman and began fishing around inside. “The shot went clean through—wrong side of the leg for the artery. I’m less worried about the hole in your leg as I am the hole in your suit.” He pulled out a roll of duct tape. “I shouldn’t help you, mate. You were ready to sell us out.”
“It was quite a lot of mooney, lad, but I couldn’t shake what Lukon said aboot the burden on my soul.”
“That’s good news, mate.” Finn finished his work and patted the wound, making the Scotsman wince. “Sounds like you’ve turned a corner.”
Through the whole exchange, Tyler kept his gaze locked on Talia. His eyes asked, Are we okay? They weren’t, not as far as she was concerned, but at that moment, she needed him to help her stop Ivanov. She gave him a subtle nod.
Tyler nodded and went to the second control station, flipped down a keyboard, and pulled an extension with a full-size joystick out from the compartment behind it. He pointed at Finn. “Get Mr. Plucket up. He’s got a ship to fly.”
“All she has are reaction control jets.” Finn took Mac’s hand and leaned his weight back.
The Scotsman used the leverage to rise on his good leg. “That’ll have ta do.” With Finn’s help, he hobbled over to the control station and began tapping at the keyboard. “First we’ve got ta vent some o’ this hydrogen.” Flight data appeared on the monitor. Mac frowned. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Talia didn’t like the way he said it.
The other three followed Mac’s gaze as he turned toward the hole where the docking hatch used to be. Wires and ragged strings of rubber flooring hung down into the empty space below.
“Our Dr. Ivanov did some real damage when he blew that seal, din’ee?” Mac turned back to his data, punching more keys. “Debris from the dockin’ clamps must’ve punched through the envelope. We’re venting gas, so the good news is we’re comin’ doon.”
The Gryphon Heist Page 28
