OPERATION GHOST RIG

THE PRICE OF DEFIANCE

The bullet tore through Asher's chest, and for one perfect second, Elias felt hope.

Then the hunters opened fire.

The corridor erupted. Muzzle flashes lit the darkness like lightning. Bullets ricocheted off metal walls, sending sparks cascading through the air. The sound was deafening—a thunderous roar that seemed to shake the entire rig.

Elias dove behind a steel beam. The metal rang as rounds hammered into it. He pressed his back against the cold surface, feeling the impacts vibrate through his spine.

"Jesus! Mateo!" he shouted. "Get to cover!"

He caught a glimpse of Jesus dragging Mateo behind a stack of crates. Mateo was bleeding from a gash on his forehead, but he was moving. Alive.

Elias popped out and fired twice. One hunter dropped. The others scattered, taking cover behind doorways and machinery.

"Vance!" Asher's voice cut through the chaos. He was on the floor, clutching his chest. But there was no blood. Only a torn shirt and a glimpse of black body armor underneath. "You think a bullet can stop me? I've survived worse than you."

Elias's stomach dropped. The shot had been perfect. Center mass. But Asher was wearing armor.

"I'll give you one more chance," Asher said. He was getting to his feet now, his movements slow but steady. "Surrender. Or I'll kill everyone you care about."

"Go to hell," Elias said again.

He fired. The shot hit Asher in the shoulder, spinning him around. But the armor held.

"Enough," Asher snarled. "Kill them all."

The hunters advanced. There were too many. Elias counted at least eight still standing, and they were moving with trained precision. Flanking. Covering fire. Coordinating through hand signals and radio clicks.

Elias looked at Jesus. The big man nodded, understanding. They had to retreat.

"Fall back!" Elias shouted. "To the stairs!"

They moved together, laying down covering fire as they retreated. Mateo ran ahead, his footsteps echoing in the narrow corridor. Jesus stayed behind, his massive form blocking the hunters' advance.

They reached the stairs and climbed. Bullets chased them, ricocheting off the metal steps. Elias's lungs burned. His legs screamed. But he kept moving.

At the top of the stairs, they burst through a door and into an open area. The mess hall. They were back where they'd started.

"They're right behind us!" Mateo shouted.

Elias spun and fired down the stairs. A hunter screamed and fell. The others hesitated.

"Keep moving," Elias said.

They ran through the mess hall and into the connecting corridor. The radio room was ahead. The others were there. The survivors.

But when they reached the door, it was open.

And the room was empty.

"What the—" Mateo started.

Elias pushed past him. The radio room was trashed. The console was smashed. The chairs were overturned. There were fresh bloodstains on the floor.

"No," he breathed. "No, no, no."

He searched the room frantically. The survivors were gone. Becky, Ava, Lauren, Henry, the child—all of them. Vanished.

A radio crackled on the floor. Elias picked it up.

"Looking for your friends?" Asher's voice was calm, almost bored. "They're safe. For now. I had them moved to the lower levels. The old holding cells."

"You son of a bitch."

"Sticks and stones, Mr. Vance." Asher laughed. "But I'll make you another deal. Come to the holding cells alone. Surrender yourself. And I'll let the others go. All of them. Including the cattle."

Elias's hand tightened on the radio. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"You don't. But what choice do you have?"

The radio went dead.

Elias stood there, his mind racing. The holding cells were in the lowest level of the rig. Flooded. Dangerous. And Asher was waiting there.

"He's using them as bait," Jesus said. "You know that."

"I know."

"So what's the plan?" Mateo asked.

Elias was silent for a long moment. Then he looked at the two men standing with him. "The plan is, I go down there. I get our people back. And I kill Asher."

"Alone?" Jesus shook his head. "No. We go together."

"He'll kill them if we show up with force. I have to go alone."

"That's suicide," Mateo said.

"Maybe. But it's the only way."

Jesus stepped forward. "Then let me go with you. I can be hidden. They won't see me."

Elias considered this. Jesus was right. The big man moved like a ghost when he wanted to. And having backup, even hidden backup, could make the difference.

"Fine," he said. "But stay out of sight. Don't move until I give the signal."

"What signal?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

They left the radio room and moved toward the stairs. The rig was quiet again, but it was the wrong kind of quiet. The kind that meant someone was waiting.

