Breathless. Sharron McClellan
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they didn’t move, shocked by the revelation.
Jess walked to Zach’s side. This had gone on long enough. Stunned or no, she needed them gone. The longer they took the less time she had. “Everyone in. I need you to leave. Now.”
Everybody boarded the Zodiac but Zach. Pointedly, she looked at him. Then the raft.
He shook his head. “You need me to drive.”
Dammit, she didn’t have time to fight him. “I can pilot a boat, and I don’t need heroes,” she said under her breath to Zach as the others bobbed on the waves, waiting.
“I’m not a hero,” he replied. “Have you ever driven a twin engine?”
“Yes.”
“One that has separate throttle and gear levers?”
Hell. “Yes.”
“Liar.”
She sighed. The others were waiting. “Just go.”
He shook his head again. “No. I’m not leaving you here, and the longer you argue the less time we have.” Leaning over the edge, he tossed his father a radio.
“We’ll be at the dock,” Al said.
Jess didn’t miss the ashen skin beneath his tan, and she couldn’t blame him. Bad enough to lose the boat.
But Zach was his only son.
Zach nodded. “See you there.”
Al nodded then revved up the Zodiac engine and sped toward port.
“Get to work,” Zach said, walking to the helm. “I’m taking us away from traffic.”
Just in case you screw up and we die.
He didn’t need to say the words. She felt it. “Give me fifteen minutes of top speed, enough to get us clear of anything, then stop,” she said. “I’ll need the engines off to do this.”
He nodded, and she headed down the stairs while he went to the helm.
Stopping by her room, Jess grabbed her MP3 player then headed to the engine room. Lying on her back, she studied the device. Tried to get into the mind of the person who set it.
Whoever it was, they wanted the boat gone, her gone and anyone who worked with her.
But Delphi said that Arachne wanted her alive. Was Delphi wrong? Did Arachne mean to kill her?
She rolled onto her back, the deck vibrating beneath her. Maybe it was all a test. Or to scare her.
A message that no one was safe with her?
Who knew what these people were trying to accomplish, but she knew she could not let them win. It wasn’t in her to toss her hands in the air and cry uncle.
The engines slowed and stopped.
Jess sat up. “Time to work.” Turning on the MP3 player, she listened to a compilation of Cake, Fatboy Slim and the occasional top-forty hit.
Zach walked through the door. “Anything I can do?”
“You could have left,” she said, her voice tinged with sarcasm.
“Not a chance,” he said. “Marines aren’t the only ones who refuse to leave a team member behind.”
She nodded, admiring him and wanting to smack him at the same time.
Cranking up the music, she wormed her way into the works of the engine, being careful not to burn herself on the now-hot parts.
Luckily, she didn’t have to go far. Using a screwdriver, she removed the bomb casing and breathed a sigh of relief. Whoever set this did not expect her to find the device. It looked simple.
A warning went off in her head as soon as the thought crossed her mind.
Nothing was ever that easy.
Especially disarming a bomb. “The Distance” stopped and Christina Aguilera’s, “Fighter,” began to play. One of her favorite songs.
She traced the wires. Good. Good.
Her hand stilled at a white one. Not so good.
There was a false wire in the mix. Meant to mislead her.
And if there was one there might be more.
She glanced at the timer. She had less than thirty minutes.
All the time in the world.
Sweat stung her eyes as she traced the other wires. They looked real. Active.
It was time to make the hard decisions.
She took a deep breath and removed her earphones.
“You okay?” Zach asked.
“Good.”
“What next?”
“Now, we see who’s smarter,” she said. “Me or the person who made the bomb.”
She pulled out the set of wire nippers from the front of her bathing suit. “Red wire. Blue wire.” She murmured her lucky chant, staring at the green and yellow wires.
Holding her breath, she snipped the yellow.
She exhaled. “Still alive.”
“Jess!” She tensed at Zach’s shout. “The timer.”
She glanced at it. It was counting down now at twice the speed of normal.
She’d screwed up. And bad. She took a deep breath. Now was not the time to panic. “Zach, get out of here!”
He yanked on her foot, trying to pull her out. She kicked him away. “You can do this,” she whispered. “You can do this.” There were two minutes left.
All the time in the world.
Red wire. Blue wire. Red wire. Blue Wire.
She scooted around the still-hot engine, burning her arm against the metal and no longer caring. She’d missed something.
She followed the wire to the C-4. There. Another wire. Whoever did this was good, she realized. Better than good.
Red wire. Her heart pounded in her ears.
“Jess!”
Seconds now.
All the time in the world.
She snipped the blue wire.
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