Alec guided the craft upward without comment, clearly glad to be done with them. As they approached the bottom of the ship and the water’s rolling surface, the Greek pilot turned to them with a frown.
“I am getting no reply from the ship.”
Bodie stared. “How do you mean?”
“The frequency. It has been turned off. We are now on our own.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The communication channel has been—”
A blast cut him off, a booming explosion, and the vessel tumbled sideways. Bodie hung on, grabbed Jemma by the arm. Cassidy fell to her knees before clutching a metal strut. A spark ignited a flame in the console, making the lights flicker. Bodie saw a leak spring forth as the submersible slowed and Alec reached frantically for a fire extinguisher.
“Plug the hole!” he cried. “Now!”
Struggling to remain upright, he sprayed with abandon and put out the flames. Another spark flashed in front of his eyes, but didn’t catch fire. Bodie saw a tiny hole along one seam and crawled over as fast as he could. The water was just trickling, but still an incredibly scary sight inside the metal chamber. The pilot threw Bodie some special clay and he molded it to the hole.
Gradually, they righted.
“What was that?” Jemma breathed.
The pilot brought them up beneath the ship. “A bomb,” he said carefully. “Somebody dropped something over the ship’s side. I heard other explosions too. Possibly grenades.”
“The Bratva?” Cassidy asked.
“Unlikely,” Bodie said. “Surely they would make their move after we returned, but I guess it’s possible.”
“Maybe Zeus wasn’t alone after all,” Jemma said.
Alec eyed them doubtfully. “Zeus?”
“It’s a long story, dude,” Cassidy said. “Now, can you get us quietly onto that ship?”
“Won’t we still be registering on radar?” Jemma asked.
“Sure.” Cassidy nodded. “But they won’t know we’re alive, right?”
“Communications are down,” Alec said, nodding. “All transmissions lost. They might think we are floundering, bobbing around, and I can simulate that. As for letting you out of here… we would have to surface.”
“You can’t… flood it?”
Alec looked scared. “The sub would sink faster than it filled.”
“Understood,” Bodie said. “Then we surface. Fast.”
He was aware the comms system had been fine not so long ago. Whatever had happened up there had happened recently, and might still be happening. There was no better time to act and no better cover for their vessel.
Alec brought the submersible higher and higher, and Cassidy moved into place, ready to twist the wheel and open the hatch the moment the vessel surfaced. Another minute and Alec nodded at her. Cassidy opened the hatch carefully, pushing it upward until daylight streamed into the metal chamber.
“It’s not dry land,” she said. “But it’s better than the bottom of the sea.”
Bodie watched as her muscles bulged, the cords under her skin standing out as she climbed into open air and the shadows cast by the ship. He was right behind her, the two crouching on the sub’s unsound curved metal surface. The first thing he heard was yelling, then laughing. A gunshot rang out. More laughing. Jemma joined them and the three crept vigilantly toward the rear of the vessel and the stern of the boat, where it floated low, probably due to the weighty cranes bolted to its rear deck. Due to the height of the submersible, they were able to leap to the side of the ship, where they hung for a moment before pulling themselves aboard.
More gunfire rattled overhead — automatic this time. A man fell over the top rail, tumbling from the highest deck. Bodie turned away as he landed a few meters to their left.
Without pause, Cassidy ran over and checked the body. Bodie recognized one of the Bratva soldiers. Cassidy shook her head and looked for any weapons. Her expression said it all.
Nothing.
They ducked for cover, running parallel to the side of the ship and forward. Bodie found an open door and checked inside. It was clear, but revealed nothing except a rickety, rusted ladder leading to the second deck. Bodie took his time while Cassidy watched their rear. He emerged behind a wide, white-painted stanchion that supported a small gantry crane. All the commotion now seemed to be coming from the front deck. Bodie waited, not liking it, the thief’s instinct taking over. Spotting the way forward, he quickly signaled the other two to join him.
“See there? Steps leading up to the control room? If we can sneak inside we can see what’s going on.”
The coast was clear, all the noise emanating from beyond the bridge. Bodie led the way, pausing after each step, and soon they were easing open the rear door and ducking inside.
A thin man with a ponytail whipped his head around. Bodie saw the firearm dangling off his shoulder and darted in. The man registered surprise and reached for the gun, but Bodie slammed him off his feet, staggering as he did so. Both went down. The man retained the gun, scrabbling to bring it to bear. Bodie fell awkwardly and couldn’t react in time.
Cassidy picked up a metal chair and slammed the legs hard into the man’s face. Immediately, all struggle stopped. She reached out to help Bodie up.
“That’s how you do it, Flash.”
Bodie gave her a grin, and then crept over to the broad window that looked out from the control room across the front deck and over the ship’s prow.
“It’s worse than I thought.”
“A terrible understatement.” Cassidy groaned.
Jemma’s sharp intake of breath was enough. They saw a large group gathered on the triangular deck. The bulk of it was younger men wearing T-shirts and jeans and carrying semiautos, currently being held next to their thighs as they stood watching. Others were older, more important-looking, and standing closer to the man who appeared to be in charge.
Viktor Davydov.
Bodie gently cracked a window so they could hear what was passing among the rough crowd.
At the center of the loose circle were Heidi and Cross, Lucie and Gunn, kneeling alongside the ship’s captain and other members of the crew. The Bratva fighters who’d accompanied them were there too.
All but Yasmine and Hakim.
The small crane at the ship’s prow had some adornments — Yasmine and Hakim, chained to the uprights with cuffs and rope, both with arms stretched up high and faces bloodied. They were struggling to remain on tiptoes, their bodies swaying a little.
“You think I didn’t know?” Viktor’s voice came across as such a shriek Bodie imagined him spraying spittle. “You two? Fucking in private and then fucking me over? You think you’re clever?”
He aimed a handgun at them and fired. Bodie assumed the bullet passed between them because nobody screamed in pain.
“I knew you were Interpol! I knew. It pleased me to corrupt you, to taint you, to watch you suffer in all those little ways. Turning the screw!” As he cried out the last word he fired again. Both Yasmine and Hakim flinched, their bodies swinging. Behind Viktor, several men stood guard, guns trained on the captives, but even from here Bodie could see Cross and Heidi tensing as if preparing to attack.
“This is gonna go so bad,” he whispered. “Cross knows and Heidi is experienced enough to know that they’re not walking out of this. Whatever happens, they’ll all be shot.”
“And I know where Eli’s head is,” Cassidy breathed.
“Right there on his shoulders,” Jemma said. “Where we want it to stay.”
Bodie searched for a plan. They had one semiautomatic and a couple of grenades that Ponytail had been carrying. It would have to be enough. He studied his companions and knew he’d have to make a hard decision.