At Seichan’s shout, Gray had already begun braking.

  Gunfire pelted the front of their armored Titan, sounding like golf ball–size hail. Bullets spattered against the bulletproof windshield.

  Guan-yin pointed to the forest on the left. “That way!”

  Gray gunned the Titan into a hard turn—aiming toward a wall of towering trees and a steep drop. A grenade struck the road near their flank. The blast jolted the Titan. A flash of flames and smoke washed across the side windows. As the concussion cleared the view, Seichan spotted the shooter lowering an RPG launcher.

  It can’t be . . .

  Then the Titan slammed into the forest’s edge and kept going. The front of the SUV tipped steeply. Only then did Seichan notice the thin trail descending from the road, too thin for their vehicle. The Titan crashed through saplings and bounced off larger trunks. More explosions and gunfire erupted behind them as the other Titan followed the path that Gray carved through the forest.

  Belted in place, Seichan dropped her rifle and clutched Jack with both arms. He hollered and wailed, which stoked her fury to a red-hot blaze.

  “Gonna get stuck!” Gray shouted.

  “Keep going,” Guan-yin insisted.

  The large tires and portal axles drove them onward for another fifty yards—then the forest broke ahead of them, opening into a packed gravel trail nearly as wide as their vehicle. It was lined by dense ferns and tangles of tall banyan trees.

  Guan-yin pointed. “Go right!”

  Gray swung the Titan sharply. The vehicle lifted on two wheels before crashing back down. With four tires under it again, the Titan sped off. Behind them, the second vehicle crashed into view and made the turn more deftly. Zhuang must have known about this trail through the Peak’s highlands.

  “Where are we?” Gray asked as they got moving.

  “Hiking path and fire road,” Guan-yin answered.

  To confound any pursuers, she directed Gray through a crisscrossing of other trails. With their vehicles still running dark, Seichan searched the surrounding forests for any other lights, for any sign of the enemy in pursuit. But the woodlands remained dark.

  “These trails form a maze across the Peak,” Guan-yin said. “With a half-dozen exits across Hong Kong Island and twice that number of lesser-known ones. Those damned pok gaai cannot cover them all.”

  The portable radio chirped from where Gray had tossed it atop the Titan’s dashboard.

  Zhuang’s voice traveled from the other Titan. “I just heard from Hong Kong. From Bolin Chén.”

  Guan-yin leaned over and nabbed the radio. She lifted it to her lips. “Bolin Chén? Shuí?” she asked, inquiring about the identity of the person.

  “Guà lán dēng long,” Zhuang answered in Cantonese, claiming the caller had been one of the triad’s Blue Lanterns.

  “What’s happening?” Gray asked.

  Guan-yin held up a palm and continued in Cantonese, while guiding Gray through more twists and turns.

  Seichan used the moment to rock Jack, trying to calm his fear, which had settled to a quiet trembling, but it did nothing to assuage her own fury.

  Guan-yin finally ended the communication with a sour expression.

  “What?” Gray asked, plainly anxious about Kowalski.

  “Your friend is safe. In the custody of one of the triad’s youngest. I’ve ordered him to take your man and meet us at Deep Water Bay on the island’s southern side, away from the main city. I have a catamaran moored at the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club. No one knows about it, except Zhuang. We can take it to Macau. No triad will dare attack our stronghold there.”

  With Jack somewhat settled, Seichan leaned forward. “It wasn’t another triad that attacked us, Mother. It was one of our enemies.”

  Gray frowned in the rearview mirror at her. “What do you mean?”

  Seichan pictured the assailant who had lowered the RPG launcher back at the intersection. There was no mistaking the Russian woman. She hadn’t even bothered hiding her pale features. Her snow-white hair had glowed in the darkness, reflecting the truck’s lights. The tattoo across her right cheek formed a black shadow of a sun with kinked rays—only now the symbol was distorted by a scar across it.

  “Who attacked us?” Gray pressed her.

  “Valya,” she answered, naming the Russian assassin. “Valya Mikhailov.”

