sight of the ancient ship, something pushed through the smoke. She prayed it was Mac, somehow miraculously still alive. But what appeared instead, shrouded in a pall of smoke, was a massively shouldered beast, its ruddy bulk glowing with an inner fire. She caught a glimpse of horns—then the sight vanished as the Zodiac rounded the bend.
She settled back around and hugged her knees to her chest.
She felt leaden, in shock after the horrors of the past few minutes.
Moments ago, as the map had been loaded aboard the boat, she had heard Nelson scream. All eyes had turned to the eerie glow emanating from the hold of the ship. The team leader had silently pointed to the boat, and the assault team rushed through the crack in the hull. Once inside, gunfire chattered hollowly.
Elena had covered her ears, picturing Mac, Nelson, John.
Then came the screams.
Even her palms could not block the terror and blood in those cries. One of the gunmen reappeared, crashing blindly to his knees outside the crack in the hull. He looked like he had donned a suit of fiery bronze armor, but these plates shifted and clawed at his body, ripping through neoprene and skin. Blood boiled from the tears. His body arched back savagely, cracking spine and bone—then exploded in a ruin of blackened flesh and bright flames.
The team leader’s hulking bodyguard grabbed his charge by the shoulder and drew her and the remaining men to the Zodiac. The woman resisted at first, even taking a step toward the dhow, but by then the ship was burning, flames spreading. She scowled, turned her back, and waved them all into the boat and out into the meltwater channel.
The woman was not taking any chances at losing the hard-fought treasure, even if the map wasn’t intact. As the Zodiac sped along the icy river, dark eyes found Elena. As the woman silently stared, she used two fingers to pull back the neoprene hood of her wetsuit and shake out a fall of hair as black as a raven’s wing. Elena saw gears turning behind that hard, calculating gaze, clearly contemplating what to do with her prisoner.
The woman finally turned away as the Zodiac shot free of the glacier and into open air. Winds immediately assaulted them. Whitecaps ridged the waters of the fjord. A fog still clung to the sea, but its thick cloak had shredded apart.
A storm was coming.
As the Zodiac bounced through the chop, the destination came into view through the scraps of fog. A black conning tower stuck out of the blue sea. As the Zodiac rushed toward it, the submarine rose enough to expose a deck sluicing with seawater. The helmsman drove the Zodiac’s bow onto that wet deck, lodging it there.
The leader hopped out and gave swift orders. Two men hauled the heavy map box, while the giant came for Elena. She avoided his touch, shrugging away from his hand, and climbed out on her own.
With everyone offloaded, the helmsman abandoned the Zodiac and kicked it out to sea. Then he raised an assault rifle and strafed the pontoons, causing it to start slipping beneath the waves. As it spun away, Elena felt the rising rumble of the sub’s engines through the deck plates. It seemed the team was not wasting any time evacuating the area.
Except to attend to one last task.
Elena heard a muffled boom and felt the deck buck underfoot. A foaming streak cut through the whitecaps and sped away. Torpedo. She clutched a hand to her throat and stared toward the face of Helheim Glacier. A moment later, ice blasted high into the stormy air, the concussive force felt even from this distance. A huge section of glacier calved away, dropping like a white guillotine across the opening to the meltwater channel.
As the berg struck the sea, a huge wave swept toward them.
“Come,” the woman ordered.
Elena considered leaping into the water instead.
As if sensing her hesitation, the team leader faced her. “There is much you need to know.” Her eyes bore into her. “Much you will want to know.”
Elena balled a fist, ready to tell the woman to fuck off. But she pictured the map and the mystery of it all. The woman was right.
I want to know.
Elena turned and headed toward the conning tower, while still keeping her fist clenched. Intellectual curiosity might motivate her, but now she had another goal, too. She pictured Mac’s grinning face, the amused glint in Nelson’s eyes, John’s stoic strength.
I will get