by Tom Grace
‘You’re right. One or both of them might still be able to cause us some trouble. Can you hang on here with Andrei?’ he asked Stone.
‘I think so—I’ve still got one good arm.’
Kilkenny left Stone by the hull and began treading water. ‘I’m going to take a look around and see if anyone from Parnell’s boat survived. Holler if you guys see any trouble.’
Kilkenny glided away from his comrades, propelling himself silently beneath the water with only his head above the choppy surface. Steam and exhaust poured out of Spitfire‘s engine compartment. The boat’s propeller finally sputtered to a stop as the engine choked on river water. Rounding the stern, Kilkenny discovered a widespread field of flotsam littering the surface.
About five meters away, he found someone struggling in the water. Kilkenny fought off the vindictive urge to let one of the conspirators drown; instead, he moved in to help. Kilkenny recognized Roe in the brief instant that her face was above the water. She was lashed to a captain’s chair and the seat’s foam cushions were buoyant enough that they held her facedown in the water. Kilkenny’s muscled forearm wrapped around the chest of the frantically choking woman and pulled her head out of the water.
‘I’ve got you,’ Kilkenny reassured her. ‘You’re going to be fine. Just relax and I’ll take care of everything.’ Kilkenny pulled her through the water and Roe calmed down once she stopped choking and caught her breath. ‘By the way, I’m Nolan Kilkenny.’
‘Kilkenny!’ Roe’s eyes grew wide when she repeated the name. ‘I thought you were in jail!’
‘A simple misunderstanding that a Russian friend of yours claims you can explain.’
Looking at the wreckage, Roe wondered how her mentor had fared in the violent exchange. ‘Is Andrei all right?’
‘Yeah, he’s a tough old guy.’ Kilkenny pulled Roe back to where the others clung to Spitfire‘s hull.
A fatherly smile came to Yakushev when he recognized the person in Kilkenny’s grasp. ‘Anya, are you hurt?’
‘I’m fine,Andrei, just a bit handicapped by these ropes.’
‘I’ll get those off as soon as I can get a few more hands on you,’ Kilkenny promised. ‘Andrei, take hold of her for a minute.’
Yakushev grasped the chair with his free arm, struggling to keep Roe from flipping facedown into the river. Kilkenny let go and treaded water while untying the knotted ropes.
‘Nolan, did you see anyone else over there?’ Stone asked.
‘No.’
‘Kang, Parnell, and I were the only ones left,’ Roe offered.
‘Well, it looks like you’re the lucky one,’ Kilkenny replied. ‘I’m surprised that any of us survived that crash.’
The pilot of the police helicopter Eagle witnessed the collision in horror from above the river. He had maintained a safe distance from the speeding boats earlier to avoid drawing any gunfire; now he held his distance for fear of swamping the survivors before help arrived. He hovered as close as he dared and counted four figures in the water, clinging to an overturned hull. One of the survivors waved to him. It appeared that they were all right.
60
Kang had dived deep after striking the water and his effort paid off when the rest of Parnell’s boat landed where he’d just been. He opened his eyes only for a moment, but the brownish murk in the Thames diminished underwater visibility to nothing. He stayed under as long as he could, holding his breath as the distorted sounds of twisting wreckage and rumbling engines filled his ears. After what seemed like hours, he moved toward the surface, hands forward as he rose blindly in the water.
He broke the surface with a stale gasp of air bursting from his lungs. Kang hyperventilated for several minutes before his breathing returned to normal. He opened his eyes, to find that he was not out in the open water, but in the large air pocket formed by the capsized hull of Spitfire. He was also alone. The question in his mind about other survivors was quickly answered by the thumping sounds he heard outside of the hull. Moving closer, he could hear muffled voices on the other side.
He’d held on to his weapon through the crash and his first impulse was to use it; none of the other survivors were of any particular use to him now. Clearer thinking caused him to reconsider this hasty course of action and he began to work on his more important need to escape. Kang knew that the British patrol ships would be closing in on the wreckage soon, and the reverberating thumping he heard echoing off the overturned hull was the sound of a helicopter hovering over the crash.
