Si vous descendez ici, les capteurs déclencheront les charges de démolition !
Emma a répliqué en criant.
Elle ferma les yeux, se souvenant du rictus arrogant de Victoria Sterling, du calcul froid d’Evelyn et des visages innocents des millions de gens ordinaires qui dormaient paisiblement à l’horizon, à quelques kilomètres de là.
Chapitre 75 – Le courant inverse
Toute la chambre souterraine trembla comme si elle était frappée par un tremblement de terre.
Deep within the foundations of the pier, massive, submerged cast-iron gates groaned open.
The sound was not mechanical; it was a primordial roar as millions of tons of water rushed into the newly opened vacuum.
The water around Emma’s waist instantly turned into a raging torrent.
The suction pulled violently at her clothes, threatening to drag her down into the gaping maw of the intake turbines.
She dropped the flashlight, grabbing the iron handrail with both hands as her feet were swept out from under her.
“Emma!”
Vincent’s voice roared through the headset.
“The gates are open!” she shouted, spitting brackish water from her mouth.
“The current is reversing!”
On the surface above, the black freighter’s massive discharge pipe belched a dense, oily cloud of dark chemical effluent into the channel.
But instead of sweeping inward toward the city’s water treatment plants, the massive hydraulic vortex created by the lower turbine seized the toxic wave.
The water spun violently, reversing course, dragging the toxic slick out toward the deep deep-water retention basin three miles offshore where environmental barricades were already snapping into place.
Evelyn Sterling, watching from the edge of the pier, fell to her knees in the rain.
“No… no, no, no!
It was foolproof!
The algorithm calculated every hydro-dynamic vector!”
“You forgot that this city was built before algorithms, Evelyn,” Clara Vance said coldly, standing over her with absolute composure.
Down in the dark, Emma was losing her grip.
The freezing water was rising toward her neck, and the suction was relentless, tearing at her shoulders, numbing her fingers until she could no longer feel the cold iron rail.
Her hand slipped an inch.
“I can’t hold on!” she gasped into the microphone.
Suddenly, a heavy splash resonated through the drowning chamber.
A dark figure plunged through the deluge, cutting through the swirling current with powerful, desperate strokes.
Before Emma’s fingers lost their final grip on the rail, a strong, iron-hard hand locked around her wrist.
Vincent.
Chapter 76 – The Shattered Citadel
With a deafening groan of concrete under immense hydraulic pressure, the upper ceiling of the turbine chamber gave way.
Light poured down from above as Mateo dropped a heavy-duty winch cable into the opening.
Vincent clipped Emma onto the harness first, signaling upward with two sharp tugs.
“Take her up!
Now!”
Vincent yelled over the thunder of collapsing masonry.
Emma was hauled into the rain-swept night, gasping for air as Mateo and two operatives pulled her onto the solid concrete apron of the pier.
Seconds later, Vincent hauled himself over the ledge just as the entire lower chamber collapsed inward behind them, swallowed by a massive geyser of foaming lake water.
The freighter in the distance was dead in the water.
United States Coast Guard cutters and federal tactical gunboats were now swarming its perimeter, their blue and red strobes painting the churning waves in brilliant crimson and sapphire.
Le vaisseau amiral du syndicat était complètement isolé.
Emma était étendue sur le sol humide, tremblant violemment d’hypothermie, mais elle était vivante.
Vincent s’est laissé tomber à côté d’elle, a enlevé sa lourde veste tactique et l’a enroulée étroitement autour de ses épaules frissonnantes.
Ses cheveux noirs étaient plaqués sur son front, son visage strié de suie et d’eau, mais ses yeux avaient une intensité qui lui coupa le souffle.
« Tu l’as fait », murmura-t-il en posant doucement sa main sur sa nuque glacée.
« Tu as sauvé cette ville, Emma. »
« Oui », murmura-t-elle en retour, esquissant un faible sourire épuisé.
De l’autre côté du quai, Evelyn Sterling était tirée sur ses pieds par des agents fédéraux, menottée dans de lourdes menottes flexibles en titane.
Sa robe de créateur était en lambeaux, son empire réduit en poussière.
Tandis qu’ils racontaient son passé, elle lançait à Emma un regard haineux et venimeux.
« Tu crois avoir gagné ? »
Evelyn siffla, la voix brisée et hystérique.
« Tu crois que ça s’arrête avec moi ? »
Les Sterlings n’étaient que la coque extérieure !
Le Conseil des régents — les véritables architectes — ne vous laissera pas vivre assez longtemps pour voir l’aube !
« Le conseil des régents a déjà été dissous, Evelyn », dit Clara Vance en s’avançant lentement.