They descended into the lower levels. The air grew cold and wet. Water dripped from the ceiling, pooling on the floor. The walls were covered in rust and barnacles.

The holding cells were at the end of a long corridor. The door was open, spilling light into the darkness.

Elias stopped at the entrance. He could see shapes inside—cages, mostly. And in the center of the room, a single chair.

Asher sat in the chair. His shirt was torn, and blood was visible beneath the armor. The bullet wounds were real. They just hadn't killed him.

"Welcome," Asher said. "I knew you'd come."

"Where are my people?"

"Safe. In the cells at the back. But you won't see them until you surrender."

Elias stepped into the room. The light was blinding after the darkness of the corridor. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust.

The room was larger than he'd expected. Rows of cages lined the walls, most of them empty. In the far corner, he could see shapes huddled together. The survivors.

"Let them go," Elias said. "I'll give you what you want."

Asher smiled. "What do you think I want?"

"Me. You said I'm the target."

Asher laughed. It was a cold, hollow sound. "You're not the target, Mr. Vance. You never were. You're just a tool. A means to an end."

"Then what do you want?"

"The same thing I've always wanted." Asher stood, his body moving stiffly. "The experiment. The serum. The future of human evolution. You're part of it, but you're not the goal. You're just a stepping stone."

"Then why am I here?"

"Because you're useful. Your mind, your training, your instincts—they make you the perfect test subject. But the target is someone else. Someone far more valuable."

Elias's blood ran cold. "Who?"

Asher's smile widened. "You'll find out soon enough. But first, I need you to do something for me."

He snapped his fingers. The hunters emerged from the shadows, dragging someone forward. It was Becky. Her face was bruised, her eyes wide with fear. A hunter held a knife to her throat.

"Let her go," Elias said.

"I will. But first, I need you to make a choice." Asher walked to a cage and opened the door. Inside, an old man lay on the floor. He was barely conscious, his body broken. "This is one of the test subjects. A failure. He's going to die anyway. But you can save him. Just give me the girl."

Elias looked at Becky. Then at the old man. The choice was impossible.

"Don't do it," Becky said. "Don't let him—"

The hunter pressed the knife harder, and she went silent.

"Time's running out," Asher said. "Choose."

Elias's mind raced. He needed a distraction. Something to turn the tables.

And then he saw it.

A shadow moved behind Asher. Jesus.

Elias locked eyes with the big man and gave the slightest nod.

Then he spoke. "You're right," he said. "I'm not the target. But you're wrong about something else."

"What's that?"

"You think you're in control." Elias smiled. "But you're not."

He lunged.

Not at Asher, but at the hunter holding Becky. He grabbed the man's arm and twisted, forcing the knife away from her throat. Becky dropped to the floor.

At the same moment, Jesus exploded from the shadows. He slammed into two hunters, sending them crashing into the cages. The element of surprise was total.

Elias threw a punch at Asher, but the man was ready. He blocked and countered, his fist catching Elias in the jaw. Elias staggered but stayed on his feet.

"You're predictable," Asher snarled.

"And you're slow," Elias shot back.

They fought. Blows traded. Blood spilled. The hunters were engaged with Jesus, unable to help their leader.

Elias drove Asher back against a cage. The metal rattled. He grabbed Asher by the throat and squeezed.

"This ends now," he said.

Asher laughed, blood bubbling on his lips. "It never ends. Not for people like us."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device. A detonator.

"You see this?" he said. "One press, and the entire lower level floods. Everyone here dies. Including your precious doctor and the child."

Elias hesitated.

"That's right," Asher said. "You can't win. You never could."

The room went still. The hunters stopped fighting. Jesus paused, his pipe raised.

"Let them go," Elias said. "Or I'll kill you right here."

"If I die, the rig dies. There are charges throughout the structure. Timed to detonate if my heart stops." Asher's smile was bloody. "You're trapped, Mr. Vance. Just like everyone else."

The detonator glowed in his hand.

And somewhere above them, a ship's horn sounded.

The supply vessel was getting closer. And a voice crackled over the radio—a new voice, not Asher's, not the watcher's.

"This is the MV Horizon. We're receiving your distress call. We're coming to help."

Elias didn't take his eyes off Asher.

"Looks like your time's up," he said.

Asher's smile faded.

And the lights went out.