Elena did not think; her body simply reacted.
She lunged sideways, slamming her shoulder into Maya’s ribs with every ounce of force she had left. The sharp crack of Maya’s weapon echoed through the cavernous dock, the bullet ricocheting off the concrete pier in a shower of brilliant orange sparks.
Maya stumbled back, her boot catching on an iron mooring cleat. Before she could regain her balance, Elena grabbed the heavy steel flashlight from Maya’s tactical belt and drove it downward into the woman’s wrist. Maya let out a strangled cry, her submachine gun clattering over the edge of the pier and splashing into the ink-black water below.
«Get away from her!» Elena screamed, her voice tearing in her throat.
Across the dock, the two guards lowered their rifles toward Lilly. The little girl shrank back into the velvet armchair, clutching the small wooden music box to her chest as the tinny, mechanical lullaby continued to play.
Click.
The heavy steel blast door behind Elena shuddered, the hydraulic emergency releases screaming in protest as a plasma torch began biting through the center seam. White-hot sparks rained down onto the stone floor. Marcus was cutting through.
Maya scrambled to her feet, wiping a streak of blood from her lip, her eyes cold and merciless. She pulled a slim ceramic blade from her boot sheath. «You don’t understand what that child is, Elena,» Maya hissed, advancing with lethal precision. «She isn’t your daughter. She was Arthur’s first attempt. A unstable prototype.»
«She’s four years old!» Elena sobbed, stepping between Maya and the child, even as another violent contraction seized her lower spine, dropping her to one knee.
«She’s a vector,» Maya corrected, swinging the blade in a vicious arc.
Elena ducked, the steel edge whistling inches above her hair. She swept her leg across the slick concrete, catching Maya behind the knees. Maya went down hard, the back of her head bouncing off the iron edge of the pier with a sickening crunch. She went instantly limp, her eyes rolling back into her head.
Elena didn’t waste a second. Dragging herself to her feet, she stumbled across the pier toward Lilly. The guards in unmarked uniforms hadn’t moved; they stood like statues, their weapons trained not on Elena, but on the child.
«Lilly, baby, look at me,» Elena gasped, dropping beside the chair and taking the little girl’s trembling, ice-cold hands. «It’s Mommy. I’m here.»
The child looked up. Her eyes were wide, but there were no tears on her cheeks. Up close, Elena noticed a faint, silver surgical scar running along the little girl’s hairline, disappearing into her dark curls.
«Mommy,» Lilly whispered, her voice eerily flat. «The man in the suit told me if I played the box, you would come.»
A chill far colder than the ocean air swept through Elena’s veins.
Behind them, the center of the blast door gave way with a deafening screech. The massive iron plates folded inward, and Marcus stepped through the smoke, framed by the blinding glare of tactical floodlights. He carried an assault rifle across his chest, his suit jacket gone, his white shirt stained with oil and blood.
The six guards immediately dropped to one knee, lowering their weapons in precise unison.
«Stand down,» Marcus ordered, his voice echoing off the vaulted concrete ceiling. He didn’t look at the guards. His eyes were locked entirely on Elena and the child.
Elena threw her arms around Lilly, shielding the child’s small frame with her own body. «Stay away from us!» she shouted, her voice trembling. «I know what you are, Marcus. I heard you on the radio!»
Marcus paused ten feet away, lowering his rifle slightly. His face was a mask of unreadable stone, but the muscles along his jaw twitched violently.
Marcus paused ten feet away, lowering his rifle slightly. His face was a mask of unreadable stone, but the muscles along his jaw twitched violently.
«Elena, put the box down,» he said quietly. His tone wasn’t threadbare with malice; it was laced with something far worse—sheer, suffocating terror. «Put the music box on the ground and step away from her.»
«She’s my daughter!» Elena cried, tears finally spilling over her lashes. «You told me she died in the clinic four years ago! You let me grieve her!»
«She did die, Elena,» Marcus said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. He took one slow step forward. «Arthur harvested her brain tissue thirty minutes after she stopped breathing. What is sitting in front of you isn’t human. It’s an organic receiver for the genetic key.»
Elena stared at him in horror, her grip tightening around Lilly. «You’re lying to me again!»
«Look at her eyes, Elena,» Marcus urged, pointing a steady finger toward the child. «Look at her pupils.»
Elena slowly turned her head down to the little girl in her arms.
Lilly was smiling. It was a sweet, gentle smile, but her pupils were completely dilated—two vast, infinite pools of black that didn’t reflect the harsh overhead lights.
The tinny lullaby from the music box suddenly shifted, the notes speeding up into a frantic, dissonant screech.
«The biological carrier has made contact,» Lilly said. The voice didn’t come from the child’s mouth—it burst directly from the music box’s internal speaker, perfectly pitched in Arthur Sterling’s raspy, triumphant tone. «Transferring sequence now.»
Lilly’s small fingers snapped closed around Elena’s wrist with a terrifying, superhuman crush.
Elena screamed as a sharp, searing heat ignited in her veins, radiating instantly from her arm straight down into her belly. Her baby kicked with frantic, violent force, as if trying to tear its way out of her abdomen.
«Marcus!» Elena shrieked, falling backward onto the concrete, bound to the child by an agonizing electrical current humming beneath their skin.
Marcus moved instantly. He raised his rifle, snapped the barrel toward the chair, and squeezed the trigger.
BANG.
The wooden music box shattered into a thousand flying splinters.
The invisible current snapped. Elena collapsed onto her side, gasping frantically for air, clutching her stomach as the agonizing burning receded into a dull, throbbing ache.
Lilly dropped limply back into the velvet chair, her eyes closing as if she had simply been unplugged.
Marcus rushed forward, dropping his rifle and sliding on his knees beside Elena. He reached out to touch her face, his hands shaking uncontrollably. «Elena… Elena, look at me. Are you alright?»
Elena slapped his hand away with every remaining ounce of her strength. «Don’t touch me! You’re working for him!»
«I am trying to destroy him!» Marcus yelled, his composure finally breaking, tears shining in his eyes. «I had to play the part on the communicator! Maya was a double agent sent by Arthur to trigger the sequence early! If I didn’t let them think I was bringing you in, Arthur’s strike team would have bombed this tunnel from the air!»
Before Elena could process his words, a sudden, heavy metallic thud vibrated through the floor beneath them.
The dark water of the dock began to swirl violently. From the center of the subterranean basin, a massive, rusted steel platform began rising from the depths, dripping with black sludge and seaweed.
Mounted on the center of the platform was a glass cryogenic cylinder. And inside the cylinder, suspended in glowing blue fluid, was a grown man—identical in every feature, line, and scar to Marcus Sterling.
Marcus stared at the cylinder, his face draining of all color.
The intercom system above them crackled to life, Arthur Sterling’s laugh echoing from every speaker in the room.
«You played your role brilliantly, Subject 4,» Arthur’s voice boomed softly. «Thank you for bringing my brother’s final clone right to my doorstep.»