The Tide: Deadrise (30 page)

***

D
om heard a voice over his comm link, but his focus was on the dead Goliath threatening to sink the catamaran. His thoughts and vision became tunneled as he struggled to come up with a solution.

Then it came to him.

He searched the bag Jenna had brought aboard and took out the drill. Snapping a battery pack into place, he squeezed the trigger on the drill and was rewarded with the loud whine of the motor and the rapid spinning of the foot-long bit. Dom approached the enormous claws still wrapped around the railing.

The claws were too massive to cut through in time. Instead, Dom drilled straight through the handrail. The weakened rail began to buckle. He moved past Miguel and Jenna and drilled two more holes on the other side of the Goliath’s claws. The metal groaned and screeched. Finally, the piece of rail in the Goliath’s claws ripped completely away from the boat. No longer held back by the creature’s weight, the bow slapped into the water and kicked up a small wave.

They were free.

They left a frothy wake and a sinking Goliath behind. With a grimace, Glenn steered the boat to the middle of the river where the Zodiac waited. As they neared it, more voices came through the comm link.

“Good to hear you’re all safe,” Renee was saying. “What’s the emergency?”

A familiar voice said, “We saw the
Huntress
. It’s surrounded by what looks like half the Coast Guard.”

“Midshipman Kaufman,” Dom said. “Is that you? You’ve got a sitrep on the
Huntress
?”

“I do,” Kaufman said. “But I think it’s better if you talk to Commander Shepherd.”

How had those two managed to find each other? Dom’s curiosity was piqued, but he’d hold his questions for later.

“Shepherd here. Captain Holland, happy to hear from you.”

“You too,” Dom said. “Tell me about the
Huntress
.”

“There were three Coast Guard cutters alongside her. She’s currently at anchor a klick south of Annapolis.”

“Good. That’s where we left her.”

“We saw a chopper flying from one cutter back to the mainland. We couldn’t get closer to learn more than that.”

Dom nodded, mulling over the new information. It would make his plan easier. “That’s all very good, Commander. I appreciate it.” He chinned the comm link channel to private. “Renee, Glenn, get these boats moving to Annapolis.” Once the order was given, he reopened the channel with Shepherd. “Commander, I plan to retake my ship. I’m afraid General Kinsey thinks Meredith and I are involved on the wrong side of this Oni Agent business. We’re going to need to hightail it out of the bay and disappear as fast as we can.”

“You’re more right than you know,” Shepherd said. He summarized his own capture and brutal interrogation. Dom was aghast at the lengths to which Kinsey had gone, but according to Shepherd, Kinsey hadn’t been acting alone. Meredith’s old CIA supervisor, David Lawson, was running the show now. That brought up more questions than it answered, and Dom knew he and Meredith would have their hands full in their attempt to figure out what game Lawson was playing. “No matter what the brass says, I don’t believe for a minute that you’re behind this mess, Captain Holland.”

“I appreciate your support. Our only involvement has been to help put a stop to it. And when we succeed, we want to make sure the right people pay for what they’ve done. What’s next for you—and can we help?”

“Captain Holland, you keep doing what you’re doing. I plan on returning to Fort Detrick. That’s where my command is, and I’ll find a way back whether it’s with Kinsey’s support or not. The midshipmen will be staying at Kent. Despite what he said, General Kinsey sent reinforcements to finish what the civilians and midshipmen started here.”

“Interesting. Anything else?”

“No, Captain. Godspeed and good luck.”

The call ended. Dom felt hopeful for the future of Kent Island, at least. He was less certain that Shepherd could—or should—attempt to retake his command at Detrick. Meanwhile, Dom and the Hunters still had the immense task of retaking their ship. The catamaran plowed through the water beside the Zodiac. A few hours of daylight remained, and they would need every minute of it to get near Annapolis and prepare for what lay ahead.

First things first. “Renee, you got a medic pack handy?”

“Sure do, Captain,” she said, rummaging through the packs on the Zodiac.

