Chapter 54 - The Caldera's Fury
The descent was controlled madness. The heat rising from the ruptured geothermal pipes scorched Rebecca’s neck, the sulfurous air burning her lungs.
Two hundred feet down, a burst of heavy automatic fire chewed into the concrete pillar ten feet to their left. Orion mercenaries on the crane platform had spotted their descent.
"Hang on, Director," Rebecca muttered between clenched teeth.
Swinging her body with all her momentum, she pivoted in mid-air, drawing her sidearm with her free hand. In the strobe of the tracer fire, her training took over. Three controlled double-taps into the crane platform through the swirling steam.
The first gunner collapsed over the railing, his weapon tumbling into the churning water below. The second scrambled for cover behind an armor-plated winch, his suppression fire broken.
Rebecca squeezed the friction brake with everything she had. The cable groaned, stretching near its breaking point, and they slammed into the metal grating of the mid-level gantry sixty feet above the waterline.
Cross hit the deck hard, groaning as the impact drove the wind from his lungs. Rebecca rolled instantly, coming up into a low crouch, weapon swept forward.
"Admiral!"
Vance appeared through the billowing curtain of steam, his face black with soot, his combat vest shredded along the shoulder from shrapnel. Behind him, four Navy SEALs formed a tight defensive perimeter, their carbines chattering in short, lethal bursts against the remaining Orion mercenaries.
"Report!" Rebecca ordered, hauling Cross upright by his collar.
"Two of our boys took non-fatal hits, but they're mobile," Vance shouted over the roar of the water. "The *Njord* has slipped its forward moorings! Its automated diesels have kicked over—it’s maneuvering toward the subterranean exit canal!"
Rebecca looked toward the basin. The titanic submarine was already half-submerged, its massive wake churning the boiling lagoon into frothing white water. If the *Njord* reached the open Arctic shelf under autonomous guidance, its secondary programming would execute the tectonic strike from the deep ocean floor where no surface ship could reach it.
"We can't sink it from the outside," Rebecca said, her eyes locked on the disappearing silhouette of the submarine. "Its reactive armor will deflect torpedoes in these shallow confines."
"Then what do we do?" Vance demanded.
"We board it," Rebecca said.
"Admiral, the hull is sealed! The main hatches are recessed and dog-bolted from the inside!"
"Not the maintenance trunk on the sail," Rebecca countered, pointing toward the colossal conning tower sliding past their catwalk at twelve knots. "The emergency escape trunk is designed to open against sea pressure from the exterior using an acoustic rescue beacon. Vance, where is the breaching charge?"
Vance grinned through the grime on his face, tapping the heavy satchel slung across his chest. "C-4 with a shaped magnetic core. Enough to crack a titanium vault."
"Take Cross to the skiff," Rebecca ordered, shoving the bound director toward the surviving SEALs. "Get him aboard the *Vanguard*. Harris needs to get the ship out of this caldera before the roof comes down."
"I’m not leaving you to ride a rogue leviathan alone, Hayes," Vance growled, stepping beside her. "I was with you when your father spent your first deployment check on that Mercedes, and I told you then he was a parasite. I'm not letting you die in a ditch over his sins."
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Rebecca met his gaze for a fraction of a second, seeing the unyielding loyalty of twenty years of shared naval service.
"Then let's take back what belongs to the Navy," she said. "Move!"
