word on that app—”
A thunderous roar resonated through the oil rig. More glassware tumbled from the shelves. A pipe burst, and clouds of white gas plumed from its gaping wound. Scott lost his footing, and Jenna caught him. Then a second explosion tore through the platform. This one seemed closer. Maybe only a deck below. The emergency lights flickered on and off.
The platform had been rigged to detonate. It was a final precaution to send the hulking steel behemoth plunging into the ocean along with the Skulls and all evidence of the bioweapons research on it. Dom guessed the power outage had disrupted the programmed explosives. Now there was no way to know when and where the bombs would go off.
“Go, go, go!” Dom yelled.
Another blast shook the platform. Dom sprinted behind his Hunters as they charged past the picked-apart corpse they’d seen earlier in the corridor. He fought for breath as he ran full speed. They made it out onto the platform’s main deck in a matter of minutes. Renee and her squad pounded up the stairs after them as smoke billowed from the platform’s interior. She gave him a silent nod, the fear and urgency in her expression undoubtedly matching the look on his face .
As they sprinted across the empty helipad over the deck, Dom realized they weren’t the only ones desperate to escape the flames spouting from the rig. The gargled yells and shrieking wails of the Skulls pierced his eardrums as the creatures spilled from the bowels of the platform and out on the main deck.
-11-
––––––––
M eredith Webb caught the sour scent of rotting fruit as she crouched behind the dumpster. She could see the silhouettes of two agents striding toward her location, weapons drawn. She knew they, like her, wore NVGs; the darkness wouldn’t be enough to conceal her position. She drew back behind a pile of trash bags someone had been too lazy to throw in the dumpster. When one agent moved close enough, she pounced. She swept a leg out to knock him from his feet and caught him in one swift motion. She pulled the man’s handgun from his grip and pressed it to his temple.
In a low voice, she spoke to the second agent. “Don’t do anything stupid, or he’s dead. Got it?”
The second agent lowered his weapon but said nothing.
“Got it?” She pressed the muzzle of her weapon harder into her hostage’s skin.
The second agent nodded.
“Give me your radio, cell, and pistol.”
The man thrust his hand into his pocket.
“Slowly,” Meredith added.
He was young, smooth-skinned. Meredith figured this might’ve been his first assignment with any real action. She recalled her own days as a brash new agent, serving in the CIA with Dom as a partner. On their first field outing, they'd been tasked with taking down a homegrown bioterrorist cult growing deadly strains of E. coli. The group had been ready to deploy their weaponized bacteria in an attack in Oregon, but Dom and Meredith had stormed in even though the agency hadn't yet authorized their infiltration of the bioterrorists' suspected facility. An intense gunfight with a dozen holed-up terrorists led to Dom taking a bullet through his shoulder and Meredith receiving a gunshot wound in her thigh. Yet they had kept fighting through the pain until the final terrorist, the leader of the cult, surrendered.
She saw a flicker of that same brazenness in the novice agent as the man pulled out his cellphone. She knew he wouldn't cooperate easily.
“Throw it over here,” Meredith said.
He hesitated before taking a step forward.
Her muscles tensed. She could sense his eagerness to take her down. “Don’t take another step.”
The agent’s jaw seemed to tighten, and his hand slipped into his jacket.
Meredith readjusted her aim and fired a suppressed shot into the agent’s thigh. The man went down, his hands clenching the leg wound, and the hidden pistol from his chest holster clattered across the asphalt.
“Fuck!” The agent yelped. He
A thunderous roar resonated through the oil rig. More glassware tumbled from the shelves. A pipe burst, and clouds of white gas plumed from its gaping wound. Scott lost his footing, and Jenna caught him. Then a second explosion tore through the platform. This one seemed closer. Maybe only a deck below. The emergency lights flickered on and off.
The platform had been rigged to detonate. It was a final precaution to send the hulking steel behemoth plunging into the ocean along with the Skulls and all evidence of the bioweapons research on it. Dom guessed the power outage had disrupted the programmed explosives. Now there was no way to know when and where the bombs would go off.
“Go, go, go!” Dom yelled.
Another blast shook the platform. Dom sprinted behind his Hunters as they charged past the picked-apart corpse they’d seen earlier in the corridor. He fought for breath as he ran full speed. They made it out onto the platform’s main deck in a matter of minutes. Renee and her squad pounded up the stairs after them as smoke billowed from the platform’s interior. She gave him a silent nod, the fear and urgency in her expression undoubtedly matching the look on his face .
As they sprinted across the empty helipad over the deck, Dom realized they weren’t the only ones desperate to escape the flames spouting from the rig. The gargled yells and shrieking wails of the Skulls pierced his eardrums as the creatures spilled from the bowels of the platform and out on the main deck.
-11-
––––––––
M eredith Webb caught the sour scent of rotting fruit as she crouched behind the dumpster. She could see the silhouettes of two agents striding toward her location, weapons drawn. She knew they, like her, wore NVGs; the darkness wouldn’t be enough to conceal her position. She drew back behind a pile of trash bags someone had been too lazy to throw in the dumpster. When one agent moved close enough, she pounced. She swept a leg out to knock him from his feet and caught him in one swift motion. She pulled the man’s handgun from his grip and pressed it to his temple.
In a low voice, she spoke to the second agent. “Don’t do anything stupid, or he’s dead. Got it?”
The second agent lowered his weapon but said nothing.
“Got it?” She pressed the muzzle of her weapon harder into her hostage’s skin.
The second agent nodded.
“Give me your radio, cell, and pistol.”
The man thrust his hand into his pocket.
“Slowly,” Meredith added.
He was young, smooth-skinned. Meredith figured this might’ve been his first assignment with any real action. She recalled her own days as a brash new agent, serving in the CIA with Dom as a partner. On their first field outing, they'd been tasked with taking down a homegrown bioterrorist cult growing deadly strains of E. coli. The group had been ready to deploy their weaponized bacteria in an attack in Oregon, but Dom and Meredith had stormed in even though the agency hadn't yet authorized their infiltration of the bioterrorists' suspected facility. An intense gunfight with a dozen holed-up terrorists led to Dom taking a bullet through his shoulder and Meredith receiving a gunshot wound in her thigh. Yet they had kept fighting through the pain until the final terrorist, the leader of the cult, surrendered.
She saw a flicker of that same brazenness in the novice agent as the man pulled out his cellphone. She knew he wouldn't cooperate easily.
“Throw it over here,” Meredith said.
He hesitated before taking a step forward.
Her muscles tensed. She could sense his eagerness to take her down. “Don’t take another step.”
The agent’s jaw seemed to tighten, and his hand slipped into his jacket.
Meredith readjusted her aim and fired a suppressed shot into the agent’s thigh. The man went down, his hands clenching the leg wound, and the hidden pistol from his chest holster clattered across the asphalt.
“Fuck!” The agent yelped. He
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