Ethan’s first task was to remove the floor panel, necessitating some jimmying with a crowbar with Nik and a deep slash through the meat of Ethan’s thumb. Ethan swore and stuck the bleeding digit under his armpit while Becca offered him some tape to bind his finger. She shot him a shy grin. “I remember when you stabbed your hand with a screwdriver trying to fix a broken door lock.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “I’m better with my hands at other things.”

Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink and she retreated with a heated glimpse over her shoulder.

Nik shook his head and eyed Ethan. “Something you want to tell me?”

Ethan wound the tape around his slashed finger, ignoring the blood spotting his thigh. “Yeah. Keep your mind on the job and out of the gutter.”

Nik smirked. “Yes, sir.” He tapped the still-sealed conduit hatch, his face stern once more. “They were serious safety geeks when they built this place.”

Cade approached and took a knee next to Ethan. “Weather satellite imagery reports storm activity approaching. If we want to surface on a relatively calm sea, we need to be out as soon as possible.”

Ethan grunted as he rammed the drill bit into yet another warped screw on the entrance panel. “Working on it.”

When half an hour later, they accessed the maintenance conduit, Ethan sighed with relief, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. His thumb throbbed in time with his pulse as with Nik’s help, he lifted the hinged access panel.

Freezing air gusted out of the shaft, chilling Ethan’s face. It was dark and narrow but at least wider than the air ventilation shaft he’d been stuck in not long ago. A shiver raced down his spine.

Nik rubbed his arms. “We’re going to be glad for insulated wetsuits.” He glanced over his shoulder to where Luca was cursing over a neoprene wetsuit zip and rolled his eyes. “once we can get them on that is.”

Ethan suppressed a smirk and shook his head. If they could find humor in their situation he reckoned their chances were good. He climbed out the open shaft and into the room. Everyone had changed into neoprene wetsuits and Luca had finally zipped up and shut up and was checking a row of rebreathers with Finn. The small gas cylinders with attached mouthpieces had limited capacity, but their slimline shape made them the ideal choice in the meager space in the tunnel. Ethan picked one up. They looked spanking new and unused. “These good to go?”

Finn nodded. “Seem to be in working order. We shouldn’t need to go anywhere near to capacity with them. The swim to the Lady is short and even taking turns to enter the airlock we have plenty of time.”

“Good.” Ethan inclined his head in approval, his voice steady. He was going to get his team and Becca out of here if it was the last thing he did. He’d doubted himself so many times over the last ten years, burned out after the accident and running on anger, fueled by guilt and regret. But when he’d held Becca in his arms in her room, the emotional stranglehold of the last ten years had loosened and he wasn’t sad to see it go.

He turned and placed his hands on Becca’s shoulders. A tangible tremble of anticipation coursed through her muscles. He squeezed, feeling the smallness of her bones in his grip. She was a living conundrum, so strong but also so fragile and precious to him. He leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck, not caring if any of his men saw.

Em cleared her throat loudly, hands on her hips. She pointed at her chest. “Okay. I’m going first.”

“I don’t think so.”

Em shot Ethan’s comment down with a severe look. “I’m the engineering officer down here and I know these conduits like the back of my hand, so I’m going first, no argument. Besides, the hatch has a coded access panel at the other end and I know all the secret code shit.”

Nik widened his eyes at Ethan in appreciation. Damn. Clearly, Em was spicy when she got going, and she was on a roll. She pointed her screwdriver at Ethan. “Ethan, as acting commanding officer, you’re last. Seal the conduit behind us once we’re all in, otherwise, the backflow when we open the hatch at the other end will blow us to the far side of the habitat and then we’re fish food. You good?”

Ethan’s voice was strong. Confidence flowed through his veins. “Good.”

Finn pushed off the wall and shrugged a rebreather across his broad shoulders. He bumped knuckles with Ethan as he walked over to the waiting hole in the floor. “Wolves are set to get wet.”