  Seichan recalled their last encounter two years ago, just before Jack was born. Atop a blizzard-swept mountain in West Virginia, she had fired two shots at the Russian, a ghost out of Seichan’s past with the Guild. One bullet had struck the assassin’s chest. The other had grazed her tattooed cheek, toppling the woman off the cliff and into deep snow. The Russian’s body had never been recovered.

  Since that night, a fist of tension had knotted inside Seichan. She had been waiting for this moment, expecting it. When she had spotted Valya on the road, she had felt more relief than surprise.

  Seichan had always known that snowy hilltop battle had never truly ended.

  At last, it begins again.

  5

  January 23, 2:38 A.M. NCT

  Two miles under the Coral Sea

  Exhausted and bleary-eyed, Phoebe hauled her way up the spiral staircase. She hoped she could sleep. The strange discovery of the hostile coral tree kept her buzzed and agitated, but any further study would have to wait until the morning.

  She had left Jazz down below to secure the collected specimens from the late-night ROV run. They needed everything placed into one of the biology lab’s high-pressure isolation tanks. To ensure the integrity of any sea life, the specimens had to be maintained at the same pressure as outside. Otherwise, the extreme change could instantly kill an organism, even destroying the tissue integrity as its cells exploded.

  Can’t let that happen.

  Phoebe had wanted to stay and assist Jazz, but her post-grad student had chased her off, demanding she get some rest. Phoebe had offered only a half-hearted objection. So far, her sleep had been fitful aboard the station, especially as all the women shared a cramped dormitory on Delphin Tier. Everyone’s schedules were cycled around the clock. No one had their own bunk. Instead, like on a military submarine, they shared beds across shifts, what submariners called “hot racking.”

  Between the warm bed and the constant clanking, humming, and echoing of the station, she had not slept well.

  Jazz seemed unaffected by it all—then again, she was a decade younger.

  Phoebe climbed past the thick hatch that separated Elektra from Oceanus Tier. Each level of the complex had been named after a Greek sea god or water nymph. As she cleared the hatch, she was blocked by a tall Asian man coming down.

  Phoebe shifted aside to let him pass, but he stopped in front of her.

  “Dr. Reed, I was headed down to see you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  She did not recognize the researcher. He was definitely not with the biology contingent. She would not have missed him. He stood as tall as her and was strikingly handsome. His mop of black hair was faded tight on all sides. His almond-dark eyes glinted even in the subdued lighting.

  She had to look away from that piercing gaze.

  Woman, you have been alone for far too long.

  The man looked Japanese, but she couldn’t be certain. She also had trouble judging his age. Maybe mid-thirties, like her. He was wearing the typical navy-blue jumpsuit of the station, only his fit snugly over a muscular frame. She had also noted the icon on his breast pocket, of the earth superimposed by a pickaxe, marking him as part of the geology contingent.

  No wonder I don’t know him.

  “Our team could use your input,” he said and held out a hand. “I’m Adam Kaneko.”

  She shook it. “You’re a geologist?”

  “Seismologist, to be precise.”

  Ah, that’s why he’s up so late.

  During the past five days, there had been periodic tremors, but nothing as severe as the one that had knocked the station off its anchors a few days ago.

  “How can I help you, Mr. Kaneko?”

  “Please call me Adam.” He gave a small bow of his head. When he raised his face, his brows were knit with concern. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but a massive quake struck Southeast Asia, with an epicenter in the South China Sea. It only happened within the past hour, so details are sketchy.”

  “I hadn’t heard. But why do you need to consult with a biologist?”

  Especially me.

  “For the past two weeks, our team has been mapping the epicenters of a cluster of tremors. They all seem to be rising from the Tonga Trench, about four hundred miles from our location.”

  “Should we be concerned?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  Phoebe was not reassured, especially at the hesitancy in his voice.

  “It’s better if I show you,” he said. “If you can spare a few minutes.”

  “Of course.”

