Brad Thor - The Athena Project

Casey tightened her grip on the transmitter and made ready. The timing of what she was about to do had to be absolutely perfect. The Donzi was right behind them now; practically on top of them. As they drew even with the dock, she depressed the transmit switch and prayed to God she’d properly judged the distance. “Everyone down!”

As they passed the pier and drew even with the doors of Bianchi’s boat garage, Casey felt a sudden surge of panic that she had pressed the button too soon. She braced for the inevitable, but it didn’t come-at least not until they had sped past the palazzo entirely.

She turned her eyes from the houses alongside the canal to the Donzi barreling down on them from behind. It passed above the submerged scooters at exactly the right moment. Attached to the bow of each propulsion device was a classified, British-made BAE Systems “stonefish” mine meant to destroy any evidence that could point back to the team if the scooters had to be abandoned.

When the explosives detonated, the Donzi was right above them, and was tossed by the concussive pressure wave. They watched as the speedboat lost control and slammed bow-first into the next pier.

Cooper let out a cheer and flashed Casey a thumbs-up as Ericsson pointed the Zodiac toward the Rialto. Hailing Rhodes over the radio, she said, “Sixty seconds.”

“Roger that,” replied Megan.

Fifty-eight seconds later, they were at Venice’s historic Rialto Bridge. Ericsson slowed just enough for Rhodes to jump in. Already they could see blue flashing lights in both directions and hear the sirens of Venice police boats. They had Nino Bianchi, but their job was only half done. They still had to get him to the rendezvous point and hand him off. And to do that, they were going to have to completely expose themselves.

As they sped out into the open water, Gretchen Casey powered up the special encrypted radio she’d been issued for this part of their assignment.

Once it had reached full strength, she depressed the talk button and said, “Norseman, this is Hollow Point. Do you copy?”

She released the transmit button and waited for a response.

“Hollow Point, this is Norseman,” said a man’s voice. “You’re coming in loud and clear. Do you have the package?”

“Roger that. Hollow Point has the package.”

“What’s your status?” the man asked.

“Hollow Point is fifteen minutes out, but we’ll be coming in fast. Lots of local interest,” said Casey, referring to all the police activity they were seeing and hearing.

“Understood. Norseman will leave the back door open for you.”

“Roger that. Hollow Point out.”

Turning off the radio, Casey tapped Ericsson on the shoulder to get her attention and then motioned for her to open the Zodiac’s engine all they way up again. The sooner they delivered Bianchi, the better.

Ericsson expertly piloted the Zodiac through the waves. Despite several hard slams, Bianchi remained unconscious.

At fifteen minutes on the dot, Ericsson pointed to a sleek three-deck, forty-four-meter metallic luxury motor yacht that looked as if it were straight out of a Batman movie. Her name was the Isabella.

As the Athena Team came around from behind they found the Isabella ’s transom garage had been left open, just as promised. Ericsson headed straight for it.

“Everyone hold on!” she shouted as they got closer.

Lining up the bow, Ericsson drove the Zodiac up and into the space that contained the yacht’s tender and various other pieces of water-related equipment. The minute they were inside, the transom door began to close and Casey hopped out of the boat.

“Stay here and keep an eye on Bianchi,” she said. “I don’t want to move him until we know where he’s supposed to go.”

The other women nodded as Casey opened the door out to the deck. Coming down from the upper level was the man with the call sign “Norseman.” He was several inches taller than Casey, with sandy brown hair and penetrating blue eyes. A former Navy SEAL who now worked for a private intelligence agency funded by the Defense Department, his real name was Scot Harvath.

Gretchen and her team had worked with him recently, taking down a terrorist network involved with attacks in Europe and the United States.

“Where is he?” asked Harvath.

“We haven’t seen each other in months and that’s your first question? No, ‘Hi, Gretch. How’s it been?’”

“I’m sorry. Hi, Gretch. How’s it been?”

“Not too bad. You know the way-”

“Is he still in the boat?” interrupted Harvath.

“Yes, he’s still in the boat, but-”

Harvath didn’t bother to wait around for her to finish her sentence. Opening the door, he stepped into the transom garage. As he did, someone else came down from the upper deck-Riley Turner. She was in her early thirties, tall and fit, with reddish-brown hair, blue eyes, and a wide mouth with full lips.

A doctor and semicompetitive winter X-Games athlete, she had been one of the earliest recruits to the Athena Project. Casey had been looking forward to seeing Harvath again, but she hadn’t expected to see Riley. Though it was unprofessional, she felt jealous seeing them together. She gave Riley a hug anyway. “It’s good to see you,” she lied.

“You, too,” replied Turner.

“You’re going to want to take a look at Bianchi.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“We chucked him out a third-story window into the canal.”

Riley didn’t like the sound of that. “You what?”

“We had no choice. He’s been unconscious since he hit the water. And by the way, he’s under the influence of Flunitrazepam.”

Turner pushed past Casey into the transom garage to examine Bianchi.

Gretchen shrugged and headed upstairs. She wanted to get out of her wet cocktail dress and into some dry clothes.

She checked all of the staterooms until she found the one Riley had taken. After satisfying herself that she and Harvath weren’t sharing it, Gretchen helped herself to some of Riley’s clothes and got dressed.

Grabbing some clothes for Cooper to wear, she stepped back into the passageway. When she did, she nearly ran into Megan and Jules, who were helping Scot and Riley carry Bianchi on a backboard. She stood back as they took him into a room at the end of the passageway.

Cooper came walking up behind them. “Here you go,” said Casey as she tossed her the clothes she had picked out.

“Where’d you get these?”

Casey jerked her thumb over her shoulder and then asked, “What’s wrong with Bianchi?”

“We don’t know. Riley’s just being careful.”

“If he’s paralyzed, I’m not going to lose any sleep over it. It’ll serve him right. Do you have any idea how many people that animal has helped kill?”

Cooper nodded in agreement as Harvath came back down the passageway.

“Nice outfit,” he said to Casey.

“What? This old thing?”

Harvath smiled and stepped past her. “I’m going to get us underway. There’s food in the galley if you want it. When you’re ready, you can come up to the bridge. I know Hutton’s going to want to debrief you.”

“I’m sure the feeling’s mutual,” interjected Cooper.

Harvath looked at her questioningly.

“ De-brief . Get it?” she said as she pantomimed pulling someone’s pants down.

“No,” Harvath replied, deadpan. “And I don’t think I want to.”

Casey shot her teammate a withering look, and Cooper refrained from any further remarks. Instead, she said, “I think I’ll change and get something to eat.”