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Our Daddies are stronger than them.
A buzzing sound above the submarine catches my attention. I peer through the window—then lay eyes on three shapes, each zooming through the water.
One of the shapes does a figure eight—which really makes my left eyebrow tick up.
What the hell? If these are our Daddies, they look like they’re having a bit too much fun. They’re not exactly coming to our rescue like knights in shining armor—instead, it appears as if they’re having a low-key day at the beach.
"Look." I direct Giosuè’s attention toward the window. "Our Daddies are up there."
Giosuè sniffles. "They have no idea we’re here. It’s probably the Riccardis’ henchmen."
One of the jet skis stalls in place. The man on it bounces up and down, his head moving to and fro. A roar echoes throughout the water—that’s the equivalent of a sonic boom.
Giuseppe ticks his head to the side. "What was that?"
Petrie’s eyes turn to slits. "Is someone getting ready to bomb us?"
All at once, it happens—jets of something I can’t name blast through the water.
White.
They splatter on the window of the submarine, coating it.
Giuseppe growls, rushing to the window and banging it. "Hey—who turned out the fucking lights?"
Faro shoots me a look. "You can untie my hands from where you are. Hurry—while they’re distracted."
Oh, God. This entire thing feels like a trap.
Biting my lower lip and praying the Riccardis don't see what I’m doing, I shimmy Faro’s hand cords off. They fall to his feet, and when he’s free, he unties mine and Giosuè’s.
We’re planning to tackle our captors when it happens.
One of the men on the jet skis plunges into the water beside the window. He kicks the glass—bang.
Petrie’s eyes narrow. "Activate the escape protocol."
Giuseppe snarls. "Which one?"
"The shark."
Petrie rushes to a side panel and fumbles with the buttons.
I hold my breath—unable to figure out what the hell is happening.
Without warning, a giant twenty-foot shark swims out of the back of the submarine.
The beastly shark snarls in the water, bubbles swirling around it.
The man by the window screams as he swims away, paddling as fast as he can.
"Shark!" he roars, hopping back on his jet ski. "Motherfucker—y’all didn’t warn me about this shit."
"Me, neither," another voice yells. "Goddamnit, I watchedJawslast night."
The third voice is deep. Low. Packed with emotion. "I brought my AK-47."
Shots rocket through the water.Bam.
