“We are gone,” I said, and turned away to head into the complex. After a moment I heard Bunny coming behind me.

I looked back once and saw Top standing there in the doorway. The dead monsters were all around him, and he looked like an ancient warrior on some battlefield out of legend. He sketched a small wave, and then Bunny and I rounded a bend and he was gone.

Chapter One Hundred Nineteen

The TOC

Tuesday, August 31, 2:39 A.M.

Time Remaining on the Extinction Clock: 33 hours, 21 minutes E.S.T.

“Blackwing Three to Deacon.”

“Go for Deacon.”

“Package has been delivered,” said the pilot. “It’s the night the lights went out in Georgia.”

“Roger that. Well done, Blackwing.”

Church leaned back in his chair and stared at the array of screens that had, until moments ago, relayed images from helmet cams of every DMS field operative on Dogfish Cay. Now all of the screens were dark except for the night-vision image from the satellite.

He heard someone come up beside him.

“What just happened?” asked Rudy Sanchez.

Church explained about the electromagnetic pulse bomb. “If we’re lucky, then Cyrus won’t be able to access a working computer terminal in order to send out the code for the Extinction Wave.”

“If we’re lucky?” repeated Rudy. “Dios mio.”

The satellite image showed hundreds of bright dots, milling around across the island. Every few seconds a brighter spot would flare.

“What’s that?”

“Thermal scans of the battle. Each dot is a signature for a combatant. The flares are explosions, probably grenades.”

“Which ones are ours?”

“We’ve lost all telemetric feeds from the island,” said Church.

“Which means what?”

“Which means we don’t know which ones are ours.”

The collision of the hundreds of dots made no sense to Rudy. Everyone seemed to be right on top of everyone else. All those soldiers, each person dressed in black, out of communication even with their own teammates. It was a frightening thought to him, and he could only imagine the terror the men on the island must be feeling.

“You’re a religious man,” said Mr. Church. It wasn’t framed as a question, but Rudy nodded.

“Yes.”

“Now would be a useful time for prayer.”

Chapter One Hundred Twenty

The Chamber of Myth

Tuesday, August 31, 2:41 A.M.

Time Remaining on the Extinction Clock: 33 hours, 19 minutes E.S.T.

For the second time in twenty minutes the lights went out in the Chamber of Myth.

“What now?” growled Cyrus.

“I… don’t know,” said Hecate.

“It’s that woman,” said Otto.

“No. There’s no bypass in here for the security lights. They’d have to be turned off from the security office. Your men must have done this.”

“No,” insisted Otto. “They are under strict orders to leave all systems in operation.”

“Why?” Hecate asked, then answered her own question. “Oh… you need a working computer terminal for your device.”

“Why don’t you say that a little louder?” said Otto icily. “Just in case the female agent didn’t hear you.”

Hecate ignored him. Instead she said, “Listen… can you hear the blowers?”

They were all silent in the absolute darkness. “I can’t hear anything except a few birds,” said Cyrus.

“Damn it! The blowers are offline.” Her voice was shrill with tension. “They’re on a dedicated system with their own generator. The controls for that are in my office.” She paused. “That means the main power is out as well as the security systems and auxiliary systems. All at once?”

Cyrus opened his cell phone. There was no light.

“Otto, try your phone. See if the light comes on.”

“It’s dead.”

“Something took out all electronics in a single burst,” said Cyrus, his voice low. “Either the island has been nuked or someone hit us with a precise EMP.”

“Our teams don’t have anything like that,” said Otto.

“Then the Americans are on the island. If they used an E-bomb, then they know about the trigger device. Nothing else makes sense.”

There was a distinct note of panic in his voice.

“We have to get out of here,” said Otto in an urgent whisper. He fumbled in the dark until he found Hecate’s arm and gave it a fierce squeeze. “We need to get out of here before they can stop us or we will have lost everything we’ve worked for.”

“I have a ruggedized laptop in my office,” she said. “It can withstand any kind of EMP and it’s in a lead-lined safe along with a portable hard drive with our backup files.”

“But how can we get to your office?” demanded Cyrus. “We’re trapped in here.”

Hecate laughed, a strangely feline sound in the darkness.

“I designed this place, Father. Do you think I would be so careless as to let it be my tomb?”

“Then get us out of here.”

“I need to find the waterfall. The rear panel is false. There’s a door that leads to a service tunnel. Now be quiet and let me get my bearings.”

CONRAD VEDER TOOK the darkness philosophically. He wasn’t frustrated, because he was not emotionally invested in the kill. All it meant was that the change in circumstances required a new plan.

He remembered the process of climbing up to the ledge and climbing back down would be easy enough. But he didn’t move right away. There was no immediate threat to him up here and the lights might come back on.

One of the greatest advantages of having a mind like an insect is that there is no tendency toward impatience.

TONTON DID NOT like the total darkness. It was the only thing that made him feel vulnerable.

He could still smell the woman and if he was careful he could track her. But what if she had night-vision goggles? How was she dressed? Fatigue pants and boots, a black tank top.

Did she have an equipment belt?

He didn’t think so, but he wasn’t sure.

A few seconds passed.

No, he decided. She hadn’t been wearing an equipment belt. On the other hand, she may have had a pack and left it among the foliage. He hadn’t seen her after she’d run into the brush. She might have had time to grab a pack and keep going.

So what did he do?

If he had one of the new recruits he’d have ordered him to stand up and then he’d see if the bitch put a bullet through his head. Tonton was not willing to risk his own head.

Miss Jakoby might have a trick. Tonton reached into his pocket for his cell, but the unit was dead. Not even a glow from the screen. What the hell?

Wracked with indecision, Tonton did nothing.

GRACE COURTLAND DID not fear the darkness. She would have preferred night vision or some useful light, but she didn’t need it. There was too much of the predator in her to be stymied by darkness.

If she couldn’t see, then neither of the men who were hunting her could see, either. And she understood the why of the darkness. Church had dropped the EMP, which meant that she had a little breathing room. But she also had a very specific purpose. There might be a hardened terminal or laptop on the island. She doubted there was one in this chamber, but that meant that she had to prevent Cyrus Jakoby from getting out of the chamber.

Her Special Forces training ran deep. Grace had been one of the very first women accepted into the SAS, and she’d been the first field team operator for Barrier. Church hadn’t recruited her for the DMS because she was decorative. Church wanted her because she was the best of the best. Now was the time to live up to that, and in the absolute darkness Grace smiled.

If anyone had seen that smile-even a killer like Tonton-it would have given him pause.

She moved out of her niche, recounting the steps she’d taken. Her training taught her to remember directions, yards run, right and left turns, elevation. This wasn’t a time for gunplay. She couldn’t see a target, and the muzzle flash from a missed shot would give her position away. The gun went back into her waistband and she practiced drawing the fighting knife from her right-hand pocket several times until she knew that she could have it out and flick the blade into the locked position in under a second.