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  Another wave crested, and again both men entered the tube. Xiang banked up the wall with Xander following. This time Xiang had a different trick up his sleeve, though. He drew his bike’s flare gun and shot at Xander’s vehicle. The green flare tracked through the tube of the wave, reflecting off the water. The flare lodged in Xander’s front tank with a fwump! It sparked and burned, and then the tank exploded. Xander leaped forward at the same time, and the force of the explosion sent him flying toward Xiang. Grabbing the back of Xiang’s bike, Xander put down his feet and surfed the surface of the water.

  “You crazy sonofabitch!” Xiang shouted, half in fury, half in admiration.

  Xander pushed himself forward and grabbed for the satchel when suddenly a giant wave washed over them, sending them both under.

  Water roared in Xander’s ears, and the clashing currents spun him around as if he were a rag doll, but he didn’t panic. Death wasn’t an enemy; it was a friend. It urged you to keep moving, never stop, never give up until the very last tick of the clock and the buzzer sounded. Until that instant—and only then—the game wasn’t over. And as long as the game was still on, Xander intended to play it as hard as he could. Maybe it wasn’t a game you could win, but it sure as hell was one you could lose, and he hated losing.

  Xander opened his eyes. He didn’t see Xiang, but he did see the satchel, tumbling in the current, just like him. He kicked hard through the undertow, and reached for the satchel, hand outstretched, straining to reach it. He hadn’t had time to do more than take a fast gulp of air before the wave hit, and now his oxygen was almost used up and his lungs burned. He ignored the sensation and kept swimming toward the satchel, reaching, reaching… He felt lightheaded and blackness nibbled at the edges of his vision, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer. Still, he swam, still he reached. Almost there…

  * * *

  Xander walked onto the beach. He pulled off his wet shirt, then removed Pandora’s Box from the satchel and tossed the bag aside. He was tired and sore, but then he saw Serena waiting, aiming her gun at him. He froze for a moment, but then stared her down.

  He held up Pandora’s Box for her to see. “I never come up short,” he said.

  Serena didn’t smile at his joke.

  “Like I said, power like that doesn’t belong in anyone’s hands.”

  Xander held the device out to her. “If you want it, come take it from me.”

  Serena fired. Xander didn’t flinch as the bullet tore Pandora’s Box from his grip and sent it tumbling to the sand. Serena fired at the device two more times, destroying it.

  Xander grinned. If he’d been in Serena’s place, he would’ve done the exact same thing.

  “Oh come on,” he said, “was that really necessary?”

  Serena looked at him, her expression dead serious. “I’m Triple-X, too, and it’s what Gibbons would have wanted.”

  She dropped the Glock in the sand, turned, and walked away.

  “I’m doing this for Gibbons!” Xander said. He watched Serena go, emotions mixed. A few seconds later, Adele, Nicks, and Tennyson came running along the beach toward him.

  “Nice of you guys to show up,” Xander said.

  “Do you have any idea what just happened?” Adele said. Her face was ashen, her voice shaky. Something was seriously wrong.

  Serena heard Adele’s words, and she turned around, curious.

  “No,” Xander said. “What happened?”

  “Another satellite just fell,” Adele said. “This one on Moscow.”

  Xander looked at the shattered remains of Pandora’s Box lying on the sand. What the actual fuck was going on here?

  7

  GLOBEMASTER CARGO BAY

  Xander and his team were gathered around a monitor, while Becky stood at a table, working on the remains of Pandora’s Box. Nicks sat on the floor, his back propped against one of the table legs, drowsing. Marke was present, as was Serena, who stood close to Xander, but not too close.

  The monitor displayed an image of Luzhniki Stadium, one of the largest and most beautiful sports arenas in the world. Originally built in 1956, it was an Olympic venue in 1980, and many famous singers and entertainers had performed for millions there. The stadium had since been renovated to make it more modern, and it was one of Moscow’s premiere attractions.

