“Her name is Meed,” said Irina. “She’s brilliant and she’s dangerous. She is a danger to this school’s existence, and to our power throughout the world. She is a threat to me and to Headmaster Kamenev and to each and every one of you.”

  She zoomed in on the image until Kira’s face filled the screen.

  “This is your target,” said Irina firmly. “This is your final test.”

  CHAPTER 87

  The Bering Sea

  ACCORDING TO THE dials on the console, I was moving at about ten knots. I’d found the switch for the forward-facing spotlight, and the beam cut through the water for a distance of about twenty feet. Beyond that, it was all haze.

  My depth was twelve meters. And if I could believe the compass, I was headed due west—directly toward the Kamchatka Peninsula, ten kilometers away. The hull was making terrifying noises, creaks and thuds that were even louder than the hum of the engine. Heat blasted through the cabin. I could smell motor oil and fuel and my own sweat. Every muscle in my body was tense. I was taking quick shallow breaths and keeping my movements to a minimum. I felt like I was in a very fragile egg, and I prayed that it would go the distance.

  Suddenly a loud squawk filled the cabin. My adrenaline shot through the roof. A red light on the panel was blinking. A second later, I knew why. I looked down and saw water seeping through a seam on the floor. I pulled the ballast lever to lift the nose angle, but the sub wasn’t responding. There was no way to surface. I felt a sudden rush of ice water over my feet, then my ankles.

  I scanned the controls and flipped the switch marked PUMP. Somewhere behind me another motor fired up, and I could hear water being sucked out through a vent. But not fast enough. The flood was rising up my calves. The nose of the sub was tilting down. I was descending fast. Twenty meters. Now thirty.

  The creaking got louder. I heard a rivet pop, then another. Like gunshots. I looked around the cabin. I started pressing every button, hoping something might seal the leak. I looked behind me. The only thing I saw was a hand-cranked radio mounted to the rear of the cabin, like something out of a museum. The sub tipped almost vertical and picked up speed. I knew I didn’t have much time. I was riding a rocket to the bottom of the sea.

  CHAPTER 88

  Eastern Russia

  THE ATVS WERE even louder than Kira remembered.

  She covered her ears and held perfectly still as the search party bounced over a ridge and down a rocky slope at the bottom of a steep 200-foot cliff. Kira knew the riders would be jostling for position, each one hoping to spot the target first. She knew they’d be pumped with energy and bent on speed. Her hope was that they’d scan the trail ahead but ignore the perimeter.

  Huddled under a pile of brush, covered with a thin mesh net that make her look like part of the landscape, Kira lowered her head and held her breath. The riders passed so close to her that the tires threw sharp bits of stone against her head and back. She did not flinch.

  Her body was already bruised and aching from the night before. She had no memory of the crash, and no idea how long she’d been unconscious in the water, only that her backpack had somehow kept her afloat until she’d washed ashore. She’d spent a desperate hour in the dark searching for the professor, hoping he’d been carried in on the same current. But there was no trace of him. She’d lost the one person on earth who could help her, the one person she could depend on. No matter how unlikely, the professor had become her partner. Now she was on her own again.

  Kira was furious with herself for her clumsy attempt on the shed early that morning. She should have known that the thermite had been degraded by age and by the salt water. She realized that she might as well have left a fingerprint. But she was desperate for weapons, something to even the odds—something beyond the meager supplies in her backpack. She’d hoped that she’d retreated far enough to avoid the dragnet. But she now realized that they were looking everywhere.

  As the roar of the ATVs faded into the distance, Kira shrugged off the camo net and stuffed it into the backpack. She needed to move, improvise another plan, accomplish the mission, no matter what. The mission was everything. She stood up, legs aching, and started to head back in the direction of the school.

  She’d gone just a few yards when a single ATV crested the hill in front of her.

  The rider was slender, with black hair and a bruised face.

  Irina.

  Kira gasped. She felt bile rise in her throat. She froze in place, but she was no longer camouflaged. She was trapped in plain sight.

  Irina froze, too, but only for a second. Then her mouth curled into a strange smile. She revved her engine.

