by Arno Joubert
"Okay, let's stick together. It's a myth that they'll attack-- Ow!" Laiveaux shouted, his neck muscles knotted into cords. "One bumped into me."
Bruce's teeth chattered, the cold wind whipping his hair back