Kang swam over to the opening that led to Spitfire’s bow cabin. He braced himself in the hatchway, where he could rest and save some of the energy he was now using to tread water. Once comfortably set, he pulled his hands out of the water to inspect his weapon. Until it had dried and was cleaned, it was useless. Kang holstered the weapon and began looking for other tools that he might find useful in evading capture.
The bow cabin was partially submerged and littered with foam bunk mattresses and other items that had tumbled loose when the boat capsized. Light filtered through the cracks in the broken hull, illuminating the tapered space. The ship’s smooth hull retained its graceful lines until Kang’s eyes reached the port side, where Merlin had landed its fatal blow. There, the hull was driven in and shattered. The strong odor of fuel also permeated the air around him.
Kang began rummaging through the items floating in the grimy water and found a large black waterproof bag held partially afloat by the air trapped inside. The bag felt heavy as Kang pulled it toward him, weighted down by its contents. Positioning the bag to prevent its contents from spilling out and falling to the deep river bottom, Kang opened it and found the boat owner’s scuba gear.
Kang could scarcely believe his good fortune. Fate had provided him with the means of escape. He opened the valve on the tank; the pressure gauges jumped as the compressed-air mixture filled the lines. The tanks were nearly full, more than enough to see him safely to shore. If he paddled leisurely, the river would carry him far downstream from the accident and out of the immediate search area.
The chill of the river made him shiver as he looked through the dive bag. The owner’s fins, mask, and wet suit were all there. Kang stripped down to his underwear and placed the rest of his clothing in a plunge bag used for collecting artifacts from the sea. The brightly colored wet suit was loose-fitting on Kang’s lean frame; it obviously belonged to a man of substantial size. Still, the wet suit didn’t bind or restrict his movement, and it would insulate him from the cold of an extended river swim.
Kang suited up quickly, not knowing how much longer he had before the patrol boats arrived. He strapped on the tank and checked the regulator, blowing it clear of any water or debris before inhaling.
Just as he prepared to slip under the water, he noticed a fluorescent red pouch floating in the cabin. The bold black letters read EMERGENCY FLARE PISTOL. Kang retrieved the watertight package and checked its seals. Everything inside the waterproof pouch was dry.
Quickly, Kang pulled out the flare pistol and loaded it. He then slipped down into the water, leaving only his eyes and the hand with the pistol above the surface. Kang aimed at the point where Spitfire’s bow tanks were slowly leaking fuel, ducked his head beneath the water, and fired. His hand slipped below the dark water just as the flare struck the fractured port side of Spitfire. The leaking fuel immediately erupted into flames.
Kilkenny heard a loud thumping from inside Spitfire’s hull, as if someone had swung a sledgehammer from inside. Grabbing hold of one of the fluted contours on the ship’s hull, he hauled himself out of the water and onto the capsized craft. He looked around the perimeter of the ship for the source of the noise, when a flash of brightness caught his eye.
‘Everyone into the water!’ Kilkenny shouted. ‘Grab anything that floats and push off! The ship is on fire.’
The others wasted no time heeding Kilkenny’s warning. Roe and Yakushev pulled cushions and life vests from the water and helped Stone swim away from the wreck
age.
Kilkenny took one last look before diving in, when he caught sight of something moving beneath the surface of the water. He paused for a moment to get a better look at the strange multicolored object. Kilkenny recognized the large cylindrical shape of a scuba tank and knew immediately that someone else had survived the crash, someone who didn’t want to be rescued by the authorities.
The diver had emerged from beneath Spitfire when Kilkenny first spotted him. Kilkenny sprinted across the ship’s keel and made a running dive into the water as the bow tank exploded. Shards of flaming Kevlar rained down from the fireball that ballooned up from the ship. The shock wave from the blast rocked Kilkenny just as his arms opened a hole in the surface of the water.
The diver was now a good fifteen yards ahead of him and Kilkenny knew that he would have to swim flat out in the choppy river to catch a man wearing fins. The sound of the explosion masked Kilkenny’s entry into the river, his body churning the water in a flat-out freestyle sprint. Kilkenny was closing the distance, but the diver’s form was darkening. The man was moving deeper under the water.