  Kira made a dash across the trail for the cliff, about twenty yards away. She saw Irina begin to roll down the hill on her ATV. She was in no rush. She was enjoying this.

  The cliff face was nearly vertical, but it was laced with narrow cracks. Kira reached into her backpack and pulled out a handful of steel climbing pegs. She jammed them into small cracks and began to pull herself up the rocks. She looked back as Irina rolled to a stop at the base of the cliff. As Kira found another handhold, an incendiary bullet spattered flames and stone fragments inches from her head. She swung herself around a ledge and nearly lost her grip. Another shot exploded just below her feet. Kira knew that Irina was an expert sniper. She wasn’t going for a kill shot. She was just playing with her. For now.

  Thirty feet up, Kira plunged her hand into her backpack again and pulled out a large button. She slammed it against the rock face. In a second, she was enveloped in a thick gray cloud. For the moment, she was invisible again. She ducked behind a protruding section of rock and hung there motionless. When the cloud cleared, she looked down. Her heart was pounding.

  Irina was nowhere in sight.

  CHAPTER 89

  The Bering Sea

  THE SUB WAS resting on a ledge forty meters down. I heard the engine sputter and die. The water in the cabin was up to my chest. The pump was no match for the surge. The electronics under the console crackled and sparked like underwater fireworks. I was about to be drowned or electrocuted, maybe both.

  My heart was thumping and my mind was racing. I flailed around and grabbed the wheel on the inside of the hatch lid. I turned it to the left as hard as I could. I managed to loosen it, but I couldn’t push the hatch open. The water pressure from above was too much. I heard more rivets popping. It was like the entire Bering Sea was out to crush me. My lungs burned. I was floating inside the cabin now, kicking off the back of the seat to keep my head above water. The water bubbled up to fill the last air pocket. This was it. I tilted my chin back and took one final gulp of air.

  As my head went under, I heard a series of muffled beeps, about one second apart. Like a countdown. My only thought was that the sub had been programmed to self-destruct. Which meant I was about to be blown to pieces. I closed my eyes tight and waited for the blast. I wondered if I’d feel it, or if it would just be over. In that moment, I wasn’t afraid anymore, just frustrated and mad. I let out one last scream as I went under.

  Suddenly, the hatch blew off. The impact rocked me back against the inside of the hull. In less than a second, the pressure equalized. There was a hole above me—and open water. I grabbed my backpack, pushed myself through the hatch, and started kicking toward daylight.

  CHAPTER 90

  Eastern Russia

  EXHAUSTED, KIRA PULLED herself over the top of the cliff. She lay flat on the rock ledge, breathing hard. When she turned her head, she was staring across a narrow plateau covered with dirt and grassy stubble. The tree line was about twenty yards away. That was the cover she needed. She got to her knees and steadied herself.

  Suddenly, a violent kick to the ribs knocked her backward, almost over the edge.

  “Welcome home, Meed,” said Irina.

  Kira looked up. This close, Irina’s face showed the years. But the voice was the same—and it took Kira back. For a second, she flashed back to that bedroom fifteen years ago. The terror in her parents’ eyes. The blood on the bedsheets.

  “This is not home,” she said.

  Kira got back onto her knees and took another kick, this one to the head. As she went down again, her backpack slipped off her shoulder onto the dirt. She reached for it, fingers stretched out. Irina booted the bag off the cliff.

  “No toys,” said Irina. “Just us.” She bent down and lifted Kira’s head roughly by the hair. Kira spit a string of saliva and blood and wrenched herself free. She rolled hard to the left and struggled to her feet.

  Irina was circling, knees bent, arms flexed and ready. Kira aimed a kick at her knee and heard cartilage pop. Irina didn’t even react. She stepped forward and swung her leg at Kira’s midsection. It connected—hard. Kira crumpled as the breath was knocked out of her. She raised her arms to block the next blow, but Irina blasted through her defense, throwing her onto her back. In a blink, she had her hands around Kira’s throat.

