Ghost Ship (NUMA Files 12)

He turned for the door, but it was too late. A series of explosions shook the main house, blasting one section after another and heading toward them like a rumbling freight train.

Realizing there was no other way out, Kurt shoved Sienna toward the shattered windows and the veranda beyond.

“Jump!” he shouted.

Sienna leapt without question and Kurt propelled himself and Calista over the ledge half a second later. As he fell through the air, he felt the explosions closing in. Sections of the mansion to their right and left were blown apart simultaneously. The control room followed an instant later, erupting in a fiery detonation just as Kurt, Sienna, and Calista crashed into the deep end of Sebastian’s Olympic-sized swimming pool.

Kurt felt his legs crunch into the bottom of the twelve-footdeep pool and looked up. Seen through the kaleidoscopic lens of the swirling water, the distorted tongues of flame were almost beautiful.

A hailstorm of debris followed, including splatterings of napalm that burned on the surface of the water, and chunks of the stone from the house that crashed down around them like meteors.

Kurt grabbed Sienna to prevent her from surfacing as a second wave of fire streaked above them and retreated.

He could have remained down there for another minute or so, but Calista was struggling to pull free. He doubted she’d been ready for the dive. He gripped her tight and pushed off the bottom, angling away from the house and breaking the surface as the last smattering of fragments dropped from the heavens.

Treading water and helping Calista keep her head above the surface, Kurt turned in a slow circle and saw that half the world was on fire. The top floors of the mansion had been blown off, while the lower floors were consumed in flames. Waves of heat assaulted him, tempered only by the coolness of the water.

“That way,” Kurt said, pointing toward the far end of the pool.

Sienna began to swim, and Kurt rolled over onto his back, dragging Calista in a rescue swimmer’s stroke. When it became shallow enough to put his feet down, he did, and from there they waded to the wall.

As they climbed out, Kurt heard the sound of people approaching. He cocked the old pistol and readied himself for one more fight, but a friendly shout stopped him from firing.

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“Easy there, cowboy,” Joe Zavala said as he emerged from the dark.

As Kurt lowered the pistol, several Marines came into view, moving in behind Joe.

“Kurt, this is Lieutenant Brooks,” Joe said. “Lieutenant Brooks, I present Kurt Austin.”

Brooks flashed a grin at Kurt and then seemed to recognize Calista. He raised his weapon.

“It’s okay,” Kurt said, holding out a hand.

“But she’s one of them,” Brooks insisted.

“No,” Kurt said. “As it turns out, she’s not one of them after all.”

Brooks made a quick decision. He lowered his weapon and clicked his radio. “Get the SARC up here,” he said, referring to the Navy medic, two of whom had landed in Dragon Five. “We’ve got another wounded player.”

Even before the medic arrived, Brooks dropped down beside Calista and began working on her wounds.

“What about my children?” Sienna asked. “And the others?”

“Safe and sound,” Joe said. “I sent them for ice cream as soon as the battle got under way.”

Brooks chimed in. “They made it over the wall and met up with a couple of the guys from Dragon Three.”

“Where are they now?”

“Dragon Four swooped in and picked them up,” Brooks said. “They’re already on their way back to the Bataan.”

Hearing that, Sienna’s whole posture softened in a wave of relief. Her chest heaved, and she began to cry again. But this time they were tears of joy.

Kurt smiled. “So I’m guessing we won?”

“We did,” Joe said. “While you were taking a midnight dip with two beautiful women, the rest of us were working hard to turn the tide of battle.”