“Hurry up, Mags,” X said. “And, Pepper, you make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“Sir, thank you for entrusting me with that decision.”
X had been prepared to shut the AI down, but the threat he posed was merely a potentiality. The Cazadores, on the other hand, were a clear-cut danger, and the small crew of the Sea Wolf needed all the help it could get.
Magnolia’s voice came over the channel. “Okay, X, I’m at the controls. Tell me what to do.”
“You see those boats on the monitor?” X asked. “Mags?”
“Holy wastes!” she replied. “I see the boats… and the Metal Islands.”
He swore quietly when he realized she had ignored his order to keep the hatch closed.
Looking out over the open water, X watched the two boats. They were only half a mile away now, and several men on the deck were raising weapons.
“Close the hatch!” he shouted at Magnolia. “And keep going straight!”
“Working on it!”
He shouldered his rifle, waiting for the opportunity. The yacht was making a run at them now.
X lined up his shot, then launched a grenade just ahead of the yacht. He pulled the trigger and watched the grenade zip through the air. A geyser shot up just shy of the bow. Water rained down, drenching the two men behind the helm.
Muzzle flashes came from the fishing boat, and rounds cut the sail below X. He moved the rifle muzzle to the fishing boat and fired directly in front of it.
This time, the grenade exploded against the bow. The fiery blast sent one of the Cazador soldiers flying into the ocean, his clothes burning. The vessel stalled in the water; smoke billowing away from the twisted metal.
X pivoted to fire on the yacht just as a flare lofted away from the boat. He watched as it arced through the air in what seemed like slow motion. His eyes followed it downward, beneath his boots.
The tip caught on the face of the wolf, the flames quickly consuming the emblem and spreading outward.
“Son of a bitch,” X growled. He opened fire on the yacht, holding the trigger down. The pilot turned hard to starboard, sending up a spray of water.
X peppered the hull with bullets.
The Sea Wolf skimmed past the yacht, Magnolia holding the same bearing, the mizzen sail catching enough wind to keep them moving.
After weeks of cursing the rain, X would give about anything for some now.
“Turn, Mags!” he shouted.
“Turn where?”
“Port side, port side!”
The rudders moved, and X pivoted for a shot as the yacht tried to flank them. Thick smoke from the burning sail made him cough and obscured his vision.
He gave up trying to find a shot and climbed out of the crow’s nest. Rounds from the yacht punched through the metal, and one perforated the mast, just above his head. The snapping sound that followed sent a chill through him, but he had scant time to react.
It wasn’t a bullet that broke the line holding the mast in place—it was the fire. The mast snapped forward, catapulting X into the air.
He had a momentary view of the Metal Islands in the distance, but it quickly vanished as sparkling-clear water rose up to meet him. Bubbles exploded around him, and he lost his rifle on impact. He kicked for the surface—the rifle was as good as gone now.
“Mags,” X said between gasps.
He piked and then surface-dived, kicking for his life, just before the hull of the yacht passed overhead. The propellers churned the water where he had been two seconds before.
Filtered air filled his lungs. But the helmet was a double-edged sword—the armor was heavy, and it made swimming difficult.
He kicked away, staying well below the surface and searching for the shadow of the Sea Wolf. Although the water around him was clear, the depths were as dark as a stormy sky.
And he already knew what lurked below. These warm waters were home to more predators than just the Cazadores.
Magnolia’s voice broke over the channel. “X, X… Where are you?”
“Overboard. Just hang on.” But for what?
Though X could hear the yacht’s engines, he had no good idea where it was or how far he was from the Sea Wolf. He would have to break the surface to find out.
Kicking and breaststroking, he fought his way to the top. When he was just below the surface, he used his arms to slow his ascent, so that little more than the top of his helmet broke through the water.
The clouds had parted directly overhead, revealing the unobstructed sun. He squinted at the bright rays. Treading water, he turned in a slow circle.
Both boats were floating side by side some two hundred meters away. Several Cazadores were already boarding the Sea Wolf with rifles and spearguns. One man remained on the port side of the yacht, looking over the barbed wire and searching the water.
“Mags, you’re about to have company,” X said. “Don’t let them inside. Wait for me; I’m almost there.”
X slowly sank back under the waves and began swimming under the surface. He took in slow, measured breaths, careful not to use up the small oxygen reserve in his helmet.
He reached for the blaster on his hip, then changed his mind and pulled the serrated knife from the sheath on his duty belt.
Come on, come on…
A garbled message came over the channel.
“Should I send a Mayday with our location?” Magnolia asked, her voice shaky.
X was surprised to hear her ask. The guilt from her decision to send the Red Sphere coordinates had likely stuck with her, but this time it was different. Finding the Metal Islands was worth the risk.
“Do it,” X said. “Send an SOS to the Hive and Deliverance.”
He submerged deeper as he approached the Sea Wolf, going all the way under the hull. On the starboard side, he came up and grabbed the edge where the octopus had torn the barbed wire away. There was no one in sight on the deck.
He waited several seconds, then grabbed the starboard gunwale. The two Cazadores had already broken through the first hatch. Gunfire cracked, and Miles barked from inside the cabin.
“Hell no, you don’t,” X said. He reached up to the rail and was pulling himself aboard when a net suddenly fell over him. A soldier wearing goggles emerged overhead and kicked him in the helmet so hard, the glass cracked.
X flew backward, still draped in the net, and hit the water with a splash. Bullets hit the water, zipping past him in white streaks.
“Mags! Miles!” X yelled. He kicked and pulled, but the net had him enshrouded like a captured fish, and water was already coming in through his cracked visor.
During the lull in the gunfire, he could hear Magnolia’s shouts over the comm channel.
Dark smoke drifted from the last shreds of the burning mainsail. More gunfire shot through the water. X waited for the soldier to empty his magazine, then kicked his way to the surface, trying to get free of the net.
It was the big-shouldered man with the octopus tattooed on his chest glaring over the side. He pulled up his goggles for a better view of X, revealing a beakish nose.
It wasn’t el Pulpo after all.
The man gave X a sharp-toothed grin, then let out a laugh.
X fell back beneath the water. He tried to cut through the net with his blade, but his arm was constricted, making it almost impossible.
He sank deeper this time, as water rushed through the crack and filled his mouth. Spitting, he tried to keep from swallowing.
Magnolia’s voice crackled through his speakers. “X! X, where are you?”
He thrashed harder, but he couldn’t get free.
The hull of the Sea Wolf blurred as he sank deeper and deeper.