THE FURY: TRIPLETS
Thirty-nine seconds.
"It is not a bomb," Zane said.
His hands did not stop moving. His eyes were scanning the server architecture, following the logic of the countdown sequence through the rig's control infrastructure.
"It is a scuttle," he said. "The legs are rigged to blow. The whole structure goes underwater in about four minutes once the sequence completes."
"Stop it," Lucian said.
"Working on that."
Twenty-six seconds.
The servers hummed. Zane moved through the system the way he moved through a defensive line, reading the gaps before they opened, committing to the decision a half second before anyone else saw it.