Kronos

39

The Titan

After the burst of gunfire from the submersible sitting on the Titan ’s front deck, Trevor realized two things: Atticus was coming…and he was pissed. He leaned forward and peered out the bridge’s front window, taking in a view of Ray resting below. He could see Atticus pulling himself through one of the lexan viewing ports. Atticus slid onto the deck, reached down, and pulled a long knife from a sheath attached to his belt.

“Oh hell,” Trevor whispered to himself.

He had no illusions about what Atticus could accomplish with the single blade. And he felt sure that the instrument of death would find him first if the attack on Kronos persisted. He was, of course, the man who had given the order to attack while Atticus was in the danger zone and his daughter…

Yes, he’s coming for me, Trevor thought.

Remus took a look through the bridge window as well and immediately took action. He drew a 9mm Beretta and snatched Andrea by the hair, pulling her roughly into the center of the bridge. Andrea let out a squeal of pain, but she was manhandled so roughly that the words she tried to form were knocked out of her along with her breath.

In that moment, as Remus began raising his weapon toward Andrea’s head, and Atticus’s footsteps clanged on the stairs to the bridge, Trevor became inspired. He imagined that Mozart or van Gogh must have felt something akin to this at times. When time either slows or the mind speeds up and all things become clear. The bridge door opened and for a fraction of a second his eyes looked into Atticus’s. It was like staring into a tiger’s eyes before being eaten. In that infinitesimal moment, Trevor felt he might die, but then set his visionary plan into action.

Nothing on Trevor’s face revealed he had seen Atticus. Rather, it exploded with surprise as he twisted toward Remus, raising his hands and shouted, “Remus, no!”

With those words, a quick facial expression and a flail of the hands, Trevor transferred Atticus’s attention to Remus. He didn’t even see the knife leave the former SEAL’s hand but he heard the clang of metal on metal as the knife struck the gun from Remus’s hand.

Remus cursed and screamed, loosening his grip on Andrea, who ducked to the floor. Before Remus could recover from the attack-before the dropped gun landed on the floor-Atticus took to the air and extended his leg like a piston. Atticus’s foot slammed into Remus’s sternum with a crack that sent the brightly clad behemoth soaring back into the control console.

Trevor blanched as Remus slumped over unconscious. The ease with which Atticus had knocked the giant unconscious disturbed him. Trevor raised both his hands over his head, yet remained cool and collected. “I pose no threat to a man like you, good sir.”

Atticus whipped around toward Trevor and stalked him like a silverback gorilla bent on destruction. Their faces were inches apart.

“You ordered the attack. Why?”

Trevor nodded, knowing a lie would be seen through and result in a painful experience of some sort.

“To kill the beast. That is what we’re here to do, is it not? You had obviously given up on the task.” Trevor took a breath and when he didn’t get strangled or punched in the gut, continued. “You knew the risks. When you descended into the deep, you were quite prepared to die if I recall corr-”

Atticus’s hand rocketed out, took Trevor’s black-silk shirt in tight, and yanked him even closer. Trevor could feel his hot breath washing over his face. “My daughter is alive.”

A quiver entered Trevor’s voice as he spoke, and this time it was genuine. “Atticus, please…think logically for a moment. Your daughter is in the belly of a sea creature…a predator of enormous proportions. She has been there for days. It is simply not possible that she is still alive.”

“But I saw-”

“What you wanted to see. It was a shape. A silhouette. The odds of the shape being your daughter’s dead body shifting inside the creature’s gullet is beyond remote, but I would more quickly believe that than the ludicrous idea of your daughter still living…still breathing inside Kronos. Please believe that I was acting on what I thought your desires were-to kill the beast or die trying. I-”

A squawking voice from the radio interrupted. “Target is in range. Permission to fire?”

Trevor froze as the helicopter’s pilot spoke the words. Kronos was injured, bleeding in the water. The torpedoes would find their mark and could quite possibly exploit the newly formed chink in the beast’s armor. If he gave the order, the fight could be won. The prize claimed!

