THE MID-OCEAN HEIST OF THE BRICK-WALL TODDLER WHO CONTROLLED THE GLOBAL SYNDICATE

The crushing weight of the black Atlantic water slammed into Evelyn like a physical wall, tearing her flashlight from her grip and spinning her through the flooded corridor in a disorienting blur of foam, rusted metal, and floating debris. Her navy blue cap was ripped from her head, swallowed instantly by the roaring vortex. Choking on salt water, she kicked upward with her heavy boots, her hands clawing desperately against the slippery steel bulkhead until her fingers found the rim of an open service hatch.

She hauled herself through the opening just as a massive secondary bulkhead slammed shut below her with a sound like rolling thunder.

Coughing violently and gasping for oxygen, Evelyn collapsed onto the wet diamond-plate steel floor of the sub-deck. The emergency lighting down here wasn't red; it was a sickly, blinking amber that illuminated a vast, cathedral-like chamber filled with humming server racks and massive hydraulic pistons.

"Julian!" Evelyn yelled, her voice echoing off the curved iron walls. "Julian, answer me!"

"Over here!" a strained voice coughed from the shadows near a massive turbine housing.

Evelyn scrambled across the slick floor, finding Julian pinned beneath a heavy plastic shipping crate that had broken loose during the flood. She threw her shoulder against the crate, using every ounce of her remaining adrenaline to shove it aside. Julian rolled out, clutching his shoulder and spitting up water, his white captain's jacket shredded and soaked through.

"Where... where are the others?" Julian wheezed, looking around the cavernous sub-deck with wild eyes.

"They didn't make the hatch," Evelyn said grimly, helping him to his feet. She scanned the room, her hand instinctively dropping to her empty holster. Her service weapon had been lost in the vortex. "And we aren't alone down here."

From the shadows near the central server core came the steady, rhythmic click-clack of polished leather loafers against metal grating.

Stepping out from behind a humming mainframe was Leo. He looked as immaculate as he had in the VIP lounge. His maroon velvet blazer was completely dry, his black silk bow tie was neatly knotted, his oversized designer sunglasses reflected the blinking amber lights, and his platinum wristwatch ticked with steady precision. Cradled in his arms was a silver tray holding a fresh, untouched chocolate sundae.

"You swim rather poorly for a federal officer, Evelyn," Leo rumbled, his deep, baritone voice echoing through the massive engine chamber. "Efficiency requires proper form, even in desperation."

Julian staggered backward, holding up a bloodied hand. "You... you timed the bulkhead closure. You drowned the officers just to clear the path!"

Leo paused, lifting a small silver spoon and scooping a dollop of dark chocolate ice cream. "I streamlined the personnel roster," Leo corrected smoothly. "Bureaucracy is a terrible passenger on a sinking ship."

Evelyn lunged forward, closing the distance between them in three furious strides, and grabbed Leo by the collar of his maroon velvet blazer, lifting him off his feet. "This ends right now! Where is the manual override for the ship's bilge pumps? Give me the codes or I swear I'll throw you into the turbine intake!"

Leo didn't struggle. He simply dangled in her grip, calmly chewing his chocolate ice cream. Behind his dark sunglasses, his invisible eyes stared right through her.

"You're threatening a corporate officer with workplace violence, Lieutenant," Leo said, his tone utterly devoid of fear. "A very poor career move. Especially since the ship isn't sinking."

Evelyn froze, her knuckles whitening on his collar. "What are you talking about? We're a thousand feet underwater!"

Leo raised his platinum wristwatch and tapped the glass twice. The entire cavernous sub-deck suddenly shuddered, and the roaring sound of rushing water cut out instantly. The amber lights flickered, turned a crisp, bright institutional white, and the heavy metal walls around them began to retract with a pneumatic hiss.

Through the clearing steam, Evelyn and Julian saw something that made their blood run cold. They weren't in a sinking cruise ship at all. The curved iron walls were rolling back to reveal a massive, ultra-modern subterranean command center buried deep beneath the Antarctic ice shelf.