Chapter 180 - Severing the Tectonic Pulse
The junction box was locked beneath a three-inch slab of cold-rolled steel. Through the inspection viewport, the digital LED of the sub-aquatic receiver was flashing in sync with the console above: *00:22... 00:21...*
The acoustic hum had turned into a violent mechanical roar that shook my very bones. Small pebbles and granite dust were beginning to drift down from the ceiling of the underwater shelf. The rock was already fatiguing.
I ignited the underwater cutting torch.
A blinding magnesium flare tore through the pitch black of Lake Tahoe, illuminating the sheer granite cliffside in brilliant, searing white. The chemical flame, burning at five thousand degrees, bit into the steel locking pins of the junction box.
Bubbles and superheated steam erupted around my face mask, threatening to obscure my vision.
*00:14... 00:13...*
The first pin melted away. I jammed the blade of my combat knife into the seam, using all my strength to pry the heavy plate outward. The metal groaned against the water pressure, bending an inch.
Through the gap, I saw the thick, braided copper core of the primary power umbilical and the glowing optical fiber line carrying the dead-man detonation cipher.
*00:08.*
I threw the torch down, gripped the titanium hilt of my combat knife with both hands, and drove the heavy serrated blade straight into the bundle of fiber optics and copper wire.
A blinding blue arc flash illuminated the dark water. The high-voltage surge blew through the blade, throwing a violent electrical shock straight through my insulated gloves that knocked the breath from my lungs. My heart stuttered against my ribs as the current surged through my shoulders.
I gritted my teeth, spat blood around my mouthpiece, and twisted the blade with brutal force, severing the final strands of glass and copper.
The deafening roar in the water died instantly.
The blinding arc flash extinguished into total, suffocating darkness.
The violent vibration in the bedrock stopped. The falling dust settled into the black deep.
I hovered there in sixty feet of icy water, chest heaving, drawing ragged breaths from the rebreather. My wrist timer blinked: *00:01... ABORT CONFIRMED.*
Whispering Pines was still standing. The granite shelf had held.
I pulled myself up along the rock face, using the manual guide ropes to ascend at a safe pace to avoid decompression. When my head finally broke the surface of Emerald Bay near the boathouse dock, the crisp Sierra mountain air filled my lungs as I ripped off my mask.
On the terrace above, the floodlights were steady. The twin Black Hawks were idling their turbines, ready for transport.
Master Chief Miller leaned over the railing of the dock, extending a gloved hand to haul me up onto the timber planks.
"Nice work, Commander," Miller said, eyeing the blood seeping through my torn wetsuit sleeve. "Console went dead three seconds before structural failure. The basin is secure."
May you like
"And Victor?" I asked, wiping water from my eyes.
"Cuffed and loaded into the lead bird," Miller said. "Federal marshals just took custody of Clara at the county border. Arthur is on the secure line—he says there's something you need to see before we take off."
