Page 92 of The SEAL's Duchess
But no one was coming. The certainty settled deeper with each step.
The door to the main deck was closed but unlocked. Ivy shouldered through it, Jack swaying after her, and?—
Nothing.
The deck stretched empty in every direction. Running lights glowed at intervals, illuminating a space that should have held dozens of workers. The offices were dark. The crane sat dormant. Even the flare stack was cold.
Wind howled ferociously across the deck forcing them to keep hold of the railings.
“Bastards evacuated and left us.” Jack swayed, one hand pressed to her ribs as she surveyed their isolation. “They’re all gone.”
“What? How?” Ivy checked all around, sure if she looked hard enough she would see someone. “Don’t they have a muster check?”
Jack shook her head, raising her voice over the storm’s bellow. “Not much of an extra step to falsify paperwork if you’ve already stuffed two people in a storage unit to die.”
Spray blasted over the railing, seawater mixing with sleet, penetrating Ivy’s coat in seconds.
This can’t be happening.
No lights on the horizon.
No Aurora Cove glow in the distance.
Just black water and boiling whitecaps snarling far below.
The rig groaned violently, the noise emanating from everywhere at once.
“Office.” Jack pointed with her chin, too breathless to waste words. “Radio.”
They fought their way across the deck, clinging to railings when gusts tried to tear them away. The office door banged in the wind, hinges shrieking. Inside was marginally better—out of the sleet, at least.
Ivy grabbed the radio mic with numb fingers and pressed the transmit button. “Mayday, mayday, this is Ivy Lambourne on the Deepwater Vega platform. Can anyone hear me? We need immediate evacuation. Two personnel still on site. Please respond.”
She released the button.
Silence. Not even static.
Despite the cold, she was sweating.The radio should hiss, crackle, something?—
She pressed again. “Please?—”
Jack’s hand covered hers, gently pulling the mic away. “Ivy.”
“What? Maybe if I?—”
Jack pointed to the power cable—or what remained of it. The wires were cut so cleanly the copper gleamed.
“Sabotage,” Jack slumped against the desk, wincing. “Someone cut the power. Radio’s dead.”
“Do you think he’s still here?” Ivy glanced at the dark window but saw only her disheveled face. “The man?”
Jack shook her head. “He’s not stupid. Whatever the fuck this is, he’s not planning to go down with the Vega.”
Probably true. But Ivy’s skin crawled anyway, every shadow suddenly suspect.
No one was coming.
The evacuation had already happened.
