An explosion rang off the port side, then the starboard side.
“Two boats down, two left,” Edgar said. “I’ll deal with them in a minute.”
Katrina kept pressure on her wound, but the combination of bruised rib and gunshot wound made breathing a painful chore. Stars broke before her vision, and fear gripped her in that moment.
She had minutes before she lost consciousness.
Stay with it. Your people need you.
Katrina blinked and filled her lungs.
More gunfire cracked outside, followed by shouts.
Edgar returned to the bridge a moment later, assault rifle cradled across his chest. But Katrina wasn’t deceived. She could see blood leaking down the armor over his upper chest.
“Jaideep?” she asked.
Edgar shook his dreadlocks.
“Just us three now,” Katrina said. “Edgar, are you with me?”
He nodded. “Till the end, ma’am.”
“Good. Keep them off the bridge. I just need a few minutes.” She looked over at Eevi. “Go to the cargo hold and take the last Zodiac.”
“Ma’am, no,” Eevi said.
“That’s an order. Your husband is still alive out there. Go find him.”
Eevi stood up from her station, her face flushed. She hesitated, then threw up a salute.
“I won’t forget this, ma’am. No one will,” Eevi said. She stopped to give Edgar a hug before leaving the command center.
Katrina took another deep breath and stared at the metal hatches covering the broken port windows. She pushed a button, dropping them to give her a view of what lay ahead. They had crossed the barrier into darkness. The lights on the oil rigs blazed in the distance. Spotlight beams from the boats that had retreated earlier hit the USS Zion, making the weather deck bright as day.
There were still so many boats, and even more were coming from the oil rigs. Rowboats and fishing vessels filled with civilians. Everyone seemed to be rallying behind the octopus banner.
These people were ready to die for their home, just as her people were ready to die to take it from them.
She felt that familiar lump of dread in the pit of her stomach, but her heart knew that this was the right decision. El Pulpo was a cancer that had to be removed from the Metal Islands, just as Leon Jordan had been excised from the Hive. She would complete her mission even if it meant that some of her people, including her, had to die.
She heard pounding on the hatch to the deck. The enemy was outside, trying to get in. Edgar leveled his rifle and took several steps back until he was beside Katrina.
She tabbed the monitor on her right, smearing blood on the screen as she set a course straight for the enemy fleet.
Magnolia had been right. There were too many to fight.
Katrina pushed the binos up to her failing eyes. Two larger ships like the container ship she had destroyed were out in front—a floating wall of rusty metal.
She swept the glasses back and forth until she found the shiny boat with two stacks, and…
“No,” Katrina whispered. “That can’t be.”
Were her eyes playing tricks on her? Or was that really Magnolia?
Katrina coughed up blood and spat but kept the binos on the long boat. The woman tied to the windshield post looked just like her friend.
“I’m sorry I failed you, Mags,” she said aloud, “but I won’t fail our people.”
Katrina tapped the screen again, plotting a course directly for the two big ships blocking the way to the capitol tower. Dozens of sailors were on deck, pointing their guns at the USS Zion.
She steered right at them.
“I’m so sorry, Magnolia,” Katrina whispered. She opened a channel to Michael. “Raptor One, this is Captain DaVita, transmitting one final time. It’s up to you and Deliverance now. I love you all, and I was proud to serve as your captain.”
She closed the channel before anyone could respond.
Her body felt numb, the pain gone now. A bad sign. She was running out of time.
Please, just let me finish this…
Banging continued on the hatch, and a window shattered. Shouting came from inside the ship.
“They’re inside,” Edgar said.
“Hold ’em—” A loud whirring cut Katrina off. She unbuckled her harness to watch a massive object consume a swath of stars. Deliverance came in low over the water, and Katrina stood to watch.
Flashes of gunfire sparkled from the boats as the USS Zion plowed toward them. Bullets pounded the bridge. One punched through her armor, then another, her body jerking from the impacts.
Edgar dropped to the deck and reached up to pull Katrina down to safety, but she remained standing even as more bullets riddled her body. She took her final breath with a smile on her face, watching as Deliverance fired a salvo of missiles into the enemy armada.
Team Raptor had made it down to the thirtieth floor of the capitol tower. The central platform was lush with gardens, fruit trees, and a sparkling pool, but violence had torn the beauty asunder. Bushes still burned, tree limbs were broken, and fruit lay splattered on the ground.
“Coming in for another run in a few minutes,” Layla said over the comms. “Got another package for el Pulpo. How you doing down there, Commander Everhart?”
Now you use my formal name, he thought.
“Holding strong,” he replied. A white lie since the team was pinned down and running low on ammo. He looked through his binos at the field of burning debris on the water.
A massive wake rippled away from the zone of destruction. The USS Zion had plowed into two thin-skinned container ships, and both were sinking, one bow and one stern tilted upward and sliding under the dark water.
Reinforcements were coming from the other oil rigs as bells chimed, recruiting anyone who could fight. Not all the Cazadores were warriors, though. Breaking their way into the top floor of the tower, the team had even found some who spoke English, and this was where the man in the nice suit told him el Pulpo was keeping the “sky people.”
But when Team Raptor arrived, they found empty cages under a statue of an octopus, and a dozen soldiers waiting for them. The team took cover behind a rock wall.
Michael looked at the cages. Where the hell were X, Mags, and Miles?
Katrina’s message replayed in his mind, and now he knew that it was final. He had seen the USS Zion plow into burning ships as rockets streaked into its command center. Her last act as captain had been the most heroic he ever witnessed, providing a distraction so Deliverance could come in and take out most of the Cazador boats. The airship had retreated into the dark skies.
The sight of the USS Zion dead in the water, with Cazadores boarding it, filled him with rage.
If his friends weren’t dead, they would be soon.
He wiped away a tear. This was not the time to grieve—it was the time to avenge the brave souls on the warship.
Screaming, he popped up over the stone wall and fired a bolt through a Cazador running toward them. The man splashed into the pool, sending up a puff of steam from the cool water.
Another soldier lay facedown, turning the pool pink with his blood. The brazen man had run right into their fire, screaming wildly, just as Michael was doing right now.
All the warriors seemed to enjoy fighting, and many, like this guy, were downright suicidal.
He checked his team. Les had survived a shot to his helmet that knocked him out cold, but he was back on his feet.
Alexander had taken a round to the fleshy part of his thigh. Trey had been shot in the ankle, and still hadn’t stopped fighting. The father-son team continued to lay down a field of fire at the Cazador soldiers trying to storm their position.