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A flash image. There and gone.

Grace smiled and squeezed off five more shots.

She heard a scream.

And then the wall five feet to her right exploded, showering her with debris. A chunk of rock the size of a fist struck her on the side of her shoulder, and her last shot was high and wide.

Grace fell over and her gun vanished into the darkness.

A moment later Hecate slammed into her, snarling and spitting with insane rage, grabbing her arms with insane strength.

“You fucking bitch!” snarled Hecate as she drove Grace Courtland into the dirt. They rolled over and over again through the darkness, tumbling sideways down the hill away from the waterfall, colliding with rocks and smashing through plants. Hecate snarled continuously and Grace could feel hot spittle on her face and throat. The woman was enormously strong, her fingers like iron bands crushing into Grace’s arms with enough force to crush skin and muscle.

Grace jammed a forearm under Hecate’s chin to keep those sharp white teeth away from her throat. With her other hand she shoved back on the woman’s shoulder, trying to create space. Grace twisted to bring her knee up between them, using the long thighbone as a strut to separate them.

What the hell was she fighting? Had this mad bitch used her own genetic science on herself? Everything about Hecate provoked an image of one of the big fighting cats. Hecate even hissed like a panther.

Hecate suddenly let go of Grace’s arms and grabbed her throat. It was like being crushed by a vise. All at once Grace was unable to breathe.

Grace stopped pushing on Hecate’s shoulder and immediately hit her in the face-once, twice, again, pounding on the side of Hecate’s cheek and eye socket. The pressure eased by a tiny fraction. Grace dragged in a spoonful of air, but then Hecate tightened her grip, overlapping her thumbs to try to crush the windpipe. Grace pressed her chin down on the thumbs, forcing them against her sternum to slow the choke while continuing to hammer at Hecate. She cupped her palm and slapped Hecate over the ear.

Instantly Hecate howled in pain and toppled sideways. Grace pivoted on the floor and kicked out with both feet, catching Hecate on the hip and stomach, driving her farther away. Grace didn’t want to escape; she needed to breathe and reorganize. She spun around and came up into a crouch.

OTTO WIRTHS TORE away the decorative vegetation and ran his hands over the panel. The moss had hidden four wing nuts and Otto grabbed the first one and tried to twist it. It resisted and he growled in fury and frustration-and then it moved. He spun it around and around until it reached the end of the thread and fell away.

“Hurry!” Cyrus urged. “They’re breaking through the wall.”

“I am hurrying, damn it.” Otto attacked the second one, which was stuck just as firmly as the first. “What about Hecate?”

Cyrus was invisible beside him. He said, “She’ll catch up.”

The second wing nut began to turn. “And if she doesn’t?”

“We have a large family, Otto.”

Otto dropped the second wing nut and began turning the third. That one was looser and it yielded immediately. The fourth was harder, but he threw all of his strength at it and the nut turned.

“Otto…,” Cyrus hissed. “I hear something…”

THERE WAS A second and much bigger explosion and debris flew outward into the chamber. A jagged piece of stone whistled through the air and struck Grace on the side of the head and she spun and fell facedown on the grass and did not move.

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Three

The Dragon Factory

Tuesday, August 31, 2:55 A.M.

Time Remaining on the Extinction Clock: 33 hours, 5 minutes E.S.T.

The moment I leaned close to the hole in the wall I heard a male voice yell, “They’re breaking through! Get us out!…”

A second male voice yelled, “Hecate… did you kill that bitch?”

“I don’t know,” a woman snarled from the darkness deeper in the chamber. “Otto, get my father out of here. Up the stairs. My office. The gray case.”

“What about…?”

“I’ll make sure you’re not followed. Go!”

Christ.

I could tell Grace was in trouble. Maybe dead. But the Jakobys were about to escape. There was no way for me to know whether a distraction at this moment would help or hurt. If Grace was still alive and hiding, then I could get her killed. On the other hand, I needed to know what the Jakobys were doing.

Grace’s own voice echoed in my mind.

The mission comes first.

I knew what the mission required. I put the flashlight and the muzzle of the Berretta into the hole, which gave me only a few inches of extra space to see. I prayed I was making the right move.

I switched the flashlight on and pointed the beam in the direction of the male voices. The woman had told Otto to get her father out of there. Cyrus was the one with the trigger device.

The flashlight beam swept over tropical foliage of all kinds and for a moment I saw nothing else; then I caught a momentary image of something at the edge of the beam of light. I immediately angled the beam back and saw a vulture-faced old man squinting at me through the glare. He held a piece of flat metal in his hands that he had obviously just lifted out of a rectangular hole in the wall. I fired at him and the first bullet hit the metal plate at an angle and whanged off into the darkness. I fired again as the man dropped the plate and tackled a second man who stood closer to the opening. Was that Otto and Cyrus Jakoby? It had to be. I fired and fired, sure that I hit at least one of them, but the tackle had sent them spilling into the opening. I fired the entire magazine and then tore the M4 from Bunny’s hand, jammed it into the opening, and let it rip. I wanted to fill their bolt-hole with ricochets that would chop those maniacs to pieces.

I thrust the gun at Bunny to reload and I swept back and forth with the flashlight.

“Hopscotch!” I bellowed.

But if Grace heard my call, she was not able to shout back the countersign.

My heart sank in my chest.

I spun and grabbed Redman by the shoulder. “The DMS and SEALs are all over this island. Find them. Get all the C4 you can and blow me a fucking hole. Bunny-I’m going back to the stairs and see if I can find Hecate’s office. Cyrus and Otto are on their way upstairs. Hecate said something about a gray case-”

“Shit… you think she has a ruggedized laptop?”

“Yeah, dammit, that’s exactly what I think. I’ve got to find that office.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No… Redman’s going to need muscle to fight through to our teams outside. We need that hole. As soon as he’s secured, then come find me.”

He wanted to protest, but I was already in motion.

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four

The Chamber of Myth

Tuesday, August 31, 2:57 A.M.

Time Remaining on the Extinction Clock: 33 hours, 3 minutes E.S.T.

It was the blood that woke Grace Courtland. It seeped from the gash in her scalp and curled in lines over her cheek and into her nose. She choked and the sudden spasm of a cough brought her out of her daze. She rolled over onto her stomach and coughed the blood out of her nose and mouth. Her head felt like it was ten times normal sized and stuffed with broken glass. Nausea was a polluted wind that blew through her stomach.

There was movement, noise, and light off to her right and she turned her muzzy head to try to make sense of it. Colored lights popped on and flew through the air and in her confusion Grace didn’t understand what she was seeing, and then clarity returned to her. There was a hole in the wall to the Chamber of Myth and someone was tossing chemical light sticks inside. The Jakobys wouldn’t do something like that. It had to be…