The most glorious sound in his life.
Water erupted from the stern of the first ship with a violent screech of protesting metal. The whole freighter lurched, groaning right as a second explosion boomed from another ship. That vessel listed violently to its starboard side. Shipping containers slid across the deck, and Skulls spilled into the water. Sailors started to rush from the superstructure of the vessels. They jumped into the water or scrambled to get across the deck filled with the Skulls. Several of the sailors were crushed as the ship’s listing grew worse and sent more massive shipping containers sliding across the deck.
Both ships started to take on water, their sterns dipping deeper into the harbor. They and their cargo would not be going anywhere.
But the third still floated, unharmed. No explosion had boomed from near its props.
Andris hit the detonator again and again.
Nothing happened.
“We have to stop that ship,” he muttered.
O’Neil looked at his men, ragged, covered and blood. Then back at the mercs. “What happens if we don’t? Can we stop it some other way?”
“I don’t know.” Meredith gulped hard. “It looks to me like they’re staging armies of Skulls. They’ll use Hybrids like you all to control those armies. We knew they were preparing to make shipments of something from around the world, and now we know why.”
“Judging by the number of shipping containers on that ship, if they’re all filled with Skulls, any one of those hordes would be enough to wipe out a small country,” Glenn said.
“Then there’s no question that we have to stop them,” O’Neil said.
The pier was beginning to fill with Skulls that had escaped the mess of the sinking ships. Other beasts were still pouring over the walls and streaming between the warehouses. O’Neil lost any hope of seeing Stuart or Henderson again in that avalanche of monsters. Russian Hybrids and soldiers were everywhere, fighting back against the monsters while still raining fire down on the mercs and O’Neil’s people.
The sailors on the third ship were already releasing the chains holding them to the pier. Only one shipping container of Skulls had gotten loose on the vessel, and they were managing to fight back against the monsters. O’Neil could already see they would regain control of the freighter—and as soon as they did, they would continue out safely to sea, escaping the destruction of the Tangier port.
“We got to stop that ship,” Tate said.
“Imagine if it got to Maryland,” Loeb said. “Frederick would be overwhelmed by a force a quarter the size.”
O’Neil could tell the man wasn’t just thinking about the seat of the US government. There was a sadness in his eyes behind the skeletal mask. His daughters…
“Can’t we call in support?” Tate asked the mercs.
“By the time they arrived, that ship might already be out to sea,” Meredith said. “It’ll be too late.”
“Then we have no choice,” O’Neil said. “We have to go back and destroy it.”
-35-
O’Neil looked back at the freighter. The ship taunted them, floating unperturbed as the other two sank beside it.
But those two ships weren’t the only two things sinking. He felt the signals from the other Hybrids he had sent out fade completely. Not because they had shifted focus. But because they were dead.
He felt it with absolute certainty. Like those pheromones they exuded provided a kind of radar, pinging between the Hybrids he’d been imprisoned with for so long.
The constant rattle of gunfire and the screams of the Skulls overwhelming the positions where those others had been sent made it all too clear that the entire situation would soon be out of control.
That there was very little hope of leaving this place with Stuart or Henderson. The Moroccan prisoners who had gone with them probably shared a similar fate, buried under the press of Russian soldiers and Hybrids.
“We’ve lost most of the remaining Hybrids,” he said. “Maybe all of them.”
“You can tell?” Meredith asked.
The wind curled around O’Neil, fluttering the tattered remains of his uniform. “The signal or whatever it is just feels weaker.” He worked his jaw muscles, his pulse growing slower, taking big gulps of air. Another wave of pain poured through his body. Without the rage to distract him, without the pheromones from the others, the agony took hold of his limbs and guts once more. The contorted expressions on Loeb’s and Tate’s faces showed they must be feeling the same. “We’ve got to finish this fast. We’re losing control.”
Andris patted his pack. “We only have two more bombs. This must count.”
“I’ll take them to the ship,” Glenn said.
“Send me with him,” Spencer said. “We’ll end this bullshit right here, right now.”
These mercs were ready to sacrifice themselves. Because O’Neil saw no other way they would accomplish this mission. They would need to spear through a veritable wall of Skulls and soldiers and enemy Hybrids to make it back to the remaining freighter. The entire port base had turned into hell on Earth, with demonic monsters clashing against humans. Not a lick of refuge in sight.
For the first time, he truly believed these mercs were trying to do good. They were willing to run headlong into that hellish mix of monsters and men. They had to know they would die if they did. That there would be no return trip.
It reminded O’Neil that these people weren’t just military contractors working for a dime. They were people who had served the same country he did with a similar passion and dedication. Former Rangers and SEALs and Marines and Special Forces.
They had chosen this vocation not because it was easy.
Not because it would make them rich.
No, they had chosen it for the reasons O’Neil had become a SEAL.
Because they believed in their cause. They believed in their duty to protect those who could not defend themselves.
They would lay down their lives to save others.
But these Hunters were healthy. Human. They still had their lives ahead of them—lives which O’Neil hoped could be used to help combat the Oni Agent and any of the Russians that escaped from this base today.
O’Neil did not have a future like that. None of the Hybrid prisoners did. And, as much as it pained him to admit, Tate and Loeb didn’t either.
They were all monsters. They were in intense pain. And even though these mercs had promised that maybe they could help his condition, he doubted it. There were much larger problems in the world to worry about than a handful of men who had become experimental subjects.
The Hunters began discussing their plans. Who would drive through the enemy forces. Who would cover them. They didn’t even bother discussing how they would make their way back to their planned exfil point. They knew they were on a boat ride down the river Styx to the Underworld.
O’Neil couldn’t take it any longer. He interrupted their plans.
“No,” he said. “None of you stands a chance. The Skulls will eat you alive if you don’t get shot first.”
“We have no choice,” Jenna said. “I’ll swim from here if I have to.”
“Too slow,” O’Neil said. “The ship will make it out of port before you reach it.” Then he gestured to the rest of his Hybrid Team. Loeb. Tate. Hassan. They were all that was left. “We are three Navy SEALs and a Moroccan citizen with nothing to lose. We have the armor and speed. We can do this for you.”
Andris hesitated, looking at Meredith. They seemed to share an uncertain glance as if they didn’t have faith in the Hybrids.
“Trust me,” O’Neil said. “I will get this done. You just make sure that your people keep up their end of the bargain. Take out the command center. Then get the hell out of here. Tell the world what you saw in Tangier.”