THE FURY: TRIPLETS
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.
Fifteen seconds.
"There," Zane said.
His fingers hit three commands in fast sequence.
The countdown stopped at two seconds.
The number sat on the screen, frozen, while Zane exhaled through his nose and rolled his neck once.
Then the first deep explosion hit from below.
Not the terminal. The rig itself. A concussive boom from somewhere beneath the waterline that rolled through the metal floor and into the soles of my feet like a physical warning.
"It already started," Sloane said.