Deep Fathom

“He’s in quadrant four,” David radioed his men. “Circle the area and keep him contained.” On his command, the other three jet skis swung around, circling toward the designated region. He listened to the chatter over the radio as his team closed the noose.

David allowed himself a hard smile. Darkness was Omega team’s ally. While Jack stumbled around blindly, his own men, equipped with goggles and UV lanterns, moved with skill and certainty. He watched the trap tighten. He would end this tonight.

He touched his microphone. “Jeffreys, check out the island where Jack was hiding. Make sure he hasn’t left anyone behind.” David knew it was not above Jack to play hero, leading his team on a wild goose chase while the real prize lay hidden.

Below, he heard a jet ski throttle up. He had held Omega team’s last jet ski in reserve, for emergencies and backup. Now, the jet ski roared away, angling toward the tiny islet.

Sighing, David returned his attention to the chase. When they first arrived, he had ordered his men to capture Kirkland and the others alive. But the man was proving more of an adversary than he’d imagined. As a consequence, he adjusted his estimation of Kirkland and upgraded his order to “Kill on sight.”

Still, he found it frustrating. His team had been outwitted. He’d spent many hours pla

Even now David was not entirely certain how Jack and the others had escaped his trap. Rolfe and Handel had sketched a story of Jack using some sort of stone shield to flee into hiding. Then he apparently disappeared down some secret tu

From his vantage point, David watched as Jack’s jet ski was encircled within an especially cramped section of the ruins. All exits from the area were blocked by his men. Jack was trapped. He would not escape a second time.

“Get him!” David ordered. “Shoot to kill!” Gleefully, he watched his men close in. If he couldn’t be there personally, this was the next best thing — watching Jack hunted down like a dog and shot.

“I see him!” one of the men shouted over the radio. The jet ski in the background made it difficult to hear.

Rifle fire rang out, the sound echoing over the ruins. Off to the left a flurry of birds took flight from their nests, frightened by the blast. But David’s scope remained fixed on the glowing mote of Jack and his jet ski.

The spot flared brightly, stinging his eyes like a camera flash. Swearing, David shoved away the night vision goggles and blinked away the glare. He stared across the ruins.

Noises of victory sounded over his radio. David clenched a fist of satisfaction. Across the dark islands a bonfire burned high into the sky, reflecting off the waters.

The radio squelched, and Rolfe’s voice whispered in his ear, “We got him, sir. Blew his ass out of the water. The target’s eliminated.”

Down in the tu

And now the gunshot and explosion.

Karen held a fist at her throat, praying Jack was okay.

Ahead, Mwahu crouched in the low passage. He held her small penlight. It was their only source of light.

“Keep going,” Miyuki said, voice trembling. “There’s nothing we can do to help Jack.”

Mwahu nodded. Karen followed them.

The tu

“Not much further,” Mwahu promised.

Karen hoped so. Rather than safe, she felt helpless and trapped down here. It seemed with each step she took, she was abandoning Jack to the murderous scum back there. If only her pistol had not been confiscated back in Japan…

Mwahu turned a corner and gestured to her and Miyuki. “Come see!”

They quickly joined the islander. Beyond the turn in the tu

Karen was a moment too slow to realize the danger. “Wait!”

Miyuki and Mwahu were already outside.

Karen stumbled after them. She pointed at Mwahu’s light. “Turn it off!”

Mwahu gaped at his light as if it were a poisonous snake and dropped it.

Diving down, Karen retrieved the penlight and flicked it off. Straightening, she surveyed their surroundings. They had exited a squat basalt building, not far from the shore of Temwen Island. In fact, the stone quay where they had rented their canoes lay less than fifty meters away.

She looked down at the extinguished light. Had it been spotted? Had they just thwarted Jack’s attempt to draw the others away?

The answer came soon enough. Karen heard the whine of a jet ski escalate. Someone was coming to investigate. She eyed the distance between them and the coastal gate. The assassins, alerted now, would know where her group was heading — where else could they go?

She closed her eyes and made a decision, then flicked on the light.

“What are you doing?” Miyuki said.

“They know we’ll try for the exit. But if I run the other way with the flashlight”—Karen pointed in the opposite direction—“they’ll have to follow.”

“Karen…?”

She reached out and clutched her friend’s arm. “Go. I dragged you into all this. I’ll get you out.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do.” She stared Miyuki down as the noise of the jet ski grew louder. “Go!”

Karen backed away, lifting her penlight high. She hopped into the canal. This close to the shore, the waters were shallow, only chest-deep. She slogged and swam away from the coastal gate. Behind her, she heard splashes as Miyuki and Mwahu jumped into the canal and made for the exit.

Alone, Karen swam through the murky water, trying to put as much distance as possible between her and the others. She soon lost sight of the exit. Only shadowy walls surrounded her.

But she was not completely alone.

She heard the growl of the jet ski as it roared toward her.

David rode behind Jeffreys on the jet ski. He clenched his teeth in a silent curse. Kirkland had tried to play him the fool.

Shortly after the explosion, Lieutenant Jeffreys had reported in. David had almost forgotten he had sent the man to reco

This news had puzzled David. Where had Kirkland stashed the others? His primary assignment, after all, had been to kidnap the Canadian anthropologist and retrieve her crystal sample. Suspicious about their absence, he had ordered Jeffreys to come and get him. Together they would search the surrounding islets. The others had to be somewhere.