  With her last surge of strength, Kira hooked her leg under Irina’s left knee. Irina grunted as Kira flipped her and pinned her wrists to the ground. As Irina struggled to lift her head, her eyes shifted. Kira turned and saw a tall boy in tac gear emerging from the edge of the tree line. His right arm was raised in a throwing position, a knife in his hand.

  Kira waited for his release, then rolled hard to the side, carrying Irina along with her. The knife buried itself in Irina’s thigh. Irina’s lips tightened, but she didn’t make a sound. She pulled the blade out and slashed it toward Kira’s throat. Kira knocked it away. They rolled again. With a powerful shove, Irina pushed herself loose. Her momentum carried her over the edge of the cliff. At the last second, she grabbed tight onto Kira’s wrists, dragging her across the rocky ledge.

  Kira lay flat and dug her shoes into the dirt, but Irina’s weight pulled her forward, until they were face to face, with Irina dangling in the air. Irina’s sleeve was ripped open, exposing her angry scar. She stared up at Kira, eyes bright with fury.

  “Your parents were weak,” said Irina, spitting out the words. “And the weak need to be weeded out.”

  Kira felt her arms and back straining from Irina’s weight.

  “Their blood is my blood,” said Kira. “Does that make me weak, too?”

  Irina glanced down the cliff at the boulders below. She looked at Kira.

  “Not weak,” said Irina. “Just needy. We could be stronger as a team, Meed. We could be unbeatable.”

  “Sorry,” said Kira. “I have only myself, remember?”

  She wrenched her wrists free and let Irina drop.

  Kira rolled onto her back, gasping. In an instant, she saw the glint of a knife swinging down toward her chest.

  CHAPTER 91

  THE BOY SMILED as he went for the kill.

  Kira batted the knife away with one arm and brought her knee up hard against his temple. The kid dropped onto his side, stunned and groaning. Kira picked up the knife and wiped Irina’s blood off it. She took a step toward the boy and instinctively visualized his carotid artery. One quick stroke was all it would take. He looked about sixteen. She hesitated, then slipped the knife into her belt and headed for the woods. The trail she’d taken from the school last night would be too dangerous now. She’d have to make her way back cross-country. As soon as she moved through the tree line, the forest closed in around her. The tall firs formed a canopy. White birches shot up everywhere in vertical stripes, and the undergrowth was daunting. After just a few hundred yards, Kira’s hands were scraped and bloodied from pushing through the tangled brush. As she tugged aside another prickly branch, she froze. Then she tilted her head slightly and listened. She was not alone.

  A twig cracked in the distance, then another. Fifty yards ahead, a line of students appeared through the trees. It was a foot patrol, moving slowly and deliberately. Younger students, Kira figured. Not yet worthy of ATVs. The automatic rifles looked incongruous against their narrow shoulders. But she had no doubt that they were deadly shooters. That skill was taught early.

  Kira was in a thicket of birches. She realized that her black outfit was a poor disguise against the white trunks. She kicked herself mentally for not putting her camo net in her pocket, instead of in her backpack, which was lying somewhere at the bottom of the cliff. She ducked down as the patrol moved toward her. Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming from the opposite direction. Then, a shout.

  “She’s here! I saw her!”

  It was a boy’s voice, calling out from a few yards behind her. Kira pressed her face into the brush, thorns stabbing her cheek.

  “Evanoff??” A voice called back from the approaching patrol. “Where the hell have you been?”

  Kira heard steps behind her, coming closer. Her hand tightened around the handle of the knife. The boy passed within ten feet of her as he hurried to reunite with his squad. It was the boy from the cliff. Kira gritted her teeth. This is what I get for showing mercy, she thought.

  Kira held still as the boy joined the other students. She could hear their voices, but the sentences weren’t clear. The boy pointed in the direction he came from, then turned to lead the way back. The entire squad moved with fresh intensity, spreading out in formation, with students a few yards apart.

  Kira rolled slowly to the side, trying to stay low. Her hip bumped the trunk of a thick birch. She crouched behind it, searching for a path out. In every direction, she saw ground cover that would rustle and crack if she made a run for it. The patrol was getting closer.

