Page 73 of Rupture

Red dots flared to life, marking the estimated location of explosives. His fingers, clumsy in the thick gloves, tapped at the control pad strapped to his forearm. Two markers blazed brighter—his targets.

His depth gauge registered two hundred and twenty-six feet. At these depths, rushing was a death sentence. Add in near-zero visibility, freezing water, and armed explosives and there was no margin for error. One moment of hesitation or panic, and they wouldn’t be coming back.

The rasp of his respirator was thunderous in the silence. MARV’s faint glow guided him, mapping and confirming the explosive placements, feeding data back to his display. At the divergence point, he paused alongside Ethan and Liev. The three of them hovered in the endless black, their lights the only proof they weren’t alone in the void.

His dive watch read 28:00.

A solitary stream of bubbles rose from Ethan’s tank. “No heroics. In and out clean.”

“Copy,” Finn replied. “See you in twenty.”

“Moving.” Liev kicked away, fins flashing briefly before the darkness engulfed him whole.

“Rose. This is Finn. Approaching target one.”

“Visual confirmed,” Rose replied.

He spotted the camera above on the Io’s smooth hull. He stared at it for a fleeting moment, wishing he could see her face on the other end of the feed.

Coming back to you, Rose.

The Io was even more impressive than he remembered from their first descent. It dominated the cave floor, a curved monolith of sleek lines that defied the jagged rock walls confining it. But what should have been a vessel for groundbreaking scientific discovery had instead become another weapon in Triton Core’s arsenal.

He tilted his watch face.

25:00.

He swam along the hull, skimming his gloved fingers along the smooth glass. On the other side, interior lights glimmered as if in an alternate existence.

No sign of the explosive device yet, but his HUD’s proximity alert pinged with growing urgency, each burst sounding like a heartbeat gone haywire.

A shadow on the hull caught his attention.

Intake duct.

Finn slowed, grabbing the duct edge to anchor himself. The proximity alert was going berserk now, an unrelenting staccato rising in his ears.

Damn device wasinsidethe duct.

He maneuvered to face the duct, staring into obsidian darkness. The duct was massive, its cylindrical intake carved into the Io’s sleek hull—its wide, flared opening easily large enough for a person to crawl through. He angled the flashlight clipped to his forearm, shining it into the maw. A fine mesh grille was recessed inside the entrance, designed to keep debris from being sucked into the filtration system. Apart from that? Fucking nothing. Just endless black water and smooth alloy walls tapering into more darkness.

His jaw tightened on his regulator. He’d have to go in. Drawing one of his knives, he slipped the blade under the mesh grille and wedged it upward. With a metallic pop, the cover came free, and he tossed it aside.

“This is Finn. I’ve located the first explosive. Thea’s hidden it in one of the primary water intakes. Comms will be down for a few minutes while I’m in the duct disarming the device.”

“Copy that,” Ethan’s voice crackled in his ear.

Finn locked his teeth together and kicked off,launching himself into the duct. His body snapped into a straight line, fins brushing the rim as he propelled himself forward. The passageway closed in immediately, the smooth walls bearing down on his awareness. His air tanks grazed the ceiling with a dull clang, making him flinch.

Fucking tight.

He forced his focus ahead, his arms stretched forward. The flashlight clipped to his forearm cut a narrow beam of yellow-white light.

There.

A small box glinted on the duct floor.

Gotcha.

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