  As the footage rolled, something flashed out of the sky and slammed into the stadium. The impact was devastating, and within seconds nothing remained of the Luzhniki but fire and rubble. The screen froze on the image of absolute destruction, and a long, somber silence followed until Tennyson finally broke it.

  “Guess this means Pandora’s Box isn’t exactly classified anymore,” he said.

  “The next video footage was broadcast worldwide after the destruction of the stadium,” Marke said. She aimed a remote at the screen, and the ruins of the Luzhniki were replaced by a wall of old televisions. Each TV screen displayed a different program, all from the 50s, 60s, or 70s. Variety programs, news broadcasts, police and medical dramas, Saturday morning cartoons, soap operas, political speeches, talk shows, commercials… The audio was spliced together from the footage to “speak” with a single message.

  “I’m old enough to remember how things used to be. I remember walking down the street and not being spied on. I remember talking on the telephone and not wondering who was listening on the other line. I remember a world where we trusted our government, and where our lives were our own. Disable and dismantle all the world’s spy programs within the next twenty-four hours or I’ll do it for you, one satellite at a time. Save the world with your humility or destroy it with your hubris.”

  The screen went dark then, and Adele turned to Serena.

  “Tell me, was this all part of your mission, too?” she asked, voice tight with anger.

  “Of course not,” Serena said coolly. “Xiang, Hawk, Talon, and I were a new Triple-X team Gibbons created to fight the enemy within, to watch the watchers. We discovered a high-level intelligence officer who was trying to manipulate satellites, but before we could unmask him—” she glanced at Marke “—Gibbons was killed.”

  “By somebody on the inside.” Xander turned to Marke. “You lied to me. And in a church, no less.”

  “I needed you to retain a sense of objectivity,” Marke said.

  “I don’t understand,” Serena said. “I destroyed Pandora’s Box, so how did another satellite fall on Moscow?”

  Becky joined the rest of them then, and held up the remains of Pandora’s Box.

  “If I’m right—and I totally am—this box only ever had the ability to control one satellite,” she said.

  Tennyson frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Xander knew. “It means we’ve been chasing a prototype.”

  “Exactly,” Becky said, “and that’s not a good thing.”

  “So what do we do?” Tennyson asked.

  Xander yawned. “We take a dirt dive.”

  Marke frowned. “Dirt dive?”

  Xander started for the stairs. There were bunks on the upper level, they sounded damn inviting to him right now. He responded to Marke without turning to face her.

  “Right now there’s nothing I can do, so I’m going to grab some Z’s, and I suggest the rest of you do the same. We’ve got a hell of a lot of work ahead of us, and we need our beauty sleep if we’re going to save the world.”

  “Some of us need it more than others,” Adele muttered.

  Xander was too tired to tell her to go to hell. He started up the stairs, his eyes already starting to droop. He hoped the world’s satellites would stay in their orbits while he slept. It would be nice to wake up and not have to look at images of more craters in the ground where buildings—and far more importantly, people—used to be.

  * * *

  Xiang and Hawk watched from the roof of a building close to the Manila Airfield as the Globemaster rose into the sky.

  “Serena played us for fools, betrayed us,” Hawk said, his voice bitter. “We
should have seen it coming.”

  Xiang understood how Hawk felt, but he also understood Serena’s point of view. He didn’t share it, of course, but he knew she acted based on what she believed was right, and he could respect that.

  “This isn’t about Serena,” Xiang said. “This is war. And we either stop it or watch the world burn tomorrow. Can’t lose focus on that, alright?”

  “Yeah,” Hawk said. He didn’t sound completely convinced, though.

  Talon came up onto the rooftop then and joined them. The Globemaster had dwindled into the distance, and Xiang knew the craft wouldn’t be visible much longer. Hawk turned to Talon and snapped at him, likely taking out some of his anger at Serena on the man.

