LI planned this assault carefully. Their movements were synchronized. They made as flashy an entrance as they could on our starboard side. Why would they botch it? Unless…

“Gem!” I call.

He doesn’t seem to hear me. Between the gunfire, the ship’s engines, and the residual ringing from the flash-bangs, I’m not surprised. It’s enough noise to cover up almost anything. All three Sharks have eyes forward, keeping me behind them and facing the obvious threat.

Think like a Dolphin, I tell myself. Espionage, not frontal assault.

A thousand tiny crabs scuttle down my back. It’s a feint.

“GEM!” I yell again.

I start to turn, to check the port side of the boat, but I’m too slow. Maybe I’m still in shock from grief, or maybe I’m dazed from the grenades. I’ve only made it ninety degrees when someone behind me locks his forearm across my throat. I feel a sharp pain like a wasp sting in the side of my neck.

Terror washes through my veins along with whatever they’ve injected me with. The Leyden gun slips from my numb fingers.

I’ve been trained in a dozen ways to get out of a chokehold, but my knees turn to putty. My arms hang uselessly at my side. I can’t feel anything except the panic building in my chest. Off the port side of the Varuna, I can now see the pontoon my captor came in on. Another LI commando mans the outboard motor.

The Sharks are shouting now. At least I got their attention. Dru and Gem flank my captor, their guns raised. Kiya reaches the port rail first, notices the pontoon, and immediately shoots at the guy on board. She hits the motor instead. The guy fires back, and Kiya collapses in a shimmering Tesla cage.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” my captor roars. “Or Ana Dakkar dies!”

He twists so his back is to the rail and I’m between him and the Sharks. He knows my name. Of course…I was the target all along. I don’t understand the motive, but this whole attack has been about capturing me.

Gem and Dru keep their Leyden guns trained on us. On the starboard side of the deck, the last LI commando goes down when Tia Romero smashes him in the groin with a fire extinguisher.

I lock eyes with Gemini Twain. I try to say Just shoot us both, but my voice won’t work.

“I wouldn’t,” my captor warns Gem. “Maybe you didn’t notice the needle I’ve got at your friend’s neck. Nasty what you can make from sea-snake venom. She’ll survive, unless you freshmen get stupid with those Leyden guns. Shock me, you shock her. That really wouldn’t be good for her nervous system right now.”

Slowly, Gem sets down his Leyden gun. Then, just as slowly, he draws his twin SIG Sauers. “How about I shoot you in the mouth instead?” he suggests—calm and polite, as if he’s offering our guest a moist towelette. “Unless your face is bulletproof, too.”