by Greig Beck
He was a little surprised by the speed and expertise the teams had shown. Frankly, he had fully expected they’d all be in lifeboats by now, as the Russian’s toy boat slowly sank in the Pacific. Oh well, can’t have everything, he mused.
Cain knew that when they got back to port they’d have the marine forensic guys come in and they’d undertake a full examination – they’d find out pretty quick that the valves and alarms had been sabotaged. But by then he’d either be long gone, or even if they did track him down, he’d happily do jail time for standing up for the planet – he’d be a freaking hero.
He smiled dreamily and began to hum along with the music video on the tiny screen, as he lay back on his bunk with one arm behind his head. The knock on his cabin door gave him a start.
Cain sat up quickly. “Hey, I’m not due on shift for another five hours.”
“Captain wants all engineering staff on deck, now.” Cain recognized the voice – Jenson, the sole security guy onboard. And his voice didn’t have an atom of give in it.
“Ahh, it’s not a good time.” Cain licked his lips. “I was just going to—”
“You heard the now bit, right? Be on deck in five minutes. No excuses.” Jenson crossed his arms. “Don’t make me ask twice.”
Fuck you, Cain thought, and flipped the bird to the back of the door. “Yeah, sure, why not?” Cain felt his heart rate kick up a notch. Oh well, just time for some more playacting. You talked yourself into the job, and you managed to pass yourself off as one of them. You’re in the home stretch and this is the last act of the show. He sucked in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The calm smile returned and he froze it onto his face.
“I got this.” He headed for his bunkroom door.
On deck, the twelve maintenance crew, engineers and other engine room staff were all lined up. Cain saw that a line of other upper deck crew and deckhands were just being dismissed and it gave him comfort knowing the entire crew was under scrutiny – it meant they had no idea who was involved.
So the camouflage still held up, he thought. Just be cool. His calm smile stayed in place. The Russian bitch was out in front with the captain and his 2IC. They chatted for a while before she nodded and turned toward the line of men and women.
Her pale eyes moved across each of their faces. She didn’t seem to blink. “The ship was sabotaged … by one of you.”
She left the words hanging and the line of men and woman frowned, mumbled or their mouths dropped open in disbelief. But Cain stayed cool and calm. His smile remained intact.
Sonya Borashev’s eyes moved along them again. She walked toward the first man in line, stopping only a foot in front of him and then held his eyes for a few seconds. Cain strained to hear her questions, but she didn’t say a word, instead stared a moment longer, and then moved to the next person, and then the next. Each man and woman seemed frozen like a deer in headlights as she examined their faces for a moment, and then moved on, working her way down the line toward him.
Cain concentrated on his breathing, but still felt a trickle of perspiration start at his hairline and run down to his temple. When the bitch stepped in front of him, and looked down into his face, he thought they were the most pitiless eyes he had ever seen.
He stared back unwaveringly, and maintained his smile. Her eyes flicked over him, his entire face, and his lips. She stared deep into his eyes, deeper and deeper, and it started to make him feel a little giddy. Those eyes were like an X-ray machine seeing deep inside him.
The woman was spending more time on him than anyone else. He held her gaze, remembering what Olander had told him about the body language of deception – don’t avoid eye contact, don’t look up and to the left, don’t fidget, don’t let your lips or chin quiver.
Cain locked his face in the calm smile, but he felt it was like an invading army at the gates, and the warriors had a battering ram, and were beginning to smash his defenses. Sonya Borashev stepped in even closer to him, so close he could have kissed her. But there was no love in that face, just fury, and her pale eyes were wide and blazing.
“Funny, yes?”
He shook his head. “Shocking actually.”
“Yes, it is.” She stepped back. “You, stay here. Everyone else, back to your stations.”
“What?” He felt his facade slip a fraction as cold fingers of fear tickled his neck.
Captain Levin and the 2IC, Andov, hung back, but Sonya waved them off as well.
