Bloodline: A Sigma Force Novel Read online

  But Gray wasn’t counting on hope alone.

  He stared at his goal beyond the doors of the tower.

  It stood across the park. The roof of the yellow Hummer—the one they’d hid behind earlier—was still above water for the moment, but that wasn’t Gray’s target. They weren’t going to be driving off this island.

  Beyond the bulk of the truck, the matching yellow jet boat bobbed. The rising waters had floated it off of its trailer. Straps still tethered it in place, but someone hadn’t properly ratcheted the boat down.

  Gray had a dagger strapped to his wrist, ready to cut the craft the rest of the way loose. He hoped he could get the boat started, but if nothing else, at least it floated. He would take that versus clinging to debris at the whim of the eddying currents and riptides.

  Reaching the entrance, he shouldered into one of the doors. Swinging the half-submerged barrier open proved a challenge against the weight of water. But it slowly budged. He got it wide enough to slip outside.

  The buffeting currents tried to rip him from his perch atop the steps that led down to the park. All that held him in place was his iron grip on the door handle.

  A shout drew him around.

  He stared back into the lobby.

  Seichan stood with the others on the stairs. The waters continued to chase them up the spiraling steps and appeared to be rising faster now. Gray’s toes could barely touch the surface of the marble floor. But it was more than the encroaching flood that concerned her.

  Her arm pointed out toward the city.

  “Lights!” she called. “Coming this way!”

  Gray turned, hanging by his arm from the handle.

  Down the wide central avenue that ran along one leg of the star, a trio of lights came racing toward the Burj Abaadi. They wove back and forth in a zigzagging search pattern.

  Speedboats.

  Gray doubted they were a rescue operation. Not on this island, not with who truly ran this place. More likely it was a contingent from the fleet that patrolled the waters around the island. Someone must have sent them to make sure there were no survivors of the assault on the hidden station.

  “Stay out of sight!” Gray called to Seichan. “Keep moving if necessary!”

  Acknowledging this, she waved the group farther up the spiral stairs.

  With time running out, Gray eyed his bobbing target and dove into the surging waters. The currents tugged and hauled, dragging and throwing his body, but once away from the wave actions churning against the walls of the tower, the strength of the tides ebbed. He popped his head clear, sighted his target, and swam with strong kicks.

  Submerged obstacles turned out to be the bigger challenge. As he headed across the park, his leg became tangled in the branches of a drowned tree, and he had to fight his way loose.

  All the while, he kept an eye on the approaching boats.

  He realized he would never reach the Hummer before the patrol arrived at the tower. Still, the waters were dark, and the flotsam plentiful. With care, he might not be seen bobbing amid the debris. He would wait until the patrol left before freeing the boat and rescuing his teammates.

  At least that was the plan until flares streaked into the sky, rising from the speedboats, and burst above the flooded park. New stars were born up there, hovering on small chutes, blazing with crimson fire, turning night into a hellish twilight and the waters a dark ruddy hue.

  Gray searched for cover before the boats got here. A long, low crate floated ten yards off, slowly spinning in an eddy, offering some shelter.

  He kicked toward it, sweeping with his arms.

  The whining scream of the engines grew in volume.

  He reached the crate and grabbed an edge, catching his breath. He kept his eyes on the boats as they rode out of the flooded avenue and into the drowned park. The trio fanned out from there.

  He hugged closer to his meager shelter.

  With the enemy splitting up, he would have to be careful to ensure the bulk of the crate remained between him and the patrol at all times. He clung to the edge and kicked with his feet, dragging the box with him, careful not to move too fast, trying to maintain the illusion of another piece of flotsam.

  Then a pair of boats angled toward him, splitting to either side—not with intent, just poor luck on his part. He slipped underwater and moved beneath the crate. His hands blindly sought the underside of the box, to hold himself steady until the boats passed.

