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January 24, 3:07P.M.NZDT
Pacific Ocean, six hundred miles NE of Auckland
Ten seconds...
Nine...
Monk ran the countdown in his head as he fled across the LCAC. He stared at the V-shaped wake of the torpedo surging toward the amphibious boat. The conning tower of the hunter-killer submarine loomed in the distance. Beyond it, the fiery battle continued to be waged across the breadth of theDayangxi. The helicopter dock was awash in flames, bombarded on all sides. It listed badly, taking on water. Its stern had begun to sink.
Eight...
Seven...
Past the destruction and flames, the line of Kermadec volcanos exploded with great gouts of lava, splattering high. Along the plumes of black smoke, lightning shattered in great crowns of electrical fire. Thunderous detonations muffled even the missile blasts, making the nearby battle seem petty and unimportant.
But not to Monk.
Six...
Knowing he could never swim clear of the torpedo’s blast, Monk rushed to the only refuge at hand. He clambered up the side of the battle tank parked atop the deck.
Five...
He reached the top of the tank’s turret. To the right, a dome sprouted stubby antennas. Its armored shell protected the brains that operated the hulking drone. The tank was meant to be dumped onto some beachhead where it would trundle on its own into battle.
For Monk, it was a port in a storm.
Four...
He scrambled to the turret’s hatch and yanked on it. It didn’t budge.
Three...
He feared someone might have soldered it shut, but surely technicians needed to get inside. In his panic, he had failed to note the thick latch on one side. He used the butt of his hand to knock it free.
Two...
With a holler of frustration, he hauled again on the hatch. It finally swung up.
One...
Monk dove into the cabin, slamming the hatch behind him.
Zero...
The explosion was the hammer-strike of an angry god. Even muffled by the tank’s armored plating, the blast pounded Monk’s head. He hung from the hatch as the vehicle was tossed into the air by the burst of the boat’s massive pontoons and the concussion of the detonation.
The tank rolled heavily, going full around. Monk held tight to his handhold and kicked out with his legs, trying to protect himself, but it did no good. He got tossed hard into the wall, against the cabin roof.
Then he felt, more than heard, the impact into the sea. The tank jarred with a resounding clang, then settled into a slow topple as it fell into the depths.
Monk knew he had only moments before the outside water pressure would lock down the turret’s hatch. He braced his legs and shoved his shoulders and upper back. The hatch fought him. He growled and pushed harder. It finally popped open.
Water flooded inside with the strength of a fire hose. Monk got blown to the back of the cabin. He lost his breath, bubbling away hisair. He clamped his lips and fought against panic. He waited for the tank to fill, for the water to stop gushing, then kicked off the floor and dove through the diminishing tide.
He jettisoned out of the tank. Its dark shadow fell away under him. He paddled and kicked for the surface. His lungs ached. He fought harder and finally reached the surface. He popped up high, higher than he intended. He gasped and sputtered and got lower in the water. He prayed he hadn’t been spotted.
Treading in place, he eyed the submarine. It rose like a black shoal a hundred yards away. Lights danced over its length. Small figures moved atop the conning tower, directing actions below. The forward and aft hatches in the main hull had been thrown open. Pontoon boats were tied alongside the sub and offloaded men onto it. Another zoomed from the stern of theTitan X.