  “Where you been? Stop off for a rub-and-tug?”

  Talon smiled as he replied. “That reminds me, your mom says hi.”

  “Get over here and stop jerking around,” Xiang said. “Tracker on board? Nobody saw you?”

  “Nobody ever sees me, boss,” Talon said.

  Excellent, Xiang thought. Now wherever Marke took Xander and the others, they would be able to follow.

  “Now what?” Hawk said.

  “We finish what we started,” Xiang said. “But first, let’s get something to eat. But no Chinese food, especially from those restaurants. Too much MSG.”

  Hawk rolled his eyes. “As if that’s what’ll kill us.”

  * * *

  After a couple hours of sleep, Xander and the others gathered in the Globemaster’s Command Center. Xander felt sharp once more and ready to get back to work. Becky sat at a console, controlling the images on a monitor, and everyone watched as she displayed security footage from the New York theft. Donovan—one of the NSA monkeys Xander had dropped over Europe—was there too, shooting Xander dark looks periodically. Everyone watched Xiang crash through the window and tackle Marke. Becky then replayed the clip, running it in slow motion.

  Xander frowned as he thought. “How often do these seven men all sit in the same room together?”

  “Almost never,” Marke said.

  Xander continued. “And if you needed retinal scans, cell-phone data dumps, and bio-metrics of all the super-powers in the world, who would you target?”

  “Oh, shit,” Marke said.

  “Call me crazy,” Adele said, “but I personally would hand-select all seven of those spymasters and get them around a big giant table for a meeting. But then that’s impossible, right?”

  “You gotta give this player—whoever he is—props,” Nicks said. “I mean, he scammed the smartest dudes in the world. Real heist movie kinda shit.”

  “True,” Xander said, “but I think the real question is who’s got the kind of power to set all this in motion?”

  Xander turned to face Marke and gave her a pointed look.

  “Oh, you are pissing up the wrong tree, Cage,” she said. “I came looking for you, remember?”

  Donovan stepped between Xander and Marke and grabbed hold of Xander’s arm. “We gonna have problems, asshole?”

  Xander grinned. “Look, everyone! It’s Peter Pan! Did you enjoy your flight, Donovan?” Then he grew serious. “No, no problem. I’m just doin’ the math.”

  Donovan scowled. “What math?”

  “Air velocity divided by distance,” Xander said. He took hold of Donovan’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his arm. “Because if you touch me again, I’m gonna throw you a beatin’ and then shove you down the toilet so far that Search and Rescue is gonna have to look for you in China.”

  Donovan stepped forward a couple inches until their noses were almost touching. “Keep talking, punk.”

  Xander was ready to kick the man’s ass on general principle, but Becky was running the security footage again, and this time he noticed something he hadn’t before.

  “Hold that thought, G.I. Joe.” Xander pushed past Donovan and stepped closer to the monitor. “Run it one more time, Becky.”

  She did so, and Xander saw it again. “Okay, freeze it there.” He turned to Marke. “Okay, you’re off the hook, Suit. You didn’t do it.”

  “Why thank you,” she said. “So who did?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Xander said.

  She crossed her arms and gave him a look that said her patience was wearing thin. “Enlighten me.”

  “The man who hosted the party,” Xander said. He turned to Becky. “Scroll back a little. More… Stop.”

  The image displayed on the monitor was a freeze-frame shot of Xiang crashing through the conference room window. Xander picked up a black marker from a nearby workstation and circled the CIA director.

  “He’s the only one of the seven men who didn’t flinch when Xiang busted through the window,” Xander said.

  Everyone leaned in for a closer look. It was a small detail, but now that Xander had pointed it out, it was obvious. Even Donovan looked impressed—a little, anyway. Though it didn’t stop Becky freaking out over the damage to her monitor.

  Marke immediately took out her phone and placed a call.

  “I need the President on the phone ASAP. I want the joint chiefs and the executive directorate. We have a snake in the house.”