“I need privacy. I need to question this man in more detail.”
Levin looked like he wanted to protest, but an intense glare from the woman, and he simply saluted and turned away. In another few seconds, Cain stood alone on the rear deck with Sonya Borashev.
She turned her full attention on him, and her eyes pinned him like a bug. “You sabotaged the ship, you put the crew of this ship at risk, and you put Valery Mironov’s life in danger.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cain shook his head and backed up a step toward the port railing. “You can’t talk to me like that; I know my rights. I think I’ll go back to my cabin now.”
Cain started to turn, but a small black gun appeared in her hand. For now, it hung loosely by her side.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” He pointed a finger at her face, trying to maintain the aura of indignation while, inside his head, alarms were going off. “I’ll report you to the police when we get back.”
Her eyes were the worst as they never blinked and were like a bird of prey’s. “Tell me who else was involved or there will be trouble.”
“You can’t threaten me. I’m an American citizen.”
This time it was the Russian woman’s turn to smile. “Mr. Cain, if that is your real name, you are nothing but a saboteur and a traitor – in fact, a mutineer – and do you know what the penalty for that is when on the high seas?”
The gun was slowly lifted to point at his eye. Cain looked deep into her pale blue eyes, and saw nothing but a deadly resolve. He blinked.
“Olander Blomgren.”
“Of course,” she said softly.
He snorted. “You’ll be in deep shit if I don’t get off this boat.”
Her smile never faltered. “Wrong, according to my records, you never got on.”
She fired.
* * *
Sonya grabbed the body by the front of the shirt and lifted it to stare into the ruined face. One eye was now a ragged, red hole, and the other had already rolled back.
“And see you soon, Captain Blomgren.”
She dragged Cain’s corpse to the railing and shoved it over the side. She watched until it hit the surface. This far out, the water was deep, and to begin with, bodies always sank. They usually came back to the surface in a week when gases built up in their gut, but here, the man’s remains would sink down to the cold depths, and after a few days on the bottom, the crabs and eels would have already started to dismantle it.
She tucked the gun back into the holster at her back and turned to see Captain Levin staring down at her. She held his eyes.
“Let’s go; full speed ahead.” She continued to stare for a moment more, until he saluted and went back inside the bridge room.
The bug in the system had been removed. She’d deal with Blomgren later.
CHAPTER 40
“Big signature, coming up fast.” Jack Monroe
“Oh shit,” Brenner hissed.
Cate hated that tone in his voice.
“A big signature just showed up, eight miles out but very deep. Coming back slowly along the trench.”
“Remain silent, we can make it,” Mironov said.
From the side, Cate saw his silver-haired head tilt back in the huge suit, and look upwards. She followed his gaze, seeing nothing but blackness.
“What is our depth?” Mironov asked.
“Still at 4000 feet. Rate of rise unchanged, but the current is easing,” Brenner replied.
“Coming out of the underwater river,” Jack said.
“It might mean our rate of rise increases as we clear it.”
“Good news at last,” Cate said.
“Very good. Means we’re heading up and also not sideways anymore,” Jack added. “Also might mean that the band of current below us will mask our submersible from anything down deeper.”
“Thank god for that,” Brenner said. “Did you hear that, Mr. Mironov?”
“Indeed I did, and we should be able to pick up the Anastasia soon. We can begin to coordinate our rescue. We’re going to make it.”
“Yes.” Cate agreed, but refused to look down into the dark depths anymore.
“Signature now two miles out, but still staying deep,” Brenner said. “Can we engage some propulsion to speed things up?”
“It’s looking for us. And hasn’t found us,” Jack said. He leaned across to Brenner’s console. “We don’t want to give it any reason to come out of the trench, do we?”
“I know that,” Brenner hissed through clenched teeth. “I get it.”
“Calm down, man. We’ll be fine.” Mironov still stared upwards.