But the tightening fist on his shirt told him that Atticus had yet to give up hope. How could he? Trevor had merely planted a seed of doubt, but he’d seen the images himself. Even he knew that somehow, for some reason, Atticus’s daughter still lived. Atticus would not give up, and if Trevor gave the order to fire, the words he spoke might be his last.

Atticus stole a glance at the big gun’s target screen, where the bloodied body of Kronos rose and fell through the waves. A pool of red had formed around the creature’s body, but it moved steadily away. Then the screen shifted, moving through the sky until it landed on the helicopter, fitted with four torpedoes. Trevor looked to see who was controlling the gun. Andrea sat behind the controls, her finger on the trigger. “Tell them to stand down, or I’ll do it for you.”

While Trevor would feel no remorse over the death of the men on board the chopper and cared little for the vehicle’s worth, he knew to do anything but issue a stand-down order would end in disaster.

Trevor nodded.

Atticus let go of Trevor, picked up a headset, and handed it to Trevor. “Stand down.” Trevor said into the mike. “Do not fire. I repeat, do not fire. Return to the Titan. The fight is over.”

Trevor put the headset down as the pilot replied without question, “Yes, sir.”

“Now then,” Trevor said as he turned to face Atticus again, “I will cease my assault on the beast if you truly believe there is merit to the images we saw. If your daughter is still alive, we will find a way to get her back. If not…I will have my prize.”

Trevor wasn’t sure if speaking with such confidence would go over well, but he was Trevor Manfred, and this was his ship. While he might compromise for the moment in order to save his life, he would not be given another order. He knew what Atticus wanted and would grant it to him for the time being. But he would not suffer the indignity of being told what to do.

“Giona is alive. I’m sure of it. If you help me get her back, I swear to you, I’ll kill Kronos for you after she’s safe.”

Trevor chewed on the proposal. Atticus, it seemed, could think clearly regardless of the adrenaline no doubt pumping through his veins. The offer was reasonable, but would Atticus hold to his end of the bargain once his daughter was freed? Better yet, how would they retrieve the girl from the belly of the beast without first killing it or themselves in the process? Questions for another time, Trevor thought. He would truly make up his mind about what to do later. First, Atticus needed to be placated. “Agreed,” Trevor said with a smile. “You’ve managed to raise the stakes yet again. Well done!”

Atticus stepped back, satisfied. “Are you okay?” he asked Andrea.

“Peachy,” she said, rubbing her head where Remus had yanked her hair. “Just your average day on the Love Boat.”

Remus stirred and Trevor saw his opportunity to bring things to a close. “I believe it best if we all retire to our quarters for the remainder of the day. Some time apart will allow heads to clear and plans of action to be formulated. We will talk again in the morning.”

Trevor could see that Atticus was about to protest, but a gentle hand on his shoulder and a calm voice put an end to it. “I think he’s right, Atticus. Nothing productive can be done today. We’re all too…shook-up. Especially you.” O’Shea pointed to the sonar screen. The large green mass that represented Kronos had gone deep-out of their range. “And Kronos is out of our reach.”

Trevor had never been happier to have O’Shea on board. The man had become indispensable at disarming confrontations. While Remus’s techniques proved entertaining, O’Shea’s gentle touch had a far more profound effect in volatile situations. The priest deserved another bonus.

Atticus relented with a nod and moved toward Remus, who was rubbing his head and looking around in a daze. Atticus bent down, picking up his knife and the Beretta. He held the gun up in front of Remus’s eyes. “Thanks for the gift.”

“Go to hell,” Remus grunted with a cough that caused him to wince and clutch his ribs.

With that, Atticus turned to Trevor, and said, “In the morning we’ll talk. If I don’t like what you have to say, you’re packing it up and leaving.”

And there it was. Another order. It was said so coolly and confidently that a lesser man would have simply agreed and left it at that. But Trevor was not a lesser man. His insides became a roiling caldron of fury. Atticus transformed from an admired warrior to insolent whelp in Trevor’s eyes. A very dangerous whelp, Trevor reminded himself.

“Enjoy the night…” Trevor said through a tight smile as O’Shea led Atticus and Andrea off the bridge.

It will be your last.