Chapter 16 - Deep Water Infiltration
“Admiral,” the communications officer called out, relief flooding his face. “We just received confirmation from Agent Vance on the mainland.” “The mercenary strike team has been neutralized.” “Your family is safe, and the backup authorization file has been permanently deleted from the local servers.” I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, letting out a breath I felt like I had been holding for an eternity. “Good,” I said, opening my eyes, my gaze hardening into pure, unadulterated steel. “But Thorne doesn't know that yet.” I turned to Nathan, who was already strapping an underwater assault rifle to his chest rig. “He is going to realize the mainland team failed within minutes,” I told Nathan. “Once he knows he can't get the authorization code, he is going to try to manually override the detonation sequence from inside the facility.” Nathan nodded, pulling his matte-black diving helmet over his head. “Then we don't give him the time,” Nathan replied, his voice digitized and mechanical through the helmet’s comms unit. “The SEAL extraction team is prepped in the airlock.” “We board that underwater fortress and tear it apart from the inside.” I stripped off my formal uniform jacket, revealing a sleek, tactical combat suit underneath. I grabbed my own rebreather helmet and an assault rifle from the armory rack. “I'm going with you,” I stated, locking a fresh magazine into the weapon. Nathan paused, looking at me through the dark visor of his helmet. “Evelyn, you are an Admiral,” he said softly. “Your place is on the command deck, coordinating the strike.” “My place is finishing the ghosts of my past,” I replied, stepping past him toward the airlock door. “Elias Thorne is my responsibility.” The transition from the dry, pressurized submarine to the freezing, crushing depths of the ocean was violently jarring. The water outside was pitch black, illuminated only by the faint, sweeping beams of our shoulder-mounted tactical lights. We swam in perfect, silent formation, a squad of six elite operators gliding through the water like predatory sharks. The rogue underwater facility loomed ahead of us like a massive, metallic scar on the ocean floor. It was built into the side of the tectonic ridge, heavily fortified with thick titanium plating and external automated defense turrets. “Turrets are sweeping left to right,” Nathan’s voice crackled in my earpiece. “Wait for the blind spot.” We hovered in the freezing water, timing the mechanical rotation of the massive underwater guns. “Now,” Nathan commanded. We surged forward, kicking our fins with explosive power, closing the gap before the turrets could swing back around. Nathan slapped a specialized magnetic breaching charge onto the facility’s external airlock hatch. “Breaching in three, two, one.” The charge detonated with a muffled, underwater thump, blowing the heavy steel hatch completely off its hinges.