  Adam led her off the stairs and across Oceanus Tier. The two levels below were the domain of the biology departments; this level was dedicated to chemistry, engineering, and geology. It also had a large lecture hall for cross-disciplinary discussions.

  Up until now, Phoebe had barely set foot on this tier. Adam guided her past one of the emergency docking sections. Each level had them. Beyond a thick airlock hatch, four steps led down to a circular docking ring. With all the talk of quakes, she was suddenly all too aware of the two tons of pressure squeezing down upon every inch of the station.

  “This way,” Adam said, noting her slowing.

  He took her around the central hub and to a door marked with a pickaxe crossed by a hammer. Inside, the geology lab was laid out similarly to all the others. The space was divided into a warren of cubicles, booths, and workstations. Across the back wall, a curve of polarized black glass glowed with the rosy shine of the exterior lamps.

  Even at this late hour, men bustled about worktables and computer stations. Sifters rattled and shook. Something rhythmically thumped. The air had a bitter taint to it, likely from reagents and acids used to analyze core samples.

  Adam walked her past all of it and over to a wide arc of monitors with a trio of ergonomic chairs before them. Two people were already settled there, and Adam waved her to the empty seat.

  Phoebe sank warily into it, confused by the strange summons. An older Japanese man, with neatly combed white hair, sat in the center. He greeted her with a small bow of his head. Still, he kept working at a set of controls, studying his monitor, peering through a slim pair of reading glasses perched on his nose. On the screen, a glowing topographic map slowly shifted over a rocky landscape, shining in a rainbow of hues. A towering cliff rose on one side.

  Past the old man, the third seat was occupied by a familiar figure.

  “Thank you for joining us, Dr. Reed,” William Byrd said, leaning forward to meet her eye. “I hope we don’t have to keep you for long, but I suggested we consult with you on what we discovered.”

  “I’m happy to help.” She glanced over to Adam, who stood behind the older man. “I was told about the continuing swarm of quakes, but I don’t understand what the geology department needs from me.”

  Byrd sighed. “After that large jolt a few days ago, I’ve directed considerable resources to assessing the threat level, both to the station and to the general area. For now, the epicenters all seem to be rising along the Tonga Trench.”

  The older man glanced over the top of his glasses at the billionaire. “Not just along the trench, Mr. Byrd. But from one small stretch of it.”

  “I’m not sure I’d call a hundred-mile section of the trench small.”

  “Still, the patterning remains strange,” the older man insisted. “And worrisome.”

  “It’s too early to state that with any certainty.” Byrd waved over to Adam. “Even your nephew agrees with me.”

  Phoebe looked between the older man and Adam, only now recognizing the resemblance between the two.

  Adam noted her attention and made the introduction. “My uncle. Dr. Haru Kaneko. Department head of volcanology at Kyoto University.”

  “It’s an honor to meet you,” Phoebe said, still unclear why she had been summoned here.

  Byrd twisted in his seat. “Adam, while we continue our sonar scan, can you catch Dr. Reed up on the geology team’s assessment.”

  “Of course.”

  Adam shifted next to Phoebe and tapped at a keyboard before the monitor in front of her. He brought up a regional map.

  “This chart shows all the major trenches throughout the area,” Adam explained. “A veritable maze, as you can see. It’s why Southeast Asia is one of the most tectonically active areas of the planet. The Tonga Trench alone is the source of two-thirds of the world’s deep-earth quakes. Such volatility is due to the collision of four major tectonic plates. The Pacific, Indo-Australian, Philippine, and Eurasian plates.”

  She nodded, aware of this through her own interest in deep-sea life.

  Adam tapped a finger near the middle of the map. “Those big four meet at one point near the center of the Indonesian islands.”

  Haru waved an arm at his nephew. “Adam, please show Dr. Reed the latest seismology map. That will make matters clearer.”

  “I’m bringing it up now,” Adam said as he tapped a few more keys. “There.”

  A new map of the same region appeared, only now it was dotted by crimson stars of various sizes.