  “Oh, now you all start paying attention,” Tennyson said, exasperated. “I’ve been saying the director of the CIA has been trying to destroy the world for years!”

  Marke finished her call and disconnected.

  “We have carte blanche to track this motherfucker down,” she said. “Does anybody know how to do that?”

  “The same way Xiang and I found the prototype in New York,” Serena said. “Pandora’s Box needs to keep reconnecting itself because the satellites orbit.” Serena stepped to the console Becky had vacated and began typing commands. “All we need to do is track down the main signal.”

  A map appeared on the monitor, showing the general location of the Director and Pandora’s Box.

  Adele frowned. “So he’s got the whole world to lay low in and this fruit loop chooses Detroit?”

  “It wouldn’t be my first choice,” Becky said, “but then I’m not a sociopath.”

  Xander’s expression darkened as he looked at the map. Serena rose from the console, stepped to his side, and put a hand on his arm. “Is something wrong?” she asked softly.

  “Been a long time since I’ve been in Detroit,” he said, and left it at that. But in his mind, he pictured a dead thirteen-year-old boy lying in the street.

  “Triple-X,” Marke said, “are you ready to take it to the next level?”

  Xander smiled grimly. “Am I ready? Hell, I was born ready.”

  DOWNTOWN DETROIT

  The city had undergone quite a few changes since Xander had last been here, but Detroit still had its problems. Even if the city still had a lot of work to do, Xander was encouraged by the improvements. He wondered if Gibbons had ever returned to the city to see how much it had changed. He hoped so.

  * * *

  A battered yellow van pulled up to the curb in front of a rundown building next to an electrical substation. Tennyson parked and he, Adele, Becky, and Nicks climbed out and began unloading their gear.

  “Do I want to know where you got these wheels?” Nicks asked.

  “No, you don’t,” Tennyson said.

  They carried their equipment into the building, which served as an NSA safehouse, and headed for a room in the back. Becky had never been in a place even remotely like this. It smelled like someone with assholes in their armpits had lived here, and she was afraid to breathe too deeply, let alone actually touch anything.

  Tennyson and Nicks talked as everyone continued walking further into the building.

  “When I crashed the boat up on shore and saved your life—” Tennyson began.

  “Yeah, whatever, bro,” Nicks said.

  “—do you think that counts as crash one ninety-nine for me? You know, officially?”

  Nicks rolled his eyes. “Officially, you’re deranged.”

  The door to the backroom was locked and refuse
d to budge. Tennyson put the equipment he was carrying down on the floor, made a fist, drew back his arm, and punched the door open. He then stepped aside and gestured for the others to enter.

  “Nice job, big guy,” Adele said as she walked past him. The others followed, with Tennyson bringing up the rear.

  The room smelled marginally better than the rest of the building, Becky thought. There was a chance she’d only catch two or three fatal diseases in here instead of several dozen. The room had some simple furniture in it—a table, chairs, and a couch that had seen better days. Hell, better decades. But there were large plastic-covered objects lined against the wall. They put their equipment down and removed the covers to reveal a number of badass, teched-out Triple-X toys. Becky couldn’t wait to get her hands on these goodies and start going to town.

  Nicks went to the window to open the blinds, but when he pulled on the string, the entire thing came off and crashed to the floor.

  “Nicks…” Adele said.

  “I can fix it,” Nicks said.

  Normally, Becky might’ve laughed at Nicks’s expression, but despite her excitement at seeing all this awesome tech, she couldn’t escape the feeling that she was making a massive mistake. She stepped to Adele’s side and spoke to the woman in a hushed voice.

  “I really should not be here. I am not a field agent. I mean, I understand you guys need someone on the ground, but come on, what do I do if somebody starts shooting at me?”

  Adele gave her a measured look before answering.

  “Duck,” she said.

  Adele then turned away to continue assembling her equipment, leaving Becky standing alone.