"I don't understand," Irena said. "Why would my father want to hide that? And why there?"
"The people involved with the project who truly appreciated the magnitude of what they were doing understood that what they were working on could be one of the most dangerous devices in the history of mankind. Had the Germans been successful, the entire course of the world would have been altered. That fear is what caused men like your father and others to want to keep it from the Allies at first, and eventually other evil men like Hitler."
She took in the information as fast as it came, processing what Sean was saying. "All the boat trips out to those islands. They never made any sense until now. Father would take us out there on random days. He made it seem like a Sunday outing. Now it all makes sense."
"The room was built so he could keep watch of the island. The boat trips were to make sure that no one had been tampering with the location or nosing around. And these paintings were created in case he died and you or any other relatives were ever clever enough to figure out what they meant."
A disappointed smile creased one side of her lips. "It would appear I am not clever enough, Sean. But it seems you are."
He blushed. "It's kind of my thing. I look for answers where it looks like there aren't any."
"It certainly is your thing, Sean," a new voice interrupted the two. Sean spun around first, followed more slowly by Irena.
Four men in black neoprene turtlenecks and matching cargo pants stood just inside the doorway. Each of them held SIG Sauer pistols, the barrels pointed directly at Sean and Irena. In the middle of their formation was an older man in a thick, black winter coat and gray pants.
Sean recognized him immediately.
It was a face that had occasionally been featured on the news in the United States, and one that was often in the same room as the president.
"Bravo, Sean," he said in a mocking tone as he took a slow step forward. "I knew that Emily would go to you. You were always her golden boy. When I heard you'd been put back on her little list of rogue agents, I figured you would be the one she chose for this. I have to admit, I love it when everything goes according to plan."
"What plan, Admiral?"
Sean's stare could have cut through stone.
"You know these men?" Irena asked, confused and full of fear. She involuntarily sidled next to Sean.
"Only one," he answered. "Admiral McClain, this is my new friend, Irena. Mind telling us what you're doing here? And how about you order your men to stand down with those pistols?"
Sean hoped he was wrong. The admiral's entrance came across as menacing, like a bull entering the arena. Sean had missed vibes before. Somehow, he didn't think he had this time around.
The admiral halted his approach and put one hand in his pants pocket, while moving the other one to enhance his speech. "Sorry, Sean. Can't do that. We do appreciate you finding the U-boat. I really thought we could handle it, which is why I had my men try to kill you before. Turns out, we needed you after all. Made for a good show back in the states with the folks in charge. And you led us right to it."
Sean's eyebrows knit together in anger and confusion. McClain saw his opponent was lost in the plot and filled him in. "Die Glocke will go to the highest bidder, Sean. A piece of technology with that potential will fetch us hundreds of billions. Sure, we'll have to sell it to someone on the black market who's probably going to use it for less than good intentions, but that won't matter when I'm sitting on my own island. I'll be untouchable."
Sean remained stoic. His poker face was on full throttle. "Money, Admiral? It’s all about a fistful of money? What? Your government pension isn't enough, Admiral?"
The older man let out a laugh. "You know as well as I do that pension isn't enough. Sure, it can take care of the basic necessities. But I'm tired of living a basic, government-funded life. I want to live a little before I die. And I’m not talking about a fistful of cash here. Maybe you didn’t hear me say, billions. With a B."
Sean stared through him with fire filling his pupils. "If you don't tell your men to lower their weapons, that time could come a lot sooner than you expected."
Sean's expression never broke, and his serious tone only caused McClain to flinch for a second before he laughed again.
"Not this time, Sean. You can't win this time. These SEALs are going to kill you now. And we're going to head out to that island to recover the sub and die Glocke."
"So for a little money, you're going to let an innocent woman die and put the world at risk by selling off a dangerous piece of technology?"
McClain feigned thinking about the question for a moment before pursing his lips and nodding sarcastically. "Yeah, basically, that's it."
"And you needed me to find it for you because you couldn't do it on your own. I'm surprised, Admiral. You working with a terrorist organization after so many years of fighting against evil people like that. Must be hard to sleep at night."
McClain was clearly tired of the conversation. "Sean, I appreciate that you're trying to stall here, but there's no one coming to help you. And as far as sleeping at night, it's easier than you think. The Black Ring was never involved in any of this." He spoke as if it should have been obvious. "They don't have the resources to pull off a plan this intricate. Although I suppose if I had been working with them they would have. But no, Sean, the terrorist thing was just a ruse to get you moving. And it worked brilliantly. Now if you'll excuse me. I've got a multibillion dollar piece of Nazi tech to find under that island." He pointed at the painting. "Guess it's a good thing I've got dive gear." He chuckled to himself at the last line and turned his back to Sean and Irena.
She had her hand on Sean's forearm. He could feel her fingers trembling. He kept his eyes forward, peering at the five men on the other side of the room. With his lower peripheral vision, he kept the .22 in the drawer within sight, only a foot away from his right hand.
"Last chance to tell your men to stand down, Admiral. Do it, or every one of you will die."
McClain stopped as he was about to step back through the doorway. He paused for a moment, staring down at the floor. The tension in the room hung there like a thick fog.
He barely turned his head when he uttered the words. "Kill them."
Sean was a half second faster with his next action. Before McClain's second word came out, he grabbed Irena by the wrist and yanked her down behind the desk. In the same motion, his other hand snatched the pistol from the drawer as he dropped down for cover next to her. The room filled with the sound of muffled gunfire as the SEALs unleashed a barrage of hot metal at their position. The rounds peppered the desk, but none got through the thick wood, and it was deep enough that the men in the doorway couldn't get a clear shot from where they stood.
The volley continued until every man's magazine was empty. A few of the rounds had gone astray, striking the wood paneled wall facing Sean. He glanced over at Irena who had stopped trembling and sat on the floor in a curled up position with her wrists wrapped around her knees. She didn't look afraid. In fact, the expression on her face was one of anger. Sean didn't see any blood, so he returned his attention to the intruders. He made a quick check of the chamber to make sure a round was there. As he hoped, it was ready to fire.
He knew their next move would be to send two men around each end of the desk. He heard their clips being released. That was his opening, and he doubted they knew he was armed. He rolled around the corner of the desk and squeezed the trigger, adjusting his aim after the fact. The first bullet went wide of the man to the far right, but the second went straight through the quadriceps of his right leg and into the bone. The victim dropped to one knee, clutching the wound with his free hand but jammed his fresh magazine into the grip of the gun by tapping it on his leg. He ignored the wound, pulled back the slide, and took aim a second later, but the shot never came. Sean fired two more rounds, one into the man's clavicle and the other into his neck.