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Commander Carmack stared hard through the dielectric reflective coated binoculars. Before him, the iron-gray ocean was being whipped by a freezing wind, sending horsetails of stinging spray along its surface. There was one oasis of calm, and that lay at the center of the flotilla. The few square miles of ocean were ringed by two of the most powerful naval fleets in the world, and nothing else mattered but that large circle of freezing water, with the small, sleek submarine at its center.

Carmack, and every other captain and commander on the water, and back at their home bases, watched the Sea Shadow. Everyone else watched consoles, stood by weaponry, or waited impatiently for orders to either fight or stand down. Until then it was up to someone else to make a first move. Fingers were on hundreds of multi-ballistic triggers.

The closest vessel was a Chinese Jiangkai I Type 054 Ma’anshan class destroyer. It was a big warship, at 450 feet, and displacing 4,300 tons. The floating death dealer was armed with an octuple rocket launcher, anti-ship missiles, AK630 CIWS turrets, ASW torpedoes, and a variety of mines. Carmack’s communication officers had detected the launch of several of these moments before, undoubtedly convinced there was an attack coming from below — they were only partially right.

The explosions that occurred deep below the Ma’anshan class destroyer were too deep to register on the surface, and Carmack and Hensen were just lowering their glasses when there came a flurry of activity onboard the ship. Whooping alarms rolled across the water, and more mines were flung over the sides, these rigged for shallow detonation, and their plumes of spray showered the deck.

Men started running wildly about, and there came the pop of automatic rifle fire as the sailors leaned over the rails to shoot down into the water. There was something there only they could see, but as yet, Carmack and his fleet could not.

“What the hell is going on?” Hensen said, frowning and moving between using his field glasses, and trusting his own eyes.

“I think we now have a new player,” Carmack said slowly.

A mottled green and black tree grew from the water beside the destroyer, higher and higher, lifting above the ship’s bridge, to then topple across the metal superstructure, bending the steel like it was made of matchsticks and paper. More of the giant things rose up, and then the cold mountain began to follow its limbs.

“Oh my god.” Hensen backed up a step.

The Kraken was revealed in all its monstrous glory, clinging to the side of the battleship, tilting it as its bulk came out of the water. It bloomed open, a gigantic flower whose petals coiled and thrashed.

“What the fuck is that thing?” Hensen whispered.

Carmack lowered his glasses, his face drained of color. “The thing that all sailors dread — the sinker of ships, the monster from the abyss — the Kraken.”

The thing rose once more, and then seemed to swell, flowing like liquid up and over the Ma’anshan’s superstructure. Tentacles wrapped the ship from stern to bow, their tips thin as a wrist, but where they joined the bulbous body they were as thick as redwood trees.

From across the water, Carmack heard the sound of metal complaining, and the 450-foot ship tilted even more, its nearest deck now close to the icy ocean’s water line. The muscular strength of the tentacles radiated inevitability, and the coils started to compress.

“Orders, sir.” Hensen waited.

Carmack exhaled. “Hold fire. We can’t do anything. We might hit the destroyer.”

Shenyang J-15 fighter craft swarmed and fired GSh-30–1 cannons and armor piercing rockets. Mottled flesh was blasted away, but they were pinpricks to the monster. An acrid smell wafted across the expanse of iron-gray water, and Carmack watched as men were encircled in tentacles, and then crushed like flies. The Kraken seemed to be acting in a furious desire to do nothing but kill the ship and everything on it.

Admiral Zang Do, aboard the aircraft carrier Liaoning, maneuvered the huge ship closer. It was the only thing larger than the monster, but with hundreds of tons of slimy flesh almost fully engulfing his destroyer, he obviously hesitated to fire, knowing a missile passing through the rubbery hide would strike the vessel.

“Fire at it, goddamn you, just, fucking, fire,” Carmack hissed.

The hesitation lasted another few seconds, and then there came the sound of an enormous cracking, as the huge destroyer bent in the center. Both the bow and stern rose up sharply, as the combined weight of the creature and its crushing tentacles had weakened the hull structure to a point of collapse.

Only then, was Zang Do shocked into action.

Hundreds of missiles, cannon rounds, and heavy machine gun fire lanced out at the huge creature. They were fiery harpoons, striking the flesh and embedding deep. Some blew car-sized chunks of flesh into the air, and dark blood stained the sea around the stricken destroyer.

“Send it back to hell,” Carmack whispered. He half turned to Hensen. “Back the fleet up.”

The creature slid back to the sea. But it didn’t relinquish its grip, as it dragged the broken ship down with it, ensuring its kill was complete. On the surface, there was a spinning whirlpool of debris and dead bodies where the monster had once been.

“Dead,” Hensen said.

“Dead? They hit it, sure. Did they kill it? I have no idea.” Carmack stepped back. He nodded towards the Chinese boats trying to pull surviving sailors from the water. “See if they want any help.” He sighed. “But I doubt they’d take it even if they needed it.”

“Well,” Hensen said. “I’m betting that episode might go a long way to adding some credibility to our story.”

“But a terrible price for finding out the truth.” Carmack turned away. “Bring the Sea Shadow in close, and get Hunter and his crew onboard. Time to go home.”

CHAPTER 65

“Show him in, Margie.” Colonel Jack Hammerson got to his feet, and came around from behind his desk.

Alex Hunter pushed open the door, grinned, and held his arms wide. “The world still stands.”

Hammerson smiled and held out his hand. “Only just… and no small thanks to you.”

They shook hands and Hammerson led Alex to a couple of leather arm chairs, with coffee waiting. He’d read the flash report Alex had put together — he and his team had been through hell. That they managed to succeed in their mission, let alone survive for more than an hour down under the ice, was a miracle and a testament to their skill and fortitude.

He patted his soldier on the shoulder. “Great work… great work. General Chilton read your report, and wants to meet you personally.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. “And the president?”

“I’m sure he would as well, if he knew about you.” Hammerson poured Alex a coffee. “Plausible deniability; you know how it works.”

Alex shrugged. “I wouldn’t know what to say, anyway.” He eased down into the chair, and Hammerson saw that he let his body relax. “We got the Sea Shadow back, so now what happens?”

Hammerson bobbed his head as he poured himself a coffee. “We scrap it. The design was superseded years back. It’s just that the vessel is decades more advanced than anything anyone else has, so if they want top tech, they can damn well work for it themselves.”

Alex snorted softly. “Of course.” He turned to Hammerson. “The Chinese were really going to go to the mat on this one. The PLA Special Forces went there to fight for it… and kill for it. There was never going to be a negotiated outcome.”