Michael sat between Layla and Erin in the row directly below the new divers. Jaideep put his boot up on the seat next to Erin, and she swiped it away.
“Show some respect,” she said.
“Jeez, lady,” Jaideep quipped.
Erin twisted in her chair. “That’s ‘Commander, ma’am,’” she snapped.
“Sorry,” Jaideep said, sulking.
Michael just shook his head. Petty bickering was the last thing they needed right now. There were a dozen things to deal with, and he still wasn’t sure whether X and Magnolia were safe. The more he thought about it, the less this trip to Cuba felt like a good idea, unless Katrina knew something he didn’t about what was down there.
Michael finally looked behind him at the new divers. They filled only a small fraction of the seats in the big room. Sandy, Jed, Trey, Vish, Jaideep, Edgar, Ramon, Eevi, and Alexander all sat in the same row, with several empty seats scattered among them.
Aside from a few runs in the wind tunnels back on the Hive, and a few lectures in the conference room on how to dive, none of these people had any proper training. And aside from Edgar and Ramon, none of them knew how to handle a weapon, either.
Aside from the two militia soldiers, everyone else looked nervous as hell and Michael could sense the tension. Sandy twisted a lock of hair. Jed whispered something to her. The two comedians of the group, Jaideep and Vish, sat like mummies, masks of terror on their features. Eevi and Alexander held hands.
“All right, listen up,” Les said from the bottom level.
A hologram shot out of the center console, expanding into a horizontal layered map. It showed an area of land topped by a domed building that reminded Michael of the Hilltop Bastion.
But this facility wasn’t set in the middle of the city; it was off the coast of Cuba and surrounded by ocean.
“This is Red Sphere,” Katrina said. “Two hundred and sixty years ago, it was a top secret facility owned by ITC but run jointly with the United States Navy. Dr. Julio Diaz, a worker in the laboratory deep beneath the surface of the water, survived there for a number of years, and intel we received from his team gives us reason to believe it’s worth checking out.”
Checking out for what? Michael wondered.
Les touched the hologram and pulled out one of the layers. “This is the DZ for Commander Everhart, Erin, Layla, and me. We will enter the facility here and make our way to the underground warehouse and vehicle bay,” he said, using his fingers to indicate the entry points.
“Ensign Connor has been monitoring the weather,” Katrina said, “and for now it looks like landing Deliverance on the platform will present too great a risk. I was hoping we might be able to, but for now we’re going to have to dive to get there.”
“So why are we here, Captain?” Vish asked.
Katrina gave him a gaze worthy of her title. “You’re here to learn and support as needed.”
Edgar raised a hand. “Captain, I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“How long ago was the last broadcast from this Dr. Diaz?”
“Good question,” Layla murmured.
“We have multiple transmissions from Dr. Diaz and his staff, starting just days after the war. The rest are spread out over several years.”
“What happened during that time?” Michael asked.
Katrina met his eyes. “We’re not exactly sure, but at some point, he and his colleagues were killed by another faction seeking shelter at Red Sphere. I’ll play you the final transmission.”
Les tapped the computer screen, and the map vanished, replaced by the face of Dr. Julio Diaz. His features were blue lines like computer code.
“We’ve barricaded the laboratory, but I’m not sure how long we can hold back the defectors. They’re here for my work… my life’s work. And I’ll die before they get hold of it.”
“His life’s work?” Layla whispered.
Michael nodded. “Sounds like that’s what he said.”
The doctor put his hands on his head. “I’m afraid this is the end. They outnumber us and have military-grade weapons. Our flesh guns won’t do much to their armor. I hope these transmissions reach someone, someday…”
A banging sounded in the background of the audio, and the doctor turned to look at something over his shoulder. When he turned back toward the camera, his eyes had widened. “They’re almost inside. God have mercy on our souls for what we’ve created…”
The video fizzled out, and the lights flickered back on, spreading a glow over the amphitheater.
“That was creepy as hell,” Jaideep said.
Edgar whispered something to his cousin, but Ramon shrugged.
“We believe the defectors were the other scientists and military officials fighting for resources,” Katrina replied. “But we haven’t had a chance to go through all the transmissions yet.”
“We know that Sirens didn’t exist on the date of the transmissions,” Les said. “If this was broadcast a few years after the war, then Sirens wouldn’t have evolved yet—not even close.”
“He’s right,” Layla said. “Whoever killed Dr. Julio Diaz and his team were more than likely human.”
Sandy stopped twisting a lock of her hair between her fingers and glanced over at Jed who again reassured her with a whisper. They had grown close and, in a way, reminded Michael of him and Layla.
“I agree,” Katrina said, “which is why I’m authorizing this mission. I have no reason to believe we will find anything but a tomb there.”
Layla folded her arms across her chest. “And if we do?”
“Then you abandon the mission and get back into the sky,” Katrina promptly replied. “I’m not risking your lives for supplies.”
“What are we supposed to do when they’re down there?” Trey asked.
Les looked up at his son. “You watch and you learn like the captain already said.”
“Any other questions?” Katrina asked.
Michael considered one, but it could wait till they were alone.
“Okay, dismissed,” Katrina said. “Commander Everhart and the rest of the vets, please join me for a final briefing.”
Michael made his way down the ramp to the bottom as the hatch closed three floors above.
“There’s something I didn’t show the others,” Katrina said. She tapped the monitor again and pulled up an audio clip from Dr. Diaz.
“They’re inside,” said the doctor. “They…”
A clanking came over the audio, and a mechanical noise that Michael couldn’t place. Gunfire erupted, followed by multiple cries of pain. But none of them sounded quite human.
“Those definitely aren’t Sirens,” Layla said. “But they don’t sound like—”
“Please… please, don’t kill us!” shouted a female voice.
The reply was muffled by some sort of breathing apparatus, and the crack of gunfire ended the clip.
“That’s the last thing we got from the intel Magnolia sent us,” Katrina said.
Michael scratched at his five o’clock shadow.
“This happened over two hundred and sixty years ago, right?” Erin asked.
Katrina nodded.
“Then we should assume whoever murdered Dr. Diaz and his crew are also dead.”
“Assuming gets people killed,” Layla replied.
The speakers on the computer console crackled with a message from Command.
“Captain, this is Ensign Connor.”
Katrina tapped the reply button. “Go ahead, Dave.”
“Barometer is dropping fast, and a thirty-mile front is moving toward us. I’m recommending a new course to get around this monster.”
“How much time will it cost us?” Katrina asked.
“Another twelve hours, Captain. Maybe more.”