Chapter 36 - The Flooding Bay
Claire sprinted along the upper catwalk toward the dry dock control tower, Thomas covering her blind side with surgical precision.
A mercenary patrolling the gantry turned at the sound of boots on wet steel, raising his submachine gun.
Before he could pull the trigger, a suppressed round from Miller’s perch ripped through his chest, sending him tumbling over the railing into the black water fifty feet below.
"Movement on the catwalk!" a guard below screamed, and instantly the dry dock erupted into chaotic crossfire.
Muzzle flashes strobed through the pouring rain as bullets ricocheted off the iron girders around Claire’s head.
She returned fire in disciplined, three-round bursts, dropping two contractors who were rushing the base of the control tower stairs.
"I’ve got the stairs!" Thomas yelled, dropping to one knee and laying down suppressing fire with terrifying accuracy.
Claire kicked the door of the control cabin open, splintering the lock with the sole of her boot.
Inside, a lone technician scrambled for a pistol on the console desk.
Claire crossed the room in two strides, slamming the technician's head down onto the steel desk, knocking him cold before his fingers could touch the grip.
She surveyed the massive bank of analog dials, hydraulic levers, and glowing digital displays that controlled the harbor locks.
"Thomas! Which valve opens the outer sea gate?" she shouted through the door.
"The red secondary release on the left panel!" Thomas called back between bursts of gunfire. "It bypasses the automated safety locks!"
Claire grabbed the heavy iron wheel labeled *EMERGENCY SEA GATE RELEASE* and threw her full body weight into turning it counter-clockwise.
Rusted gears groaned deep within the concrete belly of the facility, followed by the terrifying shriek of protesting iron.
Outside, the two massive steel gates separating the dry dock from the freezing Hudson River began to pull apart.
A wall of black harbor water slammed through the opening, a roaring tidal surge that smashed against the hull of the black submarine.
"What is happening?!" Margaret’s shrill, panicked voice drifted up through the cacophony. "David, what did she do?!"
"Get below! Now!" David roared, shoving Margaret toward the submarine’s open hatch.
The incoming water was rising with horrific speed, lifting the massive vessel from its concrete blocks with violent, shuddering creaks.
Catwalks were ripped away by the rushing currents, dumping equipment crates and shouting mercenaries into the churning foam.
David grabbed Admiral Hayes by the collar of his uniform, dragging him violently toward the hatch opening.
"You're coming with me, old man," David snarled, pressing a pistol to the base of the Admiral's skull. "Even if I have to drag your corpse to Beijing!"
"Not today, Vance," Hayes spat, driving his elbow backward into David’s broken arm with every ounce of strength he had left.
David howled in agony, his grip slipping as Hayes broke away, tumbling onto the narrow deck of the rocking submarine.
From the gantry crane, Miller fired another round, striking the conning tower inches from David’s face, showering him with lead fragments.
Claire stepped out onto the cabin balcony, aiming her rifle directly at her adoptive brother on the deck below.
"Step away from the Admiral, David!" Claire’s voice cut through the roaring water like a battle horn.
David looked up into the rain, his eyes wild and bloodshot, blood streaming down the side of his scarred neck.
He looked at Claire, then at Thomas standing beside her, his weapon raised.
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"Thomas?" David whispered in sick disbelief, his face draining of all color. "You brought back the dead?"
"You made him a weapon, David," Claire shouted, her crosshairs locked onto his chest. "Now pay the toll."
