“Akilov. Was that your guy who went off the side of Seven? Or the one I left zip-tied to the catwalk?”
Static hissed.
“Petty Officer Meyer,” Akilov said at last. “How fortunate for Chief Engineer James that you are so dedicated. She is with you, I assume?”
Jen stiffened. Wyatt shifted just enough to put himself between her and the door.
“Quite resourceful, your engineer,” Akilov continued. “The lockdowns. The sabotage. Impressive.”
Wyatt’s jaw tightened.
“Of course,” Akilov said lightly, “systems can be undone. Given time and incentive?—”
Incentive.
His vision blazed white for a split-second. Every scar on his body knew what that word meant when applied to a human being.
Rage hit him like a match to dry fuel.
“Here’s the thing,” Wyatt leveled his voice. “You’re not getting those missiles. Not tonight. Not ever.”
A soft laugh.
“You misunderstand,” Akilov said. “The hydraulics you disabled are inconvenient. Nothing more.”
Wyatt went still.
“We do not need the release mechanism,” Akilov continued. “We have cranes. Cutting tools. Missiles are steel. Steel can be moved. No matter what it takes. Those missileswillleave this platform.”
“Then you’d better hurry,” Wyatt said. “Because you’re running out of people willing to do it.”
Silence.
“You seem confident for a man outnumbered twenty to one,” Akilov said at last.
“I’ve had worse odds.”
“Have you?” There was genuine curiosity there. “When?”
“Classified.”
A soft chuckle. “Yes. As a fellow soldier, I imagine you have stories. Let me propose something. You’re a professional. I’m a professional. We both know how this ends.”
“Do we?”
“You cannot hold your position. We have cutting equipment and will access the missile bay shortly. You have a few weapons. And an engineer who should have stayed out of the way.”
Wyatt glanced over his shoulder. Jen’s hands were balled at her side.
“I’ve got everything I need.”
“Then let me be clear. Walk away. As one military professional to another, you can leave this platform alive.”
Jen started toward him.
His eyes found hers.
Stay back.
