Jonas slowed our approach, in order to sort through the chaos. On our right was the Tonga, its towering superstructure surreally swaying east to west and back again like a giant steel buoy. On our left was the trawler—at least what was left of it. The vessel had been flipped completely over, its barnacle-encrusted keel now an island of survival for its crew, who were hanging on for dear life, the inverted boat dropping and rising beneath them.

Ahead of us was the center of the maelstrom.

One hundred sixty million years ago, Liopleurodon had ruled the ocean as a carnivorous marine reptile, all except for the subspecies that had evolved gills to inhabit the Panthalassa Sea. Caught in the net, the creature before us couldn’t swim. And if it couldn’t swim, it couldn’t breathe.

By swaying the two ships, the monster managed to channel just enough water into its mouth to keep from drowning. It had flipped the Dubai-Land, but the steel cables connecting the trawler to the net had remained in place, keeping the trap sealed.

“Zach, where’s David’s sub?”

“There… by the trawler’s bow. Those crewmen are using it as a flotation device.”

The water was a frigid thirty-three degrees Fahrenheit. The paralyzing temperatures had already claimed at least a dozen lives. I was about to radio Mac to send the hopper-dredge when we heard the unmistakable snap of steel.

It was the last cable connecting the trawler to the net.

The Liopleurodon felt its bonds loosen. With renewed vigor, the trapped beast began to worm itself free.

“Zach, it’s getting free!”

“Kill it.”

“How?”

“Use the Valkyries. Aim for its neck.”

Jonas dove the sub to avoid a swirl of lifeless bodies, moving us steadily toward the opening net, the lasers heating up. The inverted trawler appeared on our left, along with David’s Manta. The disabled vessel bobbed upright along the surface, surrounded by seven pairs of kicking legs.

Jonas would not allow the creature to escape.

“Its head is free. Here it comes!”

The monster lurched forward, catching its left hind flipper in the net.

That was all Jonas needed.

I ducked as the Manta’s bow forcibly struck the Liopleurodon just above its chest cavity, the twin lasers burning matching holes three feet deep into the creature’s flesh. Blood spurted across our cockpit glass as the insane beast flung us to and fro until we were tossed free.

Mortally wounded, the animal propelled itself away in obvious pain.

The hopper-dredge arrived ten minutes later. Jonas maneuvered the sub into its berth, impatiently waiting for the chamber to drain and pressurize before he could open the cockpit and make his way up five flights of stairs to board a waiting lifeboat.

Waiting inside the craft were Mac and the ship’s physician.