The fourth already floated facedown. Nearby, the cracked hull of the speedboat flooded and sank into the depths.
“Gray!” Seichan shouted and waved an arm.
He turned to face her-just as a second speedboat flew around the tower to the left, drawn by the gunfire. It raced under the balcony, spraying machine-gun fire up at it.
They all flattened, but Seichan knew they weren’t the assault’s true target. The patrol was only knocking them back to pass beneath them and go after easier prey.
4:37 A.M .
Gray hauled himself over the side of the jet boat and sprawled flat on the deck, making himself a harder target. The second speedboat came shooting around the curve of the Burj Abaadi.
Gunfire shattered the marble off the balcony facade.
His teammates ducked away-except for one.
As the boat sailed under the sinking balcony, a sleek shape vaulted into view, back paws kicking off the railing for extra distance. Kane flew across the short gap and landed in the midst of the four patrolmen.
The effect was the same as if a grenade had been tossed into the boat.
One man flung himself overboard in fright and got chewed up by the frothing riptide of the sinking tower. Kane latched onto the throat of another. The driver screamed, yanked the wheel, and, in a panic, drove the boat at full speed into an uprooted, floating palm tree.
The boat hit the thick trunk, shot into the air, and flipped upside down before crashing hard into the water.
Bodies floated up seconds later, lifeless or unconscious.
The only survivor proved his skill at dog-paddling.
Before that deadly collision, a sharp whistle from Tucker had sent Kane leaping from the boat, tail high. The dog landed safely in the calmer water, but the currents were pulling him back toward the churning tide at the base of the tower. Kane fought against it, burdened by his vest.
Gray lunged into the captain’s chair of the jet boat. He searched and found the key in the glove box and started the ignition. He feared the depths might have damaged the engine, but he also knew jet boats were built for such abuse. As he hoped, a choking burble, a spat of water from the stern jets, and the engine roared lustily.
He shifted the throttle and shot toward where Kane struggled.
Sliding next to the dog, Gray lunged out and grabbed Kane by his waterproof vest. He struggled to get the sodden, sixty-pound dog into the boat. Recognizing it would take both arms, he let go of the wheel. Unpiloted, the craft got pulled closer to the tower. The churning water growled hungrily, the undertow sucking everything down.
Finally, with a heave of his body, he hauled Kane aboard. The shepherd shook his heavy pelt, tail wagging, and bumped him affectionately.
“Thanks!” Tucker called over to Gray.
“Hey, what about us?” Kowalski complained.
By now, water flooded the lower deck of their balcony, churning hungrily. Gray’s three teammates clung to the railing.
Manning the wheel again, Gray opened the throttle and gunned his way over to the balcony. He brought the boat alongside them and worked the throttle to hold the craft steady. They climbed over the balcony and dropped on board. Tucker helped Kowalski with Amanda. She stirred enough to lift an arm and swat at the bigger of the two.
Kowalski pushed her arm down. “Sheesh. That’s the thanks I get for hauling your butt up ten flights of stairs.”
With everyone settled, Gray swung away from the sinking tower.
The jet boat was only a four-seater. With six on board, counting Kane, the boat drafted deeper than it should, making it sluggish and slow.
But they were afloat.
The same could not be said for Utopia.
The currents shifted under the boat, dragging the craft strongly to port. Gray corrected against that pull-but it only grew worse.
“Pierce!” Kowalski hollered, drawing his attention away from the currents to the skies above.
He craned his neck in shock.
The tower of the Burj Abaadi leaned precariously over the boat.
Gray searched outward. Across the rest of the island, towers and spires all canted in the same direction, as if blown over by a stiff wind.
Seichan recognized the danger, too. “The island is tipping.”
Gray jammed the throttle forward, picturing the island capsizing.
They needed to get to open water.
Off in the distance, a spire broke from its foundation. It toppled and slowly crashed into a neighboring building.
Closer at hand, a mighty moan vibrated through the waters. It was the deep groan of concrete and steel under stress. No one doubted the source.
All eyes turned to the Burj Abaadi.
4:40 A.M.
It seemed the Eternal Tower was not living up to its name.
Aboard a large patrol boat, Edward bore witness to the island’s slow destruction. A quarter-mile away, Utopia upended, breaking apart, sliding back into the sea, a modern Atlantis. At its center, the Burj Abaadi toppled, the upper levels breaking and sliding off the central axis, like plates toppling from a tall stack.
Word had reached him that the patrols sent to the tower had gone missing. Attempts to raise them on the radio had failed.
It had to be the work of the group that attacked the base.
Measures would have to be taken.
But not without guidance.
Petra stepped through a nearby hatch, carrying a satellite phone in her hand. Her eyes locked with his, warning him it wasn’t good news.
She held out the phone.
He lifted it to his ear and heard the computerized voice greet him. “IS THE CHILD SECURED?”
“Yes.”
“AND THE MOTHER?”
“Dead.”
“THEN COORDINATE ALL FORCES ON-SITE, ESTABLISH A NOOSE AROUND THAT ISLAND. HUNT FOR THOSE WHO ASSAULTED THE STATION.”
“And if they’re found?”
He was given very specific instructions, ending with, “PETRA WILL TAKE MATTERS IN HAND FROM THERE. SHE KNOWS WHAT IS NEEDED.”
He swallowed hard, feeling demoted-but he dared not complain.
And in the end, maybe it was better not to know.
