Chapter 86 - The Cage at Twelve Hundred Meters
Elena hauled herself into the narrow hatch of the escape bathysphere, dragging Maya inside the confined titanium sphere. Her muscles burned with pure fire, bruised ribs screaming with every ragged gasp she took.
Just as she reached to pull the heavy hatch shut, a bloody, manicured hand slammed onto the rim.
Victoria Montgomery, her face blackened by grease and blood, dragged her battered body up the ledge with animalistic desperation. "Let me in! Elena, you can't leave me here! I’m his mother! I’m Maya’s grandmother! You owe me!"
Elena looked into the face of the woman who had shoved her off the deck of that yacht on her wedding day, the woman who had stood at the ladder with a smile of pure malice, waiting for her to drown in the cold Atlantic.
"You gave up the right to family the moment you pushed me into the water, Victoria," Elena said, her voice ice-cold.
"Wait! Behind you!" Victoria gasped, her eyes widening in genuine terror.
A heavy combat boot slammed onto Victoria’s shoulder, brutally crushing her down into the flooding corridor. Julian Vance stood above the pod, his trench coat soaked, blood trickling from a split across his cheek, holding an assault rifle aimed directly into the pod's interior.
"Out of the way, old woman," Vance spat coldly, before locking his predatory gaze onto Elena. He raised the rifle, aiming at Elena’s knees. "Drop the hatch, Elena, and step out. Or I will shoot you through the legs, pull the child out, and seal you inside this iron coffin to sink to the sea floor."
Elena looked at Vance. She looked down at Maya, who was staring up at her with bright, innocent blue eyes amidst the chaos of the sinking vessel.
The hull around them shuddered violently. A deafening *CRACK* echoed through the corridor. The parasite submarine attached to the conning tower was buckling under the crushing atmospheric pressure of the trench. Saltwater was pouring into the bay in massive, crushing waterfalls.
"You want the child, Vance?" Elena yelled over the thunderous roar of the ocean tearing the submarine apart.
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"Give her to me!" Vance demanded, stepping forward, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Elena didn't hand Maya over. Instead, she reached into her jacket pocket, pulled out the high-intensity thermal emergency flare, struck the igniter, and shoved the four-thousand-degree phosphorus flame directly into the auxiliary oxygen line running along the hatch frame.
