Chapter 26
The subterranean server room beneath the shipyard bunker smelled of burning insulation and copper. The last remaining syndicate leader, a rogue foreign intelligence officer, stood frantically typing commands into an armored terminal. The satellite dish on the roof was already humming, transmitting the pulse code. The countdown display read: 00:00:30.
"You're too late, Vanguard!" the man screamed hysterically, raising a sidearm. "The Eastern Seaboard burns, and your shadows burn with it!"
He slammed his palm down onto the execution key.
Emily didn't fire a single bullet. Moving with terrifying, calculated grace, she stepped forward and raised her left wrist. She pressed the secondary bezel of her narrow silver watch directly against the housing of the main satellite transponder interface. A blinding, high-output electromagnetic pulse discharged with a sharp, concussive crack.
The banks of server monitors shattered instantly in a shower of sparks. The transponder tubes blew outward, the digital countdown dying into blackness. The transmission was permanently severed.
Realizing his failure, the rogue officer pulled the pin on a fragmentation grenade strapped to his combat harness, lunging directly at Emily in a final act of suicidal spite.
"Emily!" Ryan yelled.
Without an instant of hesitation, the young SEAL hurled his muscular body forward, tackling the officer to the concrete floor and kicking the live grenade beneath a heavy steel work table just as it detonated.
The blast wave threw Ryan violently against the concrete wall. Shrapnel shredded through his tactical shoulder rig, tearing deeply into the muscle of his upper right arm. Ryan slumped to the floor, crimson blood soaking through his uniform.
The cold, mechanical detachment that defined Emily Carter evaporated in a fraction of a second. She sprinted across the ruined room, dropping to her knees in the blood and rubble beside her brother. Her hands, usually as steady as a surgeon's, trembled violently as she applied high-pressure trauma dressings to his shoulder.
"Ryan! Keep your eyes on me! Stay awake!" her voice cracked, raw with a desperate, terrifying panic she had never once displayed on any battlefield.
Ryan coughed, looking up into the pale, terrified face of the sister who had always seemed invincible. A faint, bloody smile touched his lips.
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"Did I... keep the aisle clear, Emily?" he whispered weakly.
Tears escaped Emily’s eyes, cutting through the soot on her cheeks. She pressed her hand firmly against his chest, right over his Trident. "You did, Ryan. You did your job. Stay with me."
