Free Shadow Ops 3: Breach Zone by Myke Cole Page A

the helm.
    Bookbinder came to stand alongside Bonhomme, looking out the windows over the deck. The engines sent vibrations up through their feet, as the Breakwater began to make way. The ship rolled as it cleared the dock and the current took it. Bookbinder’s stomach rolled with it. He swallowed hard, loosening his knees and tried to let his feet move naturally with the deck, refusing to reach out a hand to steady himself. Black smoke belched from the ship’s smokestack, wafting past the window.
    Ripple rocked easily with the ship’s motion, already used to the pitching deck beneath her boots. ‘How the hell do you do that?’ Bookbinder asked.
    She smiled. ‘Not that hard once you get used to it, sir. My dad used to take me sailing when I was a kid.’
    They shared the smile before Ripple remembered she was his minder and secured hers with an effort. Bookbinder grinned. You know why I did what I did , he almost said out loud. You’re just too damned young and insecure to go against the might of the US Army.
    The sailors on the deck rigged a black oil drum to the crane’s hook. In a humorous nod to the Breakwater ’s main purpose, the words LOVE ME TENDER were painted along the crane’s giant boom. Bookbinder had spent two days Binding the magic of a half dozen SOC Aeromancers and Hydromancers, Ripple among them, into that drum, and he could feel the faintest touch of the magical current even from here.
    ‘So, that’s it, huh?’ Bookbinder asked.
    ‘Yes, sir,’ Bonhomme replied. ‘It’s pretty calm here, but once we get out of the bay, we could get four-to-six-foot seas. Should be enough to test your . . . device.’
    ‘Boomer,’ Bookbinder said. ‘We call it a boomer.’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ Bonhomme said doubtfully. ‘Anyway, provided your tests don’t take too long, we should be tied back up by sunset.’ And then you can be on your way , Bookbinder silently finished for him. ‘What exactly are we doing again, sir?’
    Keeping me out of the public eye. Punishing me for disobeying the president. ‘ Search me. You tell me how rough the seas are. We put that thing in the water. We wait a few minutes. Then you tell me how rough the seas are. I report back. Think you can handle that?’
    Bonhomme looked affectionately over the crane. ‘She’ll pull fifty thousand pounds with the auxiliary. I think she can handle one oil drum, sir.’
    ‘I’m sure she can.’
    ‘How’s it work? You have to switch it on?’
    ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Bookbinder said. The SOC had been clear. The less people outside the program knew about his ability, the better. The truth was that there was no need for an on switch. The boomer held the spells, waiting for an occurrence that required their discharge. He remembered the short stubs of metal he’d Bound with Ripple’s water-purification magic. They’d discharged their power when dropped in fouled water, longer-lasting and more effective than any chemical system he’d ever used.
    There was nothing more to say, so Bookbinder stood quietly as the ship made way through the Lower Bay and out to sea, his nausea increasing with the chop.
    The water seemed an unchanging blue-green expanse before him, until at last he saw the dull tan-green of Sandy Hook begin to crystallize out of the horizon off their starboard bow.
    The bridge was silent as all turned their eyes expectantly southward, and the seas picked up, rocking the large ship less and less gently.
    Bookbinder watched the horizon, trying to keep the line of sky in his field of vision, hoping it would ease the rising sickness. His stomach rolled worse than ever.
    A dull thud sounded from behind them, echoing across the sky. Bookbinder turned, but his view was obscured by the instrument panels and charts that adorned the bridge’s aft bulkhead. He could hear the crew shouting around the crane, rushing to the railings, craning their heads aft and holding their blue-and-white plastic hard hats to their heads.