Matt stood in water up to his armpits. Pools of flaming oil lit the room but failed to reveal the grendel hidden in the dark waters around them. Occasional ripples marked its passage as it stalked among them.
They were trapped as time pressed down on them.
They were doomed if they fled, doomed if they stayed.
A voice suddenly called from beyond the smoky, blasted doorway. “Don’t move!”
“Great,” Kowalski growled. “Just great.”
“We have you covered!” Craig yelled. “Any aggression and we’ll start shooting.”
Emphasizing this threat, razor-sharp lines of laser sights crisscrossed the hazy room and settled on their chests. “Don’t move,” Craig repeated.
No one dared disobey him — but it wasn’t the guns that held them all frozen in place.
The waters continued to remain dark and quiet.
“Like I’m going to move,” Kowalski grumbled.
Beyond the doorway, figures shifted within the smoke.
Craig called out to them. “I want the admiral over here now!”
Ten feet from Matt, the waters welled with movement.
Matt met Jenny’s eyes, urging her not to move. It was death to do so.
He checked his watch.
The choices were not great: guns, grendels, or nuclear bombs.
Take your pick.
Matt glanced to Jenny one more time. There was only one chance for the others.
Viktor knew what the American was attempting.
His father had adopted the boy as his son, and at the end, sacrificed so much to keep him safe. Anger flared in him, some of it selfish, a bit of jealousy at the affection given the boy and denied him. But mostly, he felt a connection to his father through the small child. One forms a family where one can. His father had lost so much up here, but at the end, not his humanity.
Viktor turned away. He had brought this ruin upon them all.
Like his father before him, Viktor knew what he had to do.
He yelled over to the blasted doorway. “I’m coming out!” he bellowed, stopping the American in mid- stride.
“What are you—” the other began.
“Here,” Viktor said, and tossed the walkie-talkie toward Pike.
He caught it easily.
“Take care of the boy,” Viktor called, and began splashing toward the exit, pushing through the water. “I’m coming out!” he yelled again, placing his now empty hands atop his head. “Don’t shoot.”
“Admiral,” Pike warned.
His gaze flicked to the man. “One minute,” he said under his breath, tapping a finger atop his wrist monitor. “You have one minute.”
Then it dawned on him.
He spotted the wake that appeared in the water. It began in a lazy S, then focused and tracked in on the wading admiral.
Matt’s gaze fell back to Petkov’s wrist monitor. Once his heart stopped beating, the bomb’s timer would drop immediately to one minute.
The wake in the water sped toward Petkov’s splashing form.
He was taking the bullet for Matt — but it would shorten the time before the bomb exploded.
Matt swung to face Jenny. Her eyes were confused, terrified.
“Be ready to run,” he warned Jenny and Kowalski.
Craig appeared at the doorway, flanked by two guards. They were on higher ground. The flooding water had barely reached their knees. Rifles followed the admiral. All attention was on Petkov.
He was only four yards from Craig when the grendel struck. It surged out of the water, jaws wide, striking him from behind.
The admiral’s head snapped back from the impact at the same time as his body was rammed forward. Propelled by the grendel, he flew high, lifted out of the water. Then the monster rolled, its prey caught in its jaws. Petkov was slammed back into the water.
Craig and his men fell back in horror.
“Run!” Matt yelled.
Jenny was closest, but she was also in the deepest water, up to her neck. She swam with Maki in her arms, kicking with her legs. Once she was within reach of the conning tower, Tom lunged out, snatched the boy from her and pulled him to safety.
Her arms free, Jenny grabbed the outside rungs of the ladder and clambered upward.
Matt retreated with Kowalski.
By the door, the waters thrashed as the grendel whipped its prey, bashing it through the water. A stain of blood pooled around the creature’s white bulk. An arm flailed weakly.
Craig and his guards sheltered back from the savage attack, forgetting about the others for the moment.
Kowalski reached the sub first. Matt waved him up.
The seaman mounted the ladder, scrambling. He glanced back, then stumbled a step. One arm shot out. “Behind you!”
Matt twisted in the water. Another white shape surfaced. Then another. The blood was drawing more of the pod.
Matt weighed caution versus speed. He opted instead for panic. He kicked and paddled, fighting his way toward the sub.
Kowalski reached the top of the tower. He began to fire into the lake, offering some defense.
Matt finally reached the sub and grabbed the lower rung of the ladder. Pulling himself up, he struggled to get his legs under him.
His toes slipped, numb from the cold and slippery from the water.
Kowalski leaned down, grabbed him, half hauling him up the ladder
Beneath Matt, something struck the tower, clanging into it. Jarred, Matt lost his footing and fell free of the wet ladder. But Kowalski still had a fist wrapped in the hood of Matt’s sweatshirt, holding him from a plunge into the waters below.
Matt sought to plant his feet on the rungs. Between his toes, a large white shape surged out of the water.
A grendel, jaws wide, lunged up at him.
With a groan of effort, Kowalski heaved Matt higher. Jaws snapped, catching Matt’s boot heel. The weight of the falling beast yanked the boot clean off. The beast disappeared with its prize.
Matt snatched the ladder and climbed the rest of the way up. “Damn bastard!”
Kowalski was already rolling into the hatch. “What?”
Matt glanced back to the waters below. He had recognized the grendel who had just attacked him. He had noted the pocked and macerated bullet holes. It was the same creature that had hunted Amanda and him in the Crawl Space, the one that had stolen his pants.
“Now the greedy bastard’s got my goddamn boot, too!”
Kowalski shook his head and dropped down the hatch.
