The capsule went under.
The ocean claimed them, and the light was instantly green-black, the temperature plunging in tandem.
Fuckfuckfuck—
His ears popped as they sank and pressure built, metal grumbling around them as it adjusted to the depth. His brain reengaged now it realized he was still alive.
We’re still sinking.
Come on.
His fingers gripped the armrest so hard he was sure he would dent the metal.
Come on. Come on.
The descent slowed.
A deep vibration boomed from deep within the craft. The emergency buoyancy systems, discharging compressed air chambers in the hull. The capsule leveled.
Started rising.
Caro half screamed, half laughed. “We’re going back up.”
He worked his throat through a sandy swallow as the pressure changed again, the green light lightening from black to ocean green. And then they bobbed free, surfacing to the open ocean, rocking violently from side to side, water sluicing the windows.
We’re floating.
Fuck yes.
He hit the engine start, and the motor coughed, then caught. The small propeller engaged, and he pointed them away from the rig, toward open water.
Jen bent forward in her seat, her back shaking.
“We made it,” Caro clutched her straps, her eyes white in the gloom. “Bloody hell and a half. We actually made it. We actually freaking made it.”
Through the rain-streaked window, NORPAC-7 stood dark against the storm. Searchlights swept across the deck as two Seahawks hovered overhead, black against the clouds. Figures fast-roped down onto the platform.
More SEALs. Reinforcements.
He unclipped his restraints. Jen still hadn’t said anything.
She was sitting back up, but staring at Seven through the small window.
He climbed over to join her. “Jen.”
When she didn’t respond, he took her chin in his hand and turned her face to him. “Hey. You with me?”
Her eyes focused on him.
“I shot him in the face.” Her voice was hollow. “I shot a man in the face with a flare gun.”
“You saved my life.” His thumb traced her cheekbone. “Again.”
“He would have killed you.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “Akilov. He would have killed you and taken me anyway.”
“Maybe.” He traced the softness of her cheek. “But he was coming for you and I couldn’t let him do that.”
The hum of the motor and the crash of water on the hull filled the space between them.
