The explosion from the cannon as Ray soared above it snapped Atticus’s jaw shut so fast that one of his molars cracked and fell apart into his mouth. But there wasn’t time to give the shattered tooth a second thought as the sub’s nose pitched forward, partly in response to the shock wave emitted from the cannon, and dived toward the deck just below the bridge.
Atticus braced himself just before the submersible made contact with the Titan ’s hull. The impact wasn’t what Atticus thought it would be, and though the jolt was severe, he managed to stay conscious. As Ray slid across the deck, he realized that the sub’s forward momentum was much greater than its downward, so when it hit the deck, the energy was expelled through a grinding, screeching halt that was sure to sully Trevor’s immaculate deck permanently.
With a final jerk, the sub lurched to a stop. Wasting no time, Atticus jumped down from the chair and unlatched the lower hatch. He shoved down, but it was stuck tight, wedged by the weight of Ray upon the deck.
He was trapped.
Atticus growled in frustration and began pacing the small craft like a desperate lion in a cage. His eyes fell on the lexan bubbles that provided Ray’s eyes and pilot viewing ports. Simultaneously, his hand fell to his hip, clutching the. 357 magnum.
Drawing the weapon, Atticus moved beneath one of the windows. He knew the polycarbonate resin used to make the windows would withstand the bullets, even those sent screaming from the magnum. His hope was that the braces used to attach the window were more suited to withstand the massive pressures of the ocean out than the striking force of a hand cannon’s projectiles trying to get out.
The true danger lay in one of the bullets ricocheting off the window and striking Atticus, but the only other choice he had was to wait for Trevor to free him. That wouldn’t be until after Kronos had been killed, which was precisely the enterprise Atticus intended to disrupt.
Atticus hid behind a seat, reached around with the. 357, and took aim. He pulled the trigger six times in rapid succession. When he was done, his ears rang from the booming reports. Shaking his head free of the disorienting effects, he stood and looked to see the lexan window still in place.
About to curse the God of all living things, Atticus paused when he saw a sliver of blue sky forming a crescent where the glass met the hull. He jumped into the chair and pushed up on the glass bubble. It gave way slowly, then, all at once, burst away from the sub’s hull and rattled to the Titan ’s deck.
After hoisting himself out of the sub and sliding down to the wooden deck, Atticus freed his SEAL dive knife from its sheath and ran toward the bridge. He knew he wouldn’t be able to accomplish much with the knife, especially if he found the bridge well guarded, but he’d dispatched enough enemies using a blade during his time with the SEALs to know he wouldn’t die alone.
Images of Giona’s darkened form moving inside the belly of the beast flashed through Atticus’s mind, lending him strength, purpose, and determination. As he found his feet striding up the stairs that led to the bridge, Atticus offered a small prayer to the God he was about to curse just moments before. “Give me strength.”
With that, Atticus burst through the door and with a snap of the wrist, sent the knife soaring.
39
The Titan
After the burst of gunfire from the submersible sitting on the Titan ’s front deck, Trevor realized two things: Atticus was coming…and he was pissed. He leaned forward and peered out the bridge’s front window, taking in a view of Ray resting below. He could see Atticus pulling himself through one of the lexan viewing ports. Atticus slid onto the deck, reached down, and pulled a long knife from a sheath attached to his belt.
“Oh hell,” Trevor whispered to himself.
He had no illusions about what Atticus could accomplish with the single blade. And he felt sure that the instrument of death would find him first if the attack on Kronos persisted. He was, of course, the man who had given the order to attack while Atticus was in the danger zone and his daughter…
Yes, he’s coming for me, Trevor thought.
Remus took a look through the bridge window as well and immediately took action. He drew a 9mm Beretta and snatched Andrea by the hair, pulling her roughly into the center of the bridge. Andrea let out a squeal of pain, but she was manhandled so roughly that the words she tried to form were knocked out of her along with her breath.
In that moment, as Remus began raising his weapon toward Andrea’s head, and Atticus’s footsteps clanged on the stairs to the bridge, Trevor became inspired. He imagined that Mozart or van Gogh must have felt something akin to this at times. When time either slows or the mind speeds up and all things become clear. The bridge door opened and for a fraction of a second his eyes looked into Atticus’s. It was like staring into a tiger’s eyes before being eaten. In that infinitesimal moment, Trevor felt he might die, but then set his visionary plan into action.
Nothing on Trevor’s face revealed he had seen Atticus. Rather, it exploded with surprise as he twisted toward Remus, raising his hands and shouted, “Remus, no!”
With those words, a quick facial expression and a flail of the hands, Trevor transferred Atticus’s attention to Remus. He didn’t even see the knife leave the former SEAL’s hand but he heard the clang of metal on metal as the knife struck the gun from Remus’s hand.
Remus cursed and screamed, loosening his grip on Andrea, who ducked to the floor. Before Remus could recover from the attack-before the dropped gun landed on the floor-Atticus took to the air and extended his leg like a piston. Atticus’s foot slammed into Remus’s sternum with a crack that sent the brightly clad behemoth soaring back into the control console.
Trevor blanched as Remus slumped over unconscious. The ease with which Atticus had knocked the giant unconscious disturbed him. Trevor raised both his hands over his head, yet remained cool and collected. “I pose no threat to a man like you, good sir.”
Atticus whipped around toward Trevor and stalked him like a silverback gorilla bent on destruction. Their faces were inches apart.
“You ordered the attack. Why?”
Trevor nodded, knowing a lie would be seen through and result in a painful experience of some sort.
“To kill the beast. That is what we’re here to do, is it not? You had obviously given up on the task.” Trevor took a breath and when he didn’t get strangled or punched in the gut, continued. “You knew the risks. When you descended into the deep, you were quite prepared to die if I recall corr-”
Atticus’s hand rocketed out, took Trevor’s black-silk shirt in tight, and yanked him even closer. Trevor could feel his hot breath washing over his face. “My daughter is alive.”
A quiver entered Trevor’s voice as he spoke, and this time it was genuine. “Atticus, please…think logically for a moment. Your daughter is in the belly of a sea creature…a predator of enormous proportions. She has been there for days. It is simply not possible that she is still alive.”
“But I saw-”
“What you wanted to see. It was a shape. A silhouette. The odds of the shape being your daughter’s dead body shifting inside the creature’s gullet is beyond remote, but I would more quickly believe that than the ludicrous idea of your daughter still living…still breathing inside Kronos. Please believe that I was acting on what I thought your desires were-to kill the beast or die trying. I-”
A squawking voice from the radio interrupted. “Target is in range. Permission to fire?”
Trevor froze as the helicopter’s pilot spoke the words. Kronos was injured, bleeding in the water. The torpedoes would find their mark and could quite possibly exploit the newly formed chink in the beast’s armor. If he gave the order, the fight could be won. The prize claimed!
But the tightening fist on his shirt told him that Atticus had yet to give up hope. How could he? Trevor had merely planted a seed of doubt, but he’d seen the images himself. Even he knew that somehow, for some reason, Atticus’s daughter still lived. Atticus would not give up, and if Trevor gave the order to fire, the words he spoke might be his last.