  But as he searched, his palms found no bottom to the crate. It was open on the underside. Reaching up, he felt a pocket of air. He rose into it and took a deep breath in the darkness. His fingers discovered soft, cushioned fabric lining the inside.

  He suddenly knew where he hid.

  He pictured the casket used to transport Amanda here, resting in the back of a pickup truck. It must have been washed out of the rear bed, the lid ripped off.

  The waters lightened to either side as the two boats swept by with their headlamps shining.

  After they passed, Gray continued his swim across the park, hidden beneath the casket. He didn’t know if this mode of transportation was good luck or a bad omen. Still, he forged on, slowly floating his way toward the boat. Hopefully, the patrol would be gone once he got there.

  After another half minute of silence, Gray risked ducking back outside to gauge his trajectory across the park.

  As his head cleared the water, a thunderous scream jerked him around. He stared back toward the Burj Abaadi. The trio of boats faced the entrance. From the center one, a streak of smoke cut through the blood-tinged night and slammed into the multistory glass façade. The explosion of a rocket-propelled grenade shattered into the lobby. Sheets of glass fell from above like a hundred shimmering guillotines, opening a wide chasm.

  A pair of the engines whined into a roar, and two of the boats swept through that gap and into the dark lobby. Once they were inside, another flare burst like a red sun.

  Gray hoped the others had taken cover and that the patrol would only make a cursory pass before exiting the tower.

  In the meantime, he had his own mission.

  Before he could turn away, an eerie vibration shuddered through the water. The surface of the lake trembled.

  With a low groan, the world began plunging down all around them. Towers sank faster, floor by floor. The last of the treetops vanished under the waves. Trapped air bubbled out everywhere, the last drowning gasp of Utopia.

  Across the park, the blasted hole in the façade of the Burj Abaadi had shrunk to a lowering archway as the tower submerged. A single boat came racing through, the occupants ducking under the fangs of broken glass.

  The second boat got trapped inside, circling futilely behind the glass, as the hole closed. The patrols on the outside tried to fire another rocket, but by the time they readied a shot, the entire lobby had sunk away.

  Gray swung around, taking advantage of the distraction, knowing the crews would be focused on their trapped companions.

  The Hummer and jet boat were gone, vanished fully underwater.

  Reaching where they had sunk, he took a huge breath, kicked his legs over his head, and dove down through the fiery surface waters. Far below stretched only darkness.

  Gray strained for those black depths.

  4:33 A.M.

  Seichan fought for more height.

  Below, a rising flood chased her and the others, swallowing the spiraling stairs beneath them. But that wasn’t all. A few floors down, dark shadows pounded their way up, their panicked flight lit by the shine of a few emergency bulbs. The trapped crew of the patrol boat sought the same escape they did, running for higher ground, staying ahead of the cresting water.

  Seichan wanted to put three floors between her team and the water table before abandoning the stairs and trying to reach the far windows on one of these levels.

  But she had another problem. She was thoroughly turned around. With the power out, the tower levels had stopped rotating and settled into a haphazard corkscrew
. Floors stuck out in all directions. On top of that, the dizzying spiral of the staircase left her disoriented. She no longer had any idea which side of the building she was supposed to meet Gray.

  A gunshot echoed up from below.

  She scowled at the source.

  The fleeing patrol.

  First, what did the bastards think they could hit?

  And second, fuck you very much.

  But if they wanted to play that game, she wouldn’t mind eliminating a few worries.

  “Kowalski! Do it!”

  “Anything you say.” He still lugged Amanda over one shoulder, but he reached to a pocket as he ran. He let the pellets he collected dribble between his fingers, falling away like a trail of bread crumbs onto the steps.

  She watched between her toes and waited until the shadows below reached the littered section of stairs.

  “Now!” she yelled.

  Kowalski pressed his transceiver, igniting the last of his C-4 pellets. The blast took out the point man, and the survivors retreated from the shattered gap in the glass staircase. They were trapped with no other way up.

  Sorry, fellas. You started this war.

  She continued her maddening flight up the steps. After a few more turns, she heard screams rise from below.

  She used their cries to judge the distance to that drowning flood. Either the waters were rising faster, or their pace was slowing. Whichever the case, they were losing this footrace.

  “Next level!” she shouted to Tucker. “Take that one. Find the shortest path to the outer windows.”

  Reaching that floor, Seichan raced after the handler and his dog, a silent prayer on her lips. Tucker turned into a long hall.

  “Over here!” he yelled. “A balcony at the end!”

  “Shoot out the lock!” Seichan hollered back.

  They needed every second.

  She sprinted, trailed by Kowalski. To the man’s credit, he kept up, even burdened by Amanda’s weight. He was a veritable draft horse.

  Gunshots blasted ahead.

  She reached Tucker and Kane as the man hauled open the sliding glass door. A wide balcony beckoned. They all fled out onto it.

  Seichan moved to the rail. The rising water churned one floor down. If they had to jump, she feared two things. If they didn’t leap far enough, the undertow caused by the plunging tower would drag them all down. And even if they cleared that danger, these rough seas had sharks—and not only the ones with fins.

  A patrol boat drifted to the right, not far from the park.

  They would never be able to swim fast enough to escape it, and their splashes would likely draw the crew’s attention.

  Seichan searched the drowning city.

  Where are you, Gray?

  4:35 A.M.

  C’mon, c’mon …

  Running out of air, Gray blindly sawed at the nylon strap with his knife. It had taken him too long to find the boat as it hung in the dark depths, still tethered to the trailer. The positive buoyancy of the vessel had locked the tie-downs tight. There was no unclipping them from their bolts.

  He’d already cut the straps at the bow. Once free, the boat’s nose rose toward the surface, hanging vertical, still anchored at the stern. Keeping one hand on the transom, he worked at that rear strap of the tie-down. Pressure built in his ears as the island sank deeper, dragging him and the boat farther underwater.

  As his air began to give out, he sawed frantically.

  Stubborn piece of—

  A light flared overhead, brightening the waters. A dark shadow idled into view on the surface, limned against the glow of its own lamps and accompanied by the slow putter of its engines.

  Gray waited, despite the screaming burn in his lungs.

  Once the shadow was directly overhead, Gray cut through the last of the tie-downs. Freed, the jet boat torpedoed upward, becoming a buoyancy-propelled battering ram.

  4:36 A.M.

  Seichan watched the speedboat drift closer, coming within fifty yards of the tower. One of the crew shouted; another pointed a rifle. Her team had been spotted. A blast echoed over the water. The round ricocheted off the balcony railing.

  Seichan ducked.

  She and the others were too exposed on the balcony, but where could they go? The waters roaring up the side of the tower promised only a quick death by drowning.

  She took potshots back at the boat—then an antediluvian monster blasted out of the sea and rammed into the edge of the speedboat. The force cracked the hull and flipped the boat, tossing the crew out of their seats.

  Nearby, the monster settled to its carbon-fiber keel, resting on the water.

  It was the yellow jet boat.

  Gray popped up beside it. He had his SIG Sauer in hand and fired at the floundering men, hitting three of them. The fourth already floated facedown. Nearby, the cracked hull of the speedboat flooded and sank into the depths.

  “Gray!” Seichan shouted and waved an arm.

  He turned to face her—just as a second speedboat flew around the tower to the left, drawn by the gunfire. It raced under the balcony, spraying machine-gun fire up at it.

  They all flattened, but Seichan knew they weren’t the assault’s true target. The patrol was only knocking them back to pass beneath them and go after easier prey.

  Move it, Gray!

  4:37 A.M.

  Gray hauled himself over the side of the jet boat and sprawled flat on the deck, making himself a harder target. The second speedboat came shooting around the curve of the Burj Abaadi.

  Gunfire shattered the marble off the balcony façade.

  His teammates ducked away—except for one.