One by one, they lowered themselves into the maintenance conduit. Em went first then Nik, followed by Cade, Luca, Finn, Becca, and finally Ethan. Ethan took one final look at the Ceto habitat before he joined the others. Aimee’s monitor pulsed silently on the far side of the room.

Glad to see the back of you.

He swung into the hatch, his rubber-soled boots squeaking on the metal floor. Inside he activated his rebreather and made sure his mask was secure before tapping Becca on the arm.

She gave him a thumbs-up as he hauled the heavy hatch lid back into place. It settled into the grooves with a muted thud, sealing out the light and the air supply of the habitat. They were on their own now. Ethan crouched so he could turn the hatch lock. The interior metal handle spun easily under his grip before finally locking shut.

Darkness surrounded him in a thick cloak.

He closed his eyes for a second, gathering himself and bringing the primitive part of his brain under control with practiced self-discipline. His pulse slowed from a gallop as he flexed his hands in his gloves, pins and needles slowly dissipating. Briefly, the twisted metal of the car wreck flared into his mind, triggered by the memories of confinement, but Becca took his hand. She gave him the universal okay sign, touching her thumb and forefinger together. Ethan exhaled noisily and the car was gone. He was here with Becca, and he had a job to do.

He returned her thumbs-up and her eyes crinkled with a smile above the black trim of her eye mask. She wriggled around on her knees then turned and crawled away. A glow stick swung from her neck as she wormed along the conduit, the orange light swinging and shifting into shadow and back again.

Ethan followed, ignoring the ache on his thighs from his stitched wound, his focus nailed on the swinging lights in front.

After interminable minutes, Em’s labored breathing rattled through his comms unit. The enclosed space was getting to all of them. “Ethan?” Her voice was tinny.

“Hatch is sealed, Em,” Ethan replied.

“Excellent.” Em’s voice was faint. “Approaching the exit shaft now. Ladder is visible. I’m going to—”

A soft ‘whump’ obliterated her words and a tremor strummed through Ethan’s hands and knees.

“What the hell is that?” Cade shouted, fear rimming the edges of his words.

Dread spiraled through Ethan’s gut.

Depth charges.

“Depth charges!” Nik roared. “Fucking move it, Em, they’re dropping depth charges.”

“Em, move it!” Ethan echoed, reaching forward to put his hands around Becca’s waist. Her abdomen rose and fell in rapid pants as another deadly whump tore through the shaft. He urged her onward, his hands digging into her hipbones, even as her body resisted, fear interfering with her co-ordination.

“Go! Go! Go!” Ethan bellowed.

He powered forward, his shoulders bumping up against her backside as he shoved her along with sheer brute strength. His gaze zeroed in on the bobbing lights ahead as the rest of the team lurched toward the exit hatch.

Em’s voice rattled over the connection. “Opening the upper hatch now. Everyone brace.”

Ethan stopped and spread his legs in a wide stance, locking himself into position. He wrapped his arms around Becca’s waist, securing her to his body. She burrowed against him, seeking safety in his embrace as he curled around her in a protective living shield.

A rush of air and rumble of thunder preempted the immense surge of water that slammed into him. It wrenched at his knees, rising to his waist, then his chest in a matter of seconds, tearing at his arms and back. Icy salt water clawed any exposed flesh, sucking the heat from his body in an instant. His breathing skyrocketed, fueled by adrenaline, but he clung to Becca, squeezing her tight into his abdomen, his thighs straining to maintain his grip against the hammering pressure of the water. Another second and the inky deluge swept over his mask, trapping him underwater.

Then another depth charge hit, closer this time. It jolted his feet free, ripping his legs out from underneath him, tossing him like flotsam. Ethan hardened his grip on Becca, and she tumbled with him as he curled his body around her, protecting her from the icy assault and the harsh metal walls that cracked against his elbows and knees. Screams cut through his comms unit, but he couldn’t tell if they were male or female. He couldn’t even tell up from down anymore. He rolled, desperately searching for anything to gain his bearings.