“It’s circling down deep.” Jack narrowed his eyes. “Trying to pick up a scent trail. Hopefully the current will have washed ours away, or at least pushed it miles further in the wrong direction.”
“We just need more time,” Brenner said. “Just a little more time. Please.”
Cate looked at the young man. He was hunched over his console, his eyes wide, and his face pale. He looked about to pass out.
“We’ll be fine,” she said soothingly.
“Not if we don’t make it to the surface in time.” Brenner’s eyes blazed. “After the current, we’ve still got some sideways drift. We need to straighten to at least get close enough to contact the Anastasia. Fuck it, I’m just going to give it a controlled push. You said yourself, the current will mask us.”
“Don’t,” Jack urged.
“Just twenty seconds only.” Brenner pushed the propulsion stick and the small pod engine whined into life.
“Shut that off, now,” Mironov’s voice had an unusual edge.
“Eighteen, nineteen, twenty … shutting off.” Brenner sat back. “Angle of rise corrected.” He nodded. “We’re going straight up now, and faster.” He grinned, out of breath. “It worked.”
Jack had leaned across to the young man’s console again. He cursed as he interpreted the data on the screen. “That’s not the only damn thing that’s changed its angle of rise. Our big signature is now coming up.”
“Oh, no, no, no.” Brenner half rose in his seat. “It’s coming up – what have we done?” He put hands to his head. “It’s fucking coming up!” His last words were near shouted.
Jack reached out and grabbed the man’s forearm. “Calm down, mister.”
Brenner raised his other hand in defense, and Jack’s brows knitted. “What the hell’s wrong with your hand?”
Jack could see that there was a bandage over the hand and wrist, but it was strangely lumpen. It was also moist with some sort of yellow discharge seeping through.
“That’s infected.”
“I bumped it when Williams was going out.” Brenner tried to yank it away, but Jack held on.
“Are you okay?” He stared into Brenner’s eyes, and saw that the pupils were dilated.
“I’m fine. Or will be as soon as I’m outta here. Just let me do my job.” Brenner swore and yanked harder, breaking Jack’s grip. Then he laughed mirthlessly. “You know we can’t even eject? Because we’ve already ejected.” He looked back down, muttering for a moment. “Signature at 18,000 feet and rising at a steady fifty knots. It’ll be here in under an hour.” He grimaced at the depth counter. “And we’re still rising way too slowly.”
“We’ll be at the surface before then,” Mironov said calmly. “Everyone just take it easy, and do their jobs.”
“We might make it to the surface, but how long to pull us out – five minutes, ten minutes, maybe thirty?” Brenner shouted into the comm. system. “Up there, we’ll be sitting ducks.”
Thomas Andrews went and crouched beside him. “Hey, buddy, don’t worry, we’ve still got a few aces up the sleeve left to play. And besides, the Anastasia has a deck gun that’ll punch a hole the size of a dinner plate through solid steel. Make mincemeat outta that big fish.”
“I’m okay, I’m okay. Just a little cabin fever is all.” Brenner chuckled and turned to Andrews. “Nothing a little walk in the sunshine won’t fix.”
“That’s the spirit,” Jack said, but watched him for a moment or two longer. “Hey, why don’t you let me take over there for a while and you take a break? I don’t exactly have much to do, seeing how the piloting stuff is out of our hands.”
“Yeah, sure, I can do with a break. Smoke ’em if you got ’em.” Brenner chuckled again and got to his feet. He went to sit on the floor at the rear of the pod.
Jack slid across, and stared down at the sonar. Cate sat next to him.
“Where is it now?” she whispered.
“Right below us, and coming up fast.” He clicked on the comm. link to the Alvin pod. “Sam, best we prepare for … all eventualities.” Jack sighed. “Seems our explosive decoy has missed the mark.”
“Oh god,” she said. “It’s coming?”
Jack and Cate looked across to the woman. Her eyes were wide, and matched by Andy’s open mouth. Their faces were green-tinged in the glow of their remaining screens. To Cate, they both looked like fearful ghouls.