  “The stars mark all the seaquakes recorded over the past four days. I restricted the mapping to only those tremors greater than 2.0 on the Richter scale. The larger the star, the stronger the quake.” He had used a stylus to circle a celestial cluster in the middle of the Tonga-Kermadec Trench. “As you can see, the activity in this section of the chasm is extraordinarily volatile.”

  “And has been for the past two weeks,” Haru added.

  “But swarming of quakes is not uncommon in this region,” Byrd clarified, likely to reassure her.

  “True,” Adam said, “but these tremors have been growing steadily. Both in numbers and strength. My uncle has been aboard the Titan X for the past three months, monitoring seismic activity during the finalization of the complex. He was the first one to note the disturbing clustering that started two weeks ago.”

  Haru spoke up. “I’ve kept a log of each tremor. Dates, durations, strengths, and locations.”

  Adam nodded. “I used my uncle’s data to build a force vector map. It seems to show that the quaking here in the Tonga Trench is spreading outward along the regional maze of trenches and fault lines, amplifying in strength as it sweeps westward. Let me show you.” He tapped again at the keyboard. “Here are the main vector lines that my program compiled.”

  The same map was now overlaid by three large arrows that spanned Indonesia and the surrounding countries, aiming for the coastline of Asia.

  “What does this mean?” Phoebe asked.

  Haru answered, “From the models that my nephew projected, if the current escalation of quakes continues, the entire Sunda Arc of volcanos could destabilize, possibly erupt. Maybe across all of Southeast Asia.”

  “How many volcanos are you talking about?”

  Adam drew Phoebe’s attention back to his screen. “There are more than seven hundred in Southeast Asia, both active and potentially active. I’ve marked the ones that are the most threatened if the current pace of escalation in volatility continues.”

  He pulled up another map with small triangles dotting the region.

  Phoebe choked down a gasp. “There’s still close to a hundred.”

  “One hundred and twenty-two,” Adam corrected. “Some of those triangles mark clusters of two or three volcanic peaks.”

  Phoebe glanced to the map that showed the force vector arrows. They all ran straight through the volcanic areas. “What’s causing this to happen?”

  Byrd shifted forward. “That’s what we’re trying to determine. It might simply be a normal pattern of stress relief between Tonga’s tectonic plates. Everything could quiet once enough pressure is released.”

  Haru cast the billionaire a doubtful look. Clearly this was an ongoing point of contention between the two men.

  Byrd ignored him and continued, “I deployed a pair of DriX USVs along the Tonga Trench. They’re unmanned surface vehicles that can perform high-quality sonar surveys. We can operate them remotely from this station.”

  “I’m familiar with the vehicles from my own research,” Phoebe said.

  “Of course.” Byrd nodded. “Late this evening, we reached the problematic section of the trench. Then a short time ago, we came upon an unusual discovery, one that we’d like your input on.”

  “My input? Why?”

  “Can you show her, Dr. Kaneko?”

  Adam’s uncle nodded. “Give me a moment to set this DriX on an autonomous course along the trench. We don’t want to miss anything.”

  On his screen, a high-definition topographic map of the Tonga Trench glowed in a rainbow of colors. The high tops of seamounts shone in bright yellows. The lower slopes and rifts were an emerald green. The deepest regions glowered in shades of blue.

  She noted the depth reading on the map.

  More than six thousand meters. Twice the station’s depth.

  She knew the deepest section of the Tonga Trench—Horizon Deep—reached depths of ten thousand meters. Even there, life persisted, though it was limited to worms, shrimp, and sea cucumbers.

  What else could be down there?

  Phoebe suspected the answer, which only heightened her anticipation.

  3:04 A.M.

  As they all waited, Adam watched Phoebe’s knee bopping up and down. She squinted at the screen, while absently rubbing her palms together. Her dark hair had been bunched back from her face with a bright tie, which made her singular focus imposing, like a thunderstorm threatening to break.

  He recognized that intensity. Before enrolling at the University of Tokyo, he had served six years with the Japanese Special Defense Force, much to his father’s ire. He had worked alongside soldiers, especially snipers, who could maintain such a determined focus.