There. Numbers flashed past on the conduit wall, picked out by a spinning glow stick. He was sideways on. He jacked his legs out and succeeded in wedging himself upright again. His arms and thighs throbbed with the effort, his muscles threatening to fail.

“Accessing the Lady. Nik’s with me.” Em was breathless, her voice high-pitched and stressed.

Another explosion. Metal twisted and warped under Ethan’s feet, slicing into the sole of his foot. Fiery pain lanced up his leg.

“Ethan, I’ve got the ladder,” Becca said, her voice wavering. “I’m going up.” She tugged free of his grip and climbed away, up into the flooded docking bay. The light around her neck swung and then disappeared as she exited the hatch. Ethan gripped the rungs of the ladder, willing his shaking legs to move faster.

“In the airlock with Finn,” Cade reported. “Move it, Ethan.”

Another explosion hit and Ethan almost lost his grip. He looped one arm through the rungs and clung on as an entire barrage of detonations rocked the base, the water compressing and contracting around him as if it were alive. Vibrations tore through his body, threatening to dislocate his shoulder.

When the last charge finally subsided he scrambled up the last few rungs and emerged into the docking bay. Electrical equipment shorted around him in eye-stinging, bleached-white bursts that competed with the emergency lighting that lit the bay with a surreal orange glow. Air tanks ruptured free of their moorings slowly rolled as the floor canted and dipped. A metal strut exploded out of the ceiling and collapsed in slow, watery motion, a lethal swipe only feet from Becca as she half swam, half walked toward the Lady.

“Powering up the Lady,” Em reported over the comms. “Becca, get your ass in here!”

“Clearing the airlock now,” Luca reported.

“Ethan!” Becca tipped backward as the floor bucked and she fell into his arms.

“Hull breach imminent.” Aimee’s metallic tones cut through the panicked shouts on the comms system. “Preparing Gray Lady for launch.”

Finn’s panicked voice hurt Ethan’s ears. “What? No… Nik, Aimee’s taken over the controls. Fuck…Aimee, give me back control of the sub right now. That is an order.”

The Gray Lady’s entrance hatch glimmered in front of Ethan, the doorway outlined by strip lighting. He took the last few steps to the airlock, fighting the resistance of the water, hauling Becca by the scruff of her neoprene suit.

His hand hit the green access pad.

Nothing.

Fuck. What?

The access pad remained red. “Airlock secured,” Aimee chimed through the comms in her best air-hostess voice.

No!

Ethan pounded on the door in slow motion. “Aimee! Open the hatch!”

“Negative. Hull breach imminent. All lives are at risk if time is taken to complete another airlock cycle. Following protocol. Gray Lady leaving in five, four…”

“Ethan, I can’t override her. I can’t,” Finn was screaming in his headset.

In the background, Russian expletives scorched the air accompanied by the hammering of crunching metal. “Otkroy dver’, suka.” Open the door, bitch.

Aimee was unperturbed. “…two, one. Gray Lady disengaging from main habitat. Launching.”

Becca slumped beside him, her fist gripping the locked door handle, her face distorted by fear under her mask. The door visibly shimmered as the submarine’s engines engaged fully, powering away from the habitat.

“Ethan, fuck. She’s wiped all the overrides. Ethan, we’ve lost control of—” Nik’s voice was silenced abruptly.

“Casualties minimized. Gray Lady fully disengaged,” Aimee reported as another depth charge shook the room.

The Lady gone, Becca pointed to her right just as the exterior hatch crunched over Dora’s access, distorting it like it was made from paper. Shit.

Ethan grabbed Becca by the upper arm. If they didn’t get out of here right now, they’d be dead in less than a minute. He yanked hard. “Becca. We have to go back to the habitat.”

She shook her head, panic edging her voice. “There’s nowhere left to go.”

Another depth charge rocked the room and Becca staggered.

Ethan was done discussing.

He bent and looped his arm around her chest and dragged her back to the access conduit. He gripped the ladder and began to descend.

Back to the failing habitat.