The waterborne shock wave from the blast punished Kang’s ears with a sharp, painful ringing. The pain increased with each foot he descended underwater. At ten feet beneath the surface, the pressure against his ears was a full third greater than on the surface. The agony pounding in his head was almost more than he could bear. Any deeper and he ran the risk of passing out from the pain. Still, he had the disk with the American codes and he had a way out; all he needed to do was keep moving.
Kilkenny cleared twenty-five meters of his open-water race, about where he expected to overtake his submerged opponent. He stopped and studied the water carefully; it seemed to be the same uniform murky brown all around him. Then he saw a flicker of color muted by the silt, then another flash of hazy color. It was the diver.
Breathing deeply into his abdomen, he filled his lungs with air and plunged beneath the surface. Once under the water,Kilkenny entered the murky darkness as a blind man fighting against an opponent who was better equipped for this environment. Better equipped to swim perhaps, but six years with the SEALs had taught Kilkenny that he didn’t need his eyes to fight underwater.
Using a deep flutter kick, Kilkenny pushed himself through the water with his arms extended ahead of him. He aimed his body in the direction that he had last seen the diver heading, hoping to intercept the man’s torso on the way down.
His estimate of the diver’s depth and speed was a little off, and Kilkenny swam down into the man’s legs. Kang’s right leg brushed past Kilkenny’s hand, gliding up his arm before striking him in the shoulder. A heavy rubber fin slapped against Kilkenny’s chest. Kang shuddered when he realized that he’d touched something solid in the water.
Kilkenny, still pointed head-down, wrapped his right arm around Kang’s leg and trapped it against his body. Gripping the neoprene-covered calf, Kilkenny locked the joint and struck the side of Kang’s knee with the flattened palm of his hand. The knee dislocated with a gratifying snap that echoed in Kilkenny’s water-filled ears. The deafened Kang felt only the numbing pain of his throbbing leg, which now hung in the water at an unnatural angle.
Kang rolled to protect his injured leg and turned to face his attacker. His pain and anger gave way to a moment of absolute fury when he realized that his opponent, the driver of that devil boat, was Nolan Kilkenny.Kang was still bitter about the assassin’s failure to eliminate Kilkenny when he first became a problem. This troublesome young man was all that stood in the way of his escape, and Kang swore that Kilkenny would now die.
Kang saw that Kilkenny wore no gear and, even now, was straining against the oxygen-depleted air within his lungs. He struck where Kilkenny was now most vulnerable, his solar plexus. The water slowed his punch, but Kang only hoped to knock the wind out of him. At ten feet underwater, that would be enough to drown the man.
Kilkenny felt Kang twist in the water and, sensing the attack, angled away from the blow. Kang’s punch landed late, glancing off Kilkenny’s back. Only a few bubbles escaped from Kilkenny’s mouth.
Kilkenny had only a few seconds left before he had to return to the surface for air. When he returned, the injured Kang would be waiting for him, able to breathe and able to see. Kilkenny had to even the odds.
Kang’s head was nearby, within striking distance if he could find it. Guessing his way, Kilkenny lunged out and dislodged the scuba mask from Kang’s face. The river poured in against Kang’s eyes, obscuring his vision with water and silt. Kilkenny’s lungs screamed for oxygen as he reached to strip the scuba mask from Kang’s face.
Kang stopped Kilkenny’s arm and pushed the clutching hand away from the mask. Both men were now blind in the water, and each had taken hold of the other. Kang twisted Kilkenny’s arm back, forcing him to release the damaged leg. He then swam away from Kilkenny as quickly as he could.Kilkenny, now desperate for air, raced to the surface.
Kilkenny’s first few gulps of air didn’t get much past his mouth. His body seemed to suck the oxygen out of each breath before it even reached his lungs, the demand was so high. Gradually, his skin flushed and took on its normal color. With his immediate, physical needs met, Kilkenny’s thoughts returned to the man below.
After Kilkenny’s withdrawal, Kang took stock of his situation. He reset the dislodged mask and purged it of the sight-robbing water. If only he could repair his leg as easily as resetting the mask. Dispassionately, he inspected the lifeless limb. It bent awkwardly away from the joint, connected to him only by the pain that radiated from his damaged knee. Without the use of both his legs, he would be forced to rely on his arms for propulsion in the strong river current. His nemesis floated above him like a wraith, a dark shadow against the diffuse light of the sky.