He moved portside, reaching an arm out toward the Zodiac. Renee leaned over the gunwale with the first aid pack in her hand. He took it and nodded a thank you. After unzipping it, he took out a nanofiber coagulant spray. It would help stop the bleeding in Glenn’s arm and hold the skin together for a few hours, but it was no replacement for sutures. He was banking on recovering the
Huntress
before the fibers failed so that Glenn could be treated by the real medical team. Miguel took over piloting the catamaran, and Jenna helped Glenn peel away the bandages while Dom applied the spray. They placed a new dressing over the temporarily closed wounds as the catamaran bounced over the waves.

They traveled along the ever-widening Potomac until they reached the bay. Sailing north, Dom kept his binos trained ahead. Shapes soon broke over the horizon. In the midst of a loose circle of white ships was the gleaming gray hull of his
Huntress
. He signaled the Hunters to make landfall. Andris steered the Zodiac to shore, and Miguel beached the catamaran beside it.

Once Miguel turned off the gurgling motor, the woods around them seemed eerily silent. Dom shouldered his rifle and gestured for the others to do the same. He waited, wondering whether they’d be casting off again in a hurry. After a few moments, he picked up the sound of birdsong and the chirp of insects—but no telltale sign of the Skulls.

The group transferred the dive supplies onto the shore. Dom directed the operation as each able-bodied hunter suited up. He secured the Hunters’ gauges to their tanks and checked the air pressure in each. With Glenn out of commission, they had just enough tanks to go around. The Hunters formed a semicircle, and Dom briefed them again. They’d been over the plan, but he wanted to ensure every detail was clear. Even a minor screw-up could lead to their capture—or worse.

Dom spent the last minutes before the mission with his daughters, sitting quietly beside them as they ate a couple of MREs. He muttered a silent prayer of thanks to Adam for giving his life to save the girls. Maybe if there was an afterlife, he’d find Adam there and buy him a drink.

But not today. Today he was going to get his ship back.

The others checked over their equipment, the explosives, and the nonlethals they’d gathered. Dom chuckled to himself as he realized he owed them all a couple of drinks, too. On every mission these men and women faced seemingly insurmountable odds. They each were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice. Adam had been one of the unlucky ones who’d actually had to pay that price, but he suspected that more of them would be lost in the war to eradicate the Oni Agent. A shudder ran down Dom’s spine, and he hoped the others didn’t see it.

A hand touched his arm gently. “You okay?” Meredith asked in a low voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dom said. Then he sagged and let himself lean against her. “Who am I kidding? Of course I’m not okay. I almost lost my daughters again. And Adam’s gone. We’re about to toss a Hail Mary of a mission to recover the ship that might be our only chance to survive in this twisted world.”

“It’s pretty fucked up,” Meredith said, her voice dry.

“It’s pretty fucked up,” Dom agreed. Somehow acknowledging that simple truth helped keep the smoldering remains of hope alive in him.

Meredith strapped a pair of knockout gas canisters to her utility belt. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “But it’ll just be like old times. You and me, sneaking into a target overrun by hostile military. Makes you nostalgic, doesn’t it?”

“Nostalgia isn’t the quite the word I’d use to describe the feeling of infiltrating my own ship.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “But if that’s the word that works for you, let’s get nostalgic.”

The last dying light of the setting sun disappeared behind the westward trees. Clouds were rolling in, blotting out the stars. Dom could smell the rain before it began to fall in heavy sheets. He wasn’t sure if the storm was a good omen or bad.

Either way, it was time to get started.

The group abandoned the catamaran in favor of the Zodiac. The craft was built for stealth, and stealth was what they needed.

Meredith twisted her red hair into a bun, squeezing the water out of it in a futile gesture. “You know why they say you shouldn’t go diving in the rain, don’t you?”

A wry grin crossed Dom’s face as water streamed over his brow and nose. “You’ll get wet.”

Renee was crouched next to them, adjusting one of her fins. She rolled her eyes. “Pretty sure I heard that joke before.”

Glenn slowed the Zodiac as they approached the
Huntress
and the cutters. He kept a small island between themselves and the ships. Once Dom judged they were close enough, he pulled his mask over his face.

“I love you girls,” he said to Kara and Sadie. He looked at Meredith and surprised himself by saying, “You, too.” Then he placed his regulator in his mouth and rolled into the murky river.

