Page 41 of Pressure Point (Lantern Beach Blackout: Detonation #2)

CHAPTER

FORTY-ONE

Atlas watched Quinn work at the weather modification controls, her fingers moving with increasing confidence across keyboards and equipment that meant nothing to him.

Around them, machines hummed and beeped with electronic urgency while generators thrummed. Warning lights flashed as Quinn initiated shutdown sequences that would either save thousands of lives or create new forms of destruction.

“Kyle, Hudson—maintain perimeter watch,” Jake ordered, positioning his men to guard against any remaining Sigma operatives while Quinn fought to reverse their weather weapon. “Maverick—monitor our extraction route. We may need to leave this sandbar fast.”

Through the shelter’s open door, Atlas saw the storm’s outer bands lashing the island with increasing fury.

But the storm’s behavior now seemed erratic, uncertain. Pressure changes made his ears pop. The wind patterns shifted unpredictably. The ominous rumble of thunder didn’t sound quite natural.

“Quinn.” He moved to stand beside her as she monitored multiple data streams. “Is it still working?”

Quinn pointed to the central display showing Hurricane Delilah’s vital statistics.

“Look at the pressure readings. They’re destabilizing as the artificial enhancement shuts down.

Wind speeds are dropping, but unevenly. The storm’s trying to revert to natural behavior, but the transition is chaotic. ”

Atlas studied the scrolling numbers and graphs, seeing patterns that meant nothing to his tactical training. “Is that good or bad?”

“Both,” Quinn said, her voice tight. “The artificial enhancement is definitely failing—Hurricane Delilah is weakening rapidly. But I’m still not sure what the effects of that will be . . .”

As if summoned by her words, a violent gust of wind struck the shelter with enough force to rattle the walls. Atlas felt the pressure change in his sinuses, and outside debris flew in patterns that defied the storm’s previous direction.

“How long before we know if it worked?” Atlas asked.

Quinn’s hands moved constantly across the controls, making adjustments and monitoring feedback. “The storm should continue weakening over the next hour. But the instability effects could last for several more hours.”

Hudson’s voice came through Atlas’s earpiece. “We’ve got company. Three boats approaching from the northeast, moving fast despite the conditions.”

Atlas’s tactical instincts kicked into high gear. “Sigma reinforcements?”

“Most likely. ETA ten minutes.”

Atlas saw the intense concentration on Quinn’s face as she fought to stabilize the atmospheric chaos her shutdown had created.

They needed more time—time they might not have if Sigma operatives reached the island before the systems were completely disabled.

He stepped closer, his heart racing. “Quinn, whatever you’re going to do, do it fast. We’re about to have company, and I don’t think they’re coming to help.”

Quinn nodded, not taking her eyes off the monitors. “I’m trying to smooth the transition and reduce the instability effects. But Atlas, even if I succeed, we still need to destroy the equipment. If Sigma rebuilds this program somewhere else . . .”

Atlas understood immediately.

It wasn’t enough to stop Hurricane Delilah. They had to eliminate Sigma’s ability to create weaponized storms in the future. They needed to irradicate the formulas they had created—formulas stored on these computers. But they also needed to obliterate the expensive equipment itself.

“Do you need my team to set charges?” Atlas asked.

“I . . . I don’t know. But you could start setting them up, just in case.”

“We’re on it.” Hudson hurried away.

Thunder crashed overhead again, and the island shook beneath their feet from the unstable atmospheric conditions.

“Seven minutes!” Hudson reported. “Multiple armed personnel visible on the boats!”

Atlas checked his weapon and looked at his teammates. They were all wet, cold, and outnumbered but ready to hold their position as long as necessary.

“How much more time do you need, Quinn?” he asked.

Quinn’s hands paused over a final sequence of controls, her face pale but determined. “Thirty seconds to complete the shutdown.”

Atlas nodded. Everything they’d fought for—stopping the weaponized hurricane, protecting innocent lives, exposing Sigma’s weather modification program—came down to the next few minutes.

“Hold the line,” he told his team. “Whatever it takes, we hold the line.”

Because Atlas knew that if Quinn couldn’t complete her work, Hurricane Delilah would continue toward Lantern Beach with artificial fury, and thousands of people would die.

That wasn’t going to happen. Not on his watch.