Kilkenny remained at the surface, fighting to catch his breath as Kang watched from below. Before trying to swim again, Kang checked his belongings to make sure everything was in order. The plunge bag was still securely fastened to his weight belt, next to another object he hadn’t noticed before—a dive knife. Kang unbuttoned the clasp around the handle, pulled the knife free of its sheath, and held it in front of his mask. The knife had a dimpled rubber-coated handle and a long blade with a serrated back edge. He might be wounded, but Kang now held a decisive advantage in this battle.
From above, Kilkenny could barely discern the multicolored figure in the water below, just at the edge of visibility in the murky river.With a dislocated knee,Kang wasn’t going anywhere quickly, but that didn’t make him any less of a threat. In fact, he was more dangerous now that he knew Kilkenny was coming after him.
Kilkenny took each breath in slowly, deeply, bringing a calmness to his body and mind as he prepared to do battle. His heart rate fell and his body became fluid, yin. He would be one with the water, allowing his opponent to define the attack while he flowed around Kang’s offensive. He would remain in this fluid state, striking hard, yang, only when an opportunity presented itself.He took a deep breath and slipped below the water without leaving a ripple on the surface.
Kilkenny approached Kang in a near trance, seeing the man with his mind rather than his eyes. He moved his arms in sweeping arcs to clear the water ahead of him. At three meters, he could almost feel Kang’s presence waiting in the darkness.Kilkenny slowed his descent and waited for the attack.
Using his good leg, Kang turned and moved his body above his opponent. Kilkenny was upside down in the water, floating, with his hands outstretched in search of an enemy just beyond his reach. Kang brought his arm up above his head and prepared to lunge down into Kilkenny’s exposed back.
An eddy rushed across Kilkenny’s face. Something disturbed the water nearby,moving quickly enough that it generated a minivortex as it passed. The direction of the turbulent flow let Kilkenny know that its source was now above him.Kilkenny twisted 180 degrees and crossed his arms just as Kang’s struck down on him. The knife sliced the underside of Kilkenny’s left forearm, opening a gash from
his wrist to his elbow. The blood from Kilkenny’s arm issued forth in reddish clouds, but the wound didn’t prevent him from taking hold of Kang’s arm.
Kilkenny performed like a weightless gymnast, twisting around his body’s center of gravity to gain an advantage. Holding Kang’s arm firmly with both hands, Kilkenny turned himself and ground the fragile bones of Kang’s wrist together. The nerve bundles running through the carpal tunnel in Kang’s tortured wrist quivered with pain until his entire arm went numb. Kilkenny grabbed the knife before it fell away from Kang’s deadened grasp. He gave another half turn to Kang’s wrist, doubling the man over as his arm twisted back against the scuba tank. Kang tried to resist, but each kick sent a wave of agony through his useless leg.
Kang struggled against him, but Kilkenny countered each of his moves easily. Kilkenny knew that he had no more than a few seconds of air left before he had to return to the surface, and this time Kang must go with him.
With the knife in his free hand, Kilkenny followed the contour of the scuba tank until he found the octopus of lines that emerged from the top.He released Kang’s hand, grabbed hold of the line feeding Kang’s regulator, and severed the thick black hose. A surge of bubbles exploded from the pressurized tank and the air line whipped about like a frenzied snake.
Kang was in midbreath when his regulator filled with silty water. He choked, and there was no controlling the spasm of coughing that doubled him over as he spat the regulator from his lips. The only thought in Kang’s mind now was the blackness that came with drowning.
His coughing slowed and he lost consciousness as the river filled his lungs. Kilkenny grabbed him around the chest and dragged him upward. Kang’s mind was so far removed from his body that he didn’t notice the easing pressure against his shattered eardrums.
Kilkenny broke the surface with Kang’s limp body, only to be sprayed by the prop wash of a Royal Marine Search and Rescue helicopter. Eagle had followed Kilkenny on his pursuit of Kang, tracking his position until help arrived. Two wet-suited marines jumped into the water from the helicopter to assist Kilkenny with his prisoner. Kang went up first in the hoist, while Kilkenny relaxed in the water with the aid of a marine diver.