David Sakmyster - The Cydonia Objective

But he didn’t have time to waste. He needed a boat. And with the tragedy and the destruction consuming the city’s attention, Caleb felt he stood a good chance of being able to commandeer this boat from its owners and put it to better use.

As he surfaced at the back of the boat, which turned out to be a 26-foot Inboard Cruiser, bright red, he started fighting a queasy feeling. Maybe it was just the color, but Caleb had a sudden sense of danger, as if he had just stepped onto a street without bothering to look for traffic. His head spun as he took out the regulator and breathed normally, reaching for the ladder. Should have RV’d this-

He debated dropping back down under the waves and searching for another vessel, but then he heard something clicking from above. Something that sounded familiar to him after being around so many soldiers and military types in the past week.

It was the sound of someone chambering a round.

Even the way it was done sounded familiar, just as familiar as the sound this particular gun made. A Beretta.

Her weapon of choice.

“Damn,” Caleb said, looking up into the brilliant blue sky a moment before a silhouette obscured his view.

She looked like just another sexy sunbather, wearing a thin bikini that matched the color of the boat. She even smelled like tanning oil; and her hair was pulled back in a tail that whipped from side to side in the wind.

Nina Osseni held the gun steadily aimed at Caleb’s head. “Hi honey. I was wondering when you’d bother to show up.”

He reached ahand up for her to take, but she just backed up, keeping the gun on him. “Sorry, but given our history, I’m not about to touch you right now. Just come on up here and have a seat.”

Caleb hung on the ladder, his mask up on his forehead. He was calculating his chances of diving and getting under the boat, then descending out of her reach. “If I say no?”

She sweetly smiled and shook her head. “You’re not that quick, lover.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Move. We have things to talk about. Our boys saw that you’d try to make for the fort.”

After a wistful look down into the suddenly clearing water, and a yearning glance to the fortress, he climbed. Slid off his air tank, peeled off his mask and kicked free of his fins; then he stood there, dripping onto the boat as she sized him up.

She whistled, almost giggling. “I’m guessing you had to borrow a suit for the swim.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re making jokes?” He pointed over his shoulder to the mainland, where helicopters roamed over the ruins of the Bibliotheca Alexandrina . “Right after that just happened?” His hand clenched into fists. “Nina, what have you done?”

Her grin evaporated. Her eyes darted to the disaster site, then back to her prisoner. “I… I’m still sorting it out. Still figuring…”

“Your place in Calderon’s world?”

“My place,” she said through clenched teeth, “is with my boys.”

“Our boys.” Caleb leaned toward her. “Nina, listen. If I had only–”

“Looked? If you had bothered, or if Lydia hadn’t completely distracted you?”

“I know. I would have seen you, but I had no idea. I wasn’t even thinking of questioning it. You were dead, I thought. Why would I want to relive that? Why would I look for you, only to see you die again?” His eyes pleaded, and this time, at last he really meant it. “I would have, Nina. I would have gone to the ends of the earth to save you.”

She snickered. “Touching. But we both know that once you found out I was working for Waxman, you were glad I was gone.”

“I’m not going to argue anymore. If you’re not going to let me go, then shoot me if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Oh it would, Caleb. It really would. But I think Jacob and Isaac really want to meet their daddy, and I can’t deny them such a simple pleasure.” She took a seat opposite him on the deck, crossing her silky tan legs slowly while she leaned forward, casually holding the .45. “But first, there’s the matter of Giza’s subterranean labyrinth. Senator Calderon tasked me to find out exactly what you learned down there.”

Caleb cocked his head. “Why? Couldn’t he get the boys to RV it?”

Nina didn’t move. “Their minds are… a little OCD, I’d say. Getting them to focus is like teaching a golden retriever to play chess in a park full of kids throwing balls.” She absently tapped the gun’s barrel against her front teeth. “Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re up to? What is it you and Xavier thought you could do to stop Calderon? Stop a man who could do…” she motioned to the devastation on the shore “…that?”

Caleb smoothed back his thick wet hair, and his eyes locked on hers. She didn’t need the gun to make him feel like he was at her mercy. Just like when they had first met, he felt out of her league, humbled by her beauty. Only now, he could see something else behind her eyes: the calculating, catlike fury and selfishness that Nina possessed in abundance. But he held onto a hope that just as Caleb had changed after he had discovered he had a son, maybe some grand lycanthropic transformation would work her over, reforming her. But it didn’t seem likely.

“Go to hell,” he whispered. “You want to find out, you know what you have to do.”

“Oh,” Nina said, tracing her lips with the gun’s barrel, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Caleb stood up. “Again, I’m not here to talk, and I’m not here to help you. Do what you need to do, but I won’t be a willing subject.”

Nina stood beside him, taking the bait without realizing she’d just been hooked. Smiling, she reached for him and said, “Just the way I like it.”

He felt aburning rush as she grabbed his wrist, and then she was turning him towards her, and the sun was behind her, blazing through her hair, and her face disappeared into the blackest shadow as she leaned in.

And then her lips were on his, her tongue opening his mouth, her lungs sucking in his breath. He squirmed in her grasp, even as he felt the electric chill of her curves against his wet chest, her legs encircling his calves, pinning him in place as she took his thoughts. His memories, his essence.

But this time, he was prepared. His mind was focused.

She may have thought she was taking from him, but this time, he was the one giving.

She saw itall, just as he had mentally prepped it, as if he had loaded the projector in his mind, and had it playing in an infinite loop so that anyone that poked their head in for a look, would see…

A massive ripple of energy, nearly invisible but sparking as if roiling with electromagnetic charges at war within the ether, a wave tearing through New York City, blasting the skyline apart, cutting a swath through the island, tearing across the harbor and splitting the waters, causing mirror-image tsunamis, parting before the Statue of Liberty which seemed to wince before being struck. It shatters, arm, torso and crown tossed in separate directions, caught up in the flux and separately pulverized.

Then—ascent, and a satellite’s view. The ripple tears across the globe, leaving a path of destruction from an origin point somewhere in eastern Alaska. But then… the clouds are massing, swirling over the northern hemisphere, lighting up from within, periodically bursting with intense flashes. Massive auroras are appearing in the upper atmosphere, as if an unseen hand works with vibrant watercolors, splashing them in broad brushstrokes over the world’s skies. Breathtaking. Beautiful.