Page 36 of Pressure Point (Lantern Beach Blackout: Detonation #2)

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX

Quinn stood in the temporary command center staring at the satellite images Colton had just spread across the table.

The uninhabited island was barely a speck of land in the Pamlico Sound, but the equipment visible in the enhanced photos was unmistakably sophisticated. There were antenna arrays, mobile command units, and what looked like weather monitoring stations far too advanced for a research outpost.

“That’s it.” Her breath caught. “That’s their base of operations. The ionospheric heating equipment, the coordination systems for cloud seeding—it’s all there. Maybe that’s even where I was held. Maybe I escaped and swam across the channel to Lantern Beach.”

“Makes sense,” Atlas murmured. “It would be possible. It would be a long swim but doable if you were in good shape—and you are.”

Ty leaned over the images, his expression grim. “How certain are you that’s what we’re looking at?”

“Completely. The positioning is perfect for manipulating storm systems approaching from the southeast. And look at these antenna configurations—” Quinn pointed to specific structures. “Those aren’t communication devices. It’s atmospheric manipulation equipment.”

Outside the briefing room, Quinn heard urgent radio chatter about FBI agents getting closer. Agent Hughes was probably at the helm.

“We’re almost out of time.” Ty glanced at his phone, where updates were coming across his screen. “Hurricane Delilah is getting closer to landfall, and if that equipment isn’t shut down . . .”

“People will die,” Quinn finished. “We’re already on borrowed time. I don’t know if we can get everyone off the island in time. And anyone left . . . they can’t survive this.”

Ty stood, his presence filling the room. “Atlas, you, Maverick, Jake, Hudson, and Kyle need to get to that island, shut down the equipment, and get back before the storm makes travel impossible.”

Quinn stepped forward. “I’m going too.”

Ty grimaced. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I’m the only one who can shut it down,” Quinn reminded him. “It won’t be enough to destroy the equipment. I need to destroy the program that created this monster.”

“ If you remember how.”

She swallowed hard. “I will.”

He still hesitated.

She stepped closer. “Listen, internet is already bad. Communications will be shut down. I won’t be able to talk them through anything. I need to be there.”

Ty nodded slowly. “I can see that.”

“What about the FBI?” Atlas asked.

“I’ll hold them off as long as I can. I’ll tell them you’re conducting evacuation operations and buy you some time.” Ty’s expression was resolute. “But once you’re gone, you’re on your own.”

Quinn’s stomach clenched as the reality of the situation hit her. They were about to head into a hurricane to assault a fortified position, with federal agents trying to arrest her and Sigma operatives defending their weather weapon.

The odds of survival weren’t good.

“Let’s move.” Atlas gathered a couple of satellite photos. “Every minute we delay makes the crossing more dangerous.”

They filed out of the briefing room and rushed back to Blackout headquarters to gather their equipment.

Ten minutes later, they headed to the back of the property.

Quinn immediately staggered as the wind hit her.

The gusts would reach tropical storm strength soon—which started at thirty-nine miles per hour.

The air carried with it the smell of rain and the electric tension that preceded major weather events.

The Pamlico Sound stretched before them, its normally calm waters churned into whitecaps that reflected the darkening sky. Their boat—a reinforced patrol craft designed for rough weather—looked impossibly small against the growing fury of the approaching hurricane.

“Weather’s deteriorating fast,” Hudson called out over the wind. “We need to move now if we’re going at all.”

Quinn looked up at the roiling clouds, her instincts screaming warnings about wind shear, pressure drops, and the violent air currents that preceded major storms.

Everything in her training said this was suicide.

Then she thought about Dr. Hartwell’s body on the rocks, about the families evacuating the island, about the thousands of people who would die if Hurricane Delilah made landfall at artificial strength.

Please, she prayed silently as they approached the boat. Let us get there in time. Let us stop this storm. And, please, bring us all home safely.

Before heading to the boat, Atlas grabbed Quinn’s arm.

She turned toward him, her heart racing as adrenaline pumped through her system. “Yes?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He stared at her, practically pleading with her to change her mind. “It’s going to be dangerous.”

She noted how he gripped her arm. His concern for her touched a place deep inside her, a void that had been there since she’d found herself with amnesia.

If Atlas hadn’t been the one who rescued her, she’d be in a totally different position right now. She thanked God for putting him in her path—or, should she say, that He’d put her in Atlas’s path.

Atlas waited for her response.

“I need to do this.” The wind whipped around her as she stared up at him. “This may all be my fault.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

“I’m glad you believe me. I really am. But you may want to put distance between us. If I go down, I don’t want to take you with me.”

He stared at her, something unspoken in his gaze.

He cared about her, didn’t he?

She cared about him also. She couldn’t deny it. They hadn’t known each other long—but they’d known each other long enough.

“You guys!” Jake called. “We need to go. Now!”

They stared at each other another moment, unspoken conversations drifting between them. Then Quinn reached up and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

Hopefully, they could talk later.

Right now, they had a hurricane to disarm.

As they climbed aboard the boat, Quinn couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to face the most dangerous mission of her life—even if she couldn’t remember what her life had been before.