  She reached slowly into a pile of deadfall and picked up a thick branch about two feet long. She pressed herself against the backside of the birch then swung her arm in a high arc and let the branch fly. It sailed end over end and landed in the brush with a loud crunch about twenty yards away.

  “Target left!” a voice called out sharply. She heard steps moving quickly in that direction. Kira grabbed the birch trunk with both hands, braced her feet against it and climbed. Fifteen feet up, she reached a section where the white bark was mottled with gray. It was the best she could do. She rested one toe on a knotty stub, hugged the trunk, and held on tight.

  A half minute later, the near wing of the squad swept by underneath her. Kira’s foot was starting to slip off the tiny protrusion. The coarse bark was scraping the inside of her wrists. She adjusted her grip and tried to ignore the fire in her biceps and thighs.

  Through the light scrim of birch leaves, Kira watched the patrol moving off in the direction of the cliff. When the last figure disappeared, she began to ease herself down the birch, a few inches at a time. Suddenly, she felt herself slipping down the slick bark. She scraped her left shoe wildly against the trunk, feeling for a new foothold. Her toe hit a slick patch of moss. Her weight shifted, too far to recover. She clawed at the tree with both hands, but too late.

  She landed hard. Her right shoulder separated with a loud pop and she felt a blinding stab of agony—even more painful than she remembered. She jammed her mouth into the crook of her elbow and bit down on the fabric of her sleeve. She did not scream. After the initial shock passed through her, the pain came in nauseating waves. Kira folded her bad arm across her chest and rose to her knees. Then she stood up. Each shift brought a fresh blast of agony.

  She staggered over to a twin birch, with two trunks that split about four feet off the ground. She slid her wrist into the V and made a fist to wedge it tight. She rotated her torso to face the tree. She took a deep breath and jerked her body backward with all her strength. She heard the snap of the ball popping back into the socket. She saw bright sparks. She fell to her knees again and pulled her hand out of the wedge. Tears of pain streamed down her cheeks. Her body was telling her to stay still and conserve her energy. But she wouldn’t listen.

  As soon as the flashes in her eyes eased, Kira backed away from the thicket, found a small gap in the underbrush, and headed west.

  CHAPTER 92

  The Bering Sea

  I SWAM FOR an hour through cold, choppy water. Even while I was doing it, I couldn’t believe my own strength. It was more than adrenaline. More than Kira’s training. I felt like I had left my old body behind, almost like I had turned into a different species.

  When my feet finally touched bottom, I was still about twenty yards off the peninsula. I could see waves curling around huge rocks at the shoreline. A steep hill rose just beyond, covered in brownish grass and stubby bushes.

  I sank calf-deep into cold muck as I half-walked, half-swam toward the beach.

  For the last few yards, I was tripping over jagged rocks. I fell on my face in the water and crawled the rest of the way. When I finally got to shore, I crawled behind a craggy boulder and pulled my backpack under my shoulder for a cushion against the hard rocks.

  The beach was just a narrow strip. It was littered with boulders, blasted from some ancient volcano. Back in the years when I was doing my doctoral research, I would have been scouring the site for signs of life, traces of lost civilizations. Now I was looking for a school of killers. And my only advantage was that they probably thought I was dead.

  I heard a roar in the distance, coming from the south end of the peninsula. At first, I thought it was a chainsaw. But it kept getting louder. Then I spotted movement. It was a pack of ATVs, moving single file in the narrow space between the hillside and the beach. Four of them.

  For a second, I thought about backing out into the water and waiting until they passed by. But I was tired of running. In the past two days, I’d been firebombed, shot at, and blasted out of the sky. I’d almost drowned. Twice. But Kira had taught me to survive, no matter what. She’d given me the power to fight. I decided it was time to start using it.

  I reached into my soggy backpack and pulled out a roll of wire. I unspooled a few feet of it between my hands and tugged on it. It felt as strong as piano wire, but as flexible as fishing line. The ATVs were still just specks in the distance, bouncing over rises, kicking up dust. The sound of the engines rolled up the steep hill and echoed back down.