'She hates emotional goodbyes,' Tanuk said. He kissed her, then shook hands with Jason and Jesse. 'Do right,' he said to them. 'And make our world safe again.' Then he turned and in moments had disappeared into the hillside grasses.
'So, new plan?' Tina said.
Jason nodded, feeling more than a little morose. 'New plan,' he agreed.
'We won't let you down, Jason,' Jesse said.
'Good,' he said.
He briefly explained what he wanted them to do and, despite their accusations that he'd lost his mind, he eventually got them to agree. They helped him load the Scorpion with the equipment he'd need, and kept the rest for their assault on the base.
They'd need every bit of it. He knew that much. He could only hope they'd still be alive when he got there.
He shook hands with his brother, then pulled him into a rough embrace. 'Keep her safe,' he said.
'I will,' Jesse replied. 'Just get to us as fast as you can.'
'Done,' Jason promised, turning to Tina. She pulled him close and kissed him.
'Get to work now,' she said. 'And try not to get yourself killed.'
'I'll do my best,' he said.
He climbed into the Scorpion and guided it into the murky Arctic waters. It felt as if he'd never see either one of them again, but it didn't matter. He'd found a woman he cared about and a brother he didn't know he had, and somehow that brother had seen that being on the side of good was more important than any paycheck. They were people who made caring easy, the risks of caring worthwhile.
And none of that mattered. The mission had to come first.
For Jason, it always had…and it always would.
19
Jason took a direct route back to the sub, expecting that the minisubs they'd been using were back at the underground cavern, taking on their final loads. The tide had gone out, and with it, many of the largest pieces of ice debris. Closer to the surface, the water was a dark green, almost an emerald with the tiniest bit of light; down where he was, the darkness closed in tight. He relied on both his vision and his radar to avoid obstacles — large piles of frozen rock, huge beds of ocean weeds that floated on the currents, and even whales, which seemed to avoid him almost of their own volition.
One of the things he'd asked the offshore team to do was retrofit the Scorpion's hull, using the same light- bending technology, but to project the image of a barnacle cluster, rather than a school of fish or other marine life. He guided the Scorpion closer and closer to the sub, hoping that his plan would work.
It was in the same location as before — Feng Li must have felt very confident not to move it. He slipped around beneath it to the torpedo tube where he'd previously placed the magnets. Originally, he'd planned to use the special dry suit and swim to the sub, but time was too precious now. He had to get this done and join Jesse and Tina at their main base of operations before they were both killed. Just before reaching the tube, he powered down the Scorpion's engines to almost nothing. He barely had guidance control, but it was just enough.
He eased the craft ever so slowly until the escape hatch of the Scorpion was directly positioned over the torpedo tube, then he extended the ring of magnets he'd had the offshore team install. He shut down the engines and let the magnets do the rest of the work. The magnets drew the Scorpion and the sub closer together, and with a dull thud his vessel locked on to the sub. He had to hope that there was no one in the torpedo room at that moment wondering about the noise.
When he engaged the escape hatch, the field would create an air lock of sorts, allowing him to enter the torpedo tube. He checked his weapons and handheld once more, then opened his laptop. It was time to determine if the line leech had done its job. The computer powered up, and he tapped in the code that would connect his computer, the Scorpion, the handheld and the line leech all together. The software worked silently for almost two minutes before it gave him the message 'All connections established.'
'Good to go,' he said. He left the laptop running in the Scorpion and used the handheld to override the alert command on the submarine's torpedo tube. He showed it as undergoing routine maintenance, then stepped over the field and reached through. The outer door of the torpedo tube was icy cold, but the seal was good.
He entered a new command into the handheld and the outer door unlocked. He reached down and opened it, then slipped silently through the field and into the tube, going head first.
He made his way down the tube, fervently praying that they didn't choose that precise moment to test fire a weapon or something, until he made it to the hatch where the torpedo itself would be loaded. Once again, he used the handheld to order a computer override — this time a command to open the interior tube door.
After several seconds, he heard the sound of the bolts sliding free, and he watched as the tube door opened. He continued on, sliding out of the tube and into the torpedo room itself, crouching and looking for enemies. The room was empty.
Taking out the handheld once more, he typed in a search command, looking for the set of plans he knew had to be stored within the main databanks. It was tempting to try to sink the sub remotely, but he knew that they could manually override any command he gave their system from the bridge. He didn't want them to be aware of a problem until it was far too late to do anything about it. The handheld was searching, so he slipped it back into his pocket and moved to the doorway.
Jason threaded a small suppressor onto the barrel of his Glock and crept forward to the hatch leading to the next compartment. Glancing down the hallway, he could see that there were three men walking down the passageway. Two stopped and climbed up a ladder to the next level, while the third continued on in his direction.
Jason pulled back behind the door and waited, slipping his gun back into its holster. Jason stood tight against the wall and waited. As soon as the man crossed the threshold, Jason reached out from behind him, grasped him with one arm and pulled him to his chest.
The stunned sailor didn't have time to speak before Jason snapped his neck. He lowered the body smoothly to the floor and pulled him out of view, deep into the torpedo room. Another quick glance down the hallway showed it empty, so Jason took a few moments to remove the Russian sailor's uniform and put it on over his own clothing. The fit was tight and the pants too short, but if someone didn't look too carefully, he might slip by them unnoticed.
After hiding the body behind a rack of torpedoes, Jason looked into the hallway again, and found it still empty. The engine room would be on the far end of the submarine, but most likely on the same level, or perhaps the one above it. He moved confidently down the hallway, trying to look as though he belonged there and knew where he was going.
He'd made it about a third of the way when two sailors came out of a side compartment and almost collided with him in the narrow space. Jason kept his head down and muttered, 'Excuse me' in Russian.
One of the sailors said, 'Dimitri? What's wrong?'
Without turning around, he said,
He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew it was too late. He reached up and across his body with his right hand, grasping the one on his shoulder and twisting it, hard. Jason heard bones snap in the sailor's wrist, accompanied by a yell of pain.
So much for quiet, Jason thought, while lashing out at the other sailor and taking him in the knee. The bones made a satisfying crunch and that one went down, grabbing at his leg and calling for security.
Jason removed the Glock from its holster and fired twice. He silenced both men instantly.
Above him, on the next level, he could hear voices shouting queries. He only had a couple of moments at most. He dragged both men into the compartment they'd come from and shut the door. There were splatters of blood along the floor and the bottom of the walkway walls, but there was little he could do about that. Perhaps the dim light would help.
A set of booted feet appeared on the ladder leading to the next level up, and an idea struck him. More confusion might equal more time. Positioning himself in the hall, he lay down on the floor at a seemingly awkward
