The serrated plastic edge bit deeper into the leather of Lin Mei’s boot.
Cold Atlantic salt water washed over her knees, but the ribbon of extruded polyester burned like hot wire. It was dragging her an inch at a time across the wet grating, straight toward the cherry-red bulge in the riser pipe.
“Mei!” Dr. Victor Corvo shouted. He threw his weight against his porcelain hook, trying to wedge the shaft beneath the tightening coil.
“Kick free! Do not let it take your heel!”
“I can’t kick free!” Lin Mei gasped. Her fingers slipped on the greasy diamond plate.
“The tensile load is over four hundred pounds! It’s pulling from the hydraulic center!”
Across the roaring pipe, Mac Cole was arched backward, his teeth bared in an ugly grimace.
The clear ribbon wrapped around Mac’s waist was smoking where it dragged against his oilskin coat. Another coil was biting into his brass prosthetic wrist, screeching as the metal gears strained. Yet his callused right hand and his brass pincer stayed clamped on Key B.