  As the boat sailed under the sinking balcony, a sleek shape vaulted into view, back paws kicking off the railing for extra distance. Kane flew across the short gap and landed in the midst of the four patrolmen.

  The effect was the same as if a grenade had been tossed into the boat.

  One man flung himself overboard in fright and got chewed up by the frothing riptide of the sinking tower. Kane latched onto the throat of another. The driver screamed, yanked the wheel, and, in a panic, drove the boat at full speed into an uprooted, floating palm tree.

  The boat hit the thick trunk, shot into the air, and flipped upside down before crashing hard into the water.

  Bodies floated up seconds later, lifeless or unconscious.

  The only survivor proved his skill at dog-paddling.

  Before that deadly collision, a sharp whistle from Tucker had sent Kane leaping from the boat, tail high. The dog landed safely in the calmer water, but the currents were pulling him back toward the churning tide at the base of the tower. Kane fought against it, burdened by his vest.

  No, you don’t.

  Gray lunged into the captain’s chair of the jet boat. He searched and found the key in the glove box and started the ignition. He feared the depths might have damaged the engine, but he also knew jet boats were built for such abuse. As he hoped, a choking burble, a spat of water from the stern jets, and the engine roared lustily.

  He shifted the throttle and shot toward where Kane struggled.

  Hang on.

  Sliding next to the dog, Gray lunged out and grabbed Kane by his waterproof vest. He struggled to get the sodden, sixty-pound dog into the boat. Recognizing it would take both arms, he let go of the wheel. Unpiloted, the craft got pulled closer to the tower. The churning water growled hungrily, the undertow sucking everything down.

  Finally, with a heave of his body, he hauled Kane aboard. The shepherd shook his heavy pelt, tail wagging, and bumped him affectionately.

  “Thanks!” Tucker called over to Gray.

  “Hey, what about us?” Kowalski complained.

  By now, water flooded the lower deck of their balcony, churning hungrily. Gray’s three teammates clung to the railing.

  Manning the wheel again, Gray opened the throttle and gunned his way over to the balcony. He brought the boat alongside them and worked the throttle to hold the c
raft steady. They climbed over the balcony and dropped on board. Tucker helped Kowalski with Amanda. She stirred enough to lift an arm and swat at the bigger of the two.

  Kowalski pushed her arm down. “Sheesh. That’s the thanks I get for hauling your butt up ten flights of stairs.”

  With everyone settled, Gray swung away from the sinking tower.

  The jet boat was only a four-seater. With six on board, counting Kane, the boat drafted deeper than it should, making it sluggish and slow.

  But they were afloat.

  The same could not be said for Utopia.

  The currents shifted under the boat, dragging the craft strongly to port. Gray corrected against that pull—but it only grew worse.

  What the hell?

  “Pierce!” Kowalski hollered, drawing his attention away from the currents to the skies above.

  He craned his neck in shock.

  The tower of the Burj Abaadi leaned precariously over the boat.

  Gray searched outward. Across the rest of the island, towers and spires all canted in the same direction, as if blown over by a stiff wind.

  Oh, hell …

  Seichan recognized the danger, too. “The island is tipping.”

  Gray jammed the throttle forward, picturing the island capsizing.

  They needed to get to open water.

  Off in the distance, a spire broke from its foundation. It toppled and slowly crashed into a neighboring building.

  Closer at hand, a mighty moan vibrated through the waters. It was the deep groan of concrete and steel under stress. No one doubted the source.

  All eyes turned to the Burj Abaadi.

  4:40 A.M.

  It seemed the Eternal Tower was not living up to its name.

  Aboard a large patrol boat, Edward bore witness to the island’s slow destruction. A quarter-mile away, Utopia upended, breaking apart, sliding back into the sea, a modern Atlantis. At its center, the Burj Abaadi toppled, the upper levels breaking and sliding off the central axis, like plates toppling from a tall stack.

  Word had reached him that the patrols sent to the tower had gone missing. Attempts to raise them on the radio had failed.