“I won’t lie to you; yeah, it’s going to be close,” Jack said. “If … when, we surface, it’ll be a rapid evac.”
“You damn well got that right,” Andy said.
Jack turned in his seat to Michael Brenner. The man had his eyes closed, but his lips moved as he mumbled, or perhaps prayed.
“Michael, when are we able to contact the Anastasia?”
“Um …” The young man seemed dazed for a moment, and shook his head to clear it. “Okay, well, if they’ve dropped hydrophones, and I expect they would have, then we should be able to hear them at about 2000 feet.” He grimaced. “But they need to be close, and we don’t know exactly how far that current has shunted us along down here.”
Jack nodded. “Good.” He checked the depth gauge. “At 3200 feet, and climbing. Almost there.”
Cate exhaled, feeling a glimmer of hope. Though they were still coming up out of abyssal levels, after being at the bottom of the trench it felt like they were really going home now … and nearly there.
She put her hand on Jack’s shoulder and squeezed. He reached up to lay a hand over hers. His hand was cold as ice, and she could also feel the tension running through his fingers into hers like a tingle of electricity.
She leaned forward close to his ear. “I love you.”
He looked up, and smiled. “And I you.” He squeezed her hand. “We got this.”
“It could be worse.” She smiled. “We could be out there.” She nodded to the solitary figure clinging to the edge of the Alvin.
Jack blew air through his pressed lips. “That man has balls of steel.”
The sonar screen pinged softly, dragging his eyes back to it. “Damn, it’s right below us now, and coming up fast.”
“So, it’s found us, and is following our trail.” She straightened. “How long now?”
“Half an hour, max,” Brenner said. “And the kicker is, we can’t get out of its way.” He folded and unfolded his arms. “No need to hide now.”
“Hey.” Jack stared for a moment. “Good point.” He flicked on the comm. “Valery, do you read?”
“I’m here,” came the cultured voice with a hint of Russian inflection.
“The Megalodon has found our trail, and is on its way up – from directly below us. I’m not sure we need to remain quiet now; what about we burn some of the pod’s fuel and also use that ADS suit propulsion. Give us a push to the surface?”
“Yes, every second counts now. It won’t be much, but even a few knots will be better than waiting on
buoyancy alone.” Mironov looked to let go of the strut, but seemed to have trouble for a moment.
“Just a little frozen here,” he said.
Jack wasn’t sure if he meant the suit’s titanium glove, or his own fingers within it. Mironov finally released his grip and floated free.
The propulsion jets engaged and he pirouetted in the water. He returned and latched on again. He then angled his body and engaged more of the jets.
Jack looked at his console screen – the rate of rise increased, but only slightly. “It’s working; a little, but better than nothing.”
Cate looked across into the Alvin bubble and saw Sam staring back. She gave Cate a watery smile and held up a hand, fingers crossed. Cate simply nodded, not having any words, as she was worried that her voice might crack if she tried to speak.
The group remained silent, lost in their own thoughts. Cate faced Jack, who sat hunched over the consoles, counting down both the seconds and feet to the surface, and also the inexorable rise of the monster from below.
She clasped her hands together and placed them on her knees, but her legs wouldn’t stay still. Her feet kept dancing and tapping as the nervous energy ran through her like an electrical charge.
“At 2500 feet,” Jack whispered and then cursed softly. “Still nothing topside yet.”
Brenner slid across. “Let’s try and reach out to them anyway.” He pressed his lips together for a moment, and then began to recalibrate the communications.
He placed the small headphones over his head. “Nautilus calling the Anastasia. Come back.”
He waited, his eyes staring, but blind to anything other than his own furious concentration.
“Nautilus contacting the Anastasia, do you read us? Come back.” He moved dials like a safecracker, and tried again. “Contacting the ship Anastasia, or any vessel in the vicinity, we are Nautilus submersible coming up, do you read? Urgent. Come back.”