The truck hit Scott with another heat pulse. That stung. It had veered around and was arcing into a dive toward the harbor. He hit the windshield with everything he had; a hairline crack appeared. And then they hit the water at 300 m.p.h. The impact ripped him loose from the cab and did further damage that was going to take a couple repair cycles to deal with. It dropped away into the black depths, still moving with appalling speed, carrying him along with the barest edge of a grip in one of the wheel wells.
    Scott made another phone call.
    "Hello, Mariner Corporation."
    "Hi, it's Scott here."
    "Oh, hi. You still coming over tomorrow?"
    "Actually, if you're not all that busy, I'm being dragged under the ocean by a flying, aquatic semi armed with any number of weapons categories, and I'm probably going to pass out soon, do you think you could try and track this signal?"
    "JT, we need to get the mini-sub out," he called. "Got a little problem."
    Scott decided to try the tire. Maybe it would give him a place to hide....
    The damn things were solid. So much for that idea. He hung on grimly as they went deeper and farther.
    He heard a click, and a rush of air. They had just jettisoned the entire outer layer of the truck, including the tires, leaving Scott behind in the lightless sea, where he began to sink.

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