––––––––

M
eredith followed Dom into the darkness of the roiling water. They’d talked about diving in the Florida Keys or even the Maldives. Yet it always seemed every time they’d dived together over the years, it was in dark waters like this for some mission or training exercise. Never just for the fun of it. They deserved a damned vacation. All of them. She vowed that after this was all over, she’d take a trip with him and the girls. Maybe they’d dive the Great Barrier Reef together. She’d always wanted to do that.

Meredith tried to keep an eye on him, but visibility was terrible in the murky depths. Instead, she relied on her smartwatch, synced up with the other Hunters, to tell her the location of the ships and her fellow divers. She pumped her legs, trying to gain speed with her fins, but fighting the current was like trying to push over a Goliath.

She had almost forty minutes to contemplate the mission ahead—and the fact that Dom had said he loved her. They’d hardly talked about their feelings, either as partners or now, at last, as lovers. She’d been taken off guard, and before she could respond, Dom had dropped into the water. She smiled behind her mask. Typical man.

At last, her smartwatch beeped a signal to her comm link. With another kick, the ghostly gray image of the
Huntress
’s stern appeared floating in the water before her. Clicks over her comm link told her the other Hunters had found their targets as well. She surfaced slowly. Rain pelted her. Dom came up next and removed the regulator from his mouth.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “Aye aye, Captain.”

He grabbed the rungs of a ladder built into the hull. Hand over hand, he climbed with Meredith following closely. Her fingers slipped on a rung. She caught herself but began to climb slower. No mistakes. Once they were safely above the waves, they removed their fins and secured them to their packs. They continued the awkward climb with their gear and SCUBA tanks draped over their backs.

Dom stopped before the ladder reached the deck. He used two fingers to point to his eyes and then pointed over the gunwale. Then he held up three fingers.

Shit
, Meredith thought. Three people above deck, even in a downpour like this. It didn’t bode well for how tight security must be on the ship. And with the two of them burdened by their gear, it wouldn’t be easy to bring down three guards.

She undid a water-resistant pouch in her pack and slipped out a Taser. Dom did likewise. She squeezed next to him on the ladder so she could get a view of the guards. They were pacing around the helipad. A Huey sat where Frank’s AW109 was supposed to be. Meredith felt a twinge of guilt that they’d heard nothing from the pilot. She had no idea where he might be or if he was even alive. She missed his corny jokes.

Two of the guards stopped and began a brief conversation. She pointed at them, claiming them for herself. Dom nodded and then sliced the air with a chopping motion.

They sprang from the ladder. Their bare feet padded over the wet deck, and Meredith did her best to prevent the tank on her back from clanging against the loose dive gauges and the regulator. The rain masked what little noise they did make.

She heard a
whoomph
as Dom slammed into his target and subdued the man. She pounced on one of the guards and wrapped her arm around his neck. He tried to yell, but she’d already clamped down on his airway. With her other hand, she aimed the Taser and fired at the other guard. He went down convulsing.

The guard in her grip dropped his weapon and clawed at her, trying to break free. He threw himself backward, and she slammed against the Huey. Her dive tank knocked against the back of her head, and pain coursed through her skull.

But she didn’t let go. The man’s struggling became weaker. Slowly, he slipped into the realm of unconsciousness. As soon as he had, Meredith zip-tied his wrists together. She bounded to the other man, who was fighting his Taser-induced stupor.

She unslung her rifle and clocked him in the temple with its stock.

“Sorry,” she said as he sprawled over the deck.

They dragged the three knocked-out guards next to the Huey and duct-taped their mouths. After shedding their dive gear, Dom grabbed a rope from his pack, and Meredith took out the bulky drill and heavy bit from hers. She quickly looped the rope through her utility belt and clipped it in place with a carabineer.

“Now for the real show,” Dom said. “You got this?”

“You bet I do.”

He helped her over the gunwale and belayed her as she rappelled down the portside hull. She peered at the schematics of the
Huntress
on her smartwatch. Once she gauged she was just outside the main HVAC ducts, she unstrapped the drill from her belt. She spread her feet out and used her boots to hold herself in place. The drill turned on with a quick trigger squeeze, and she aimed at a spot in the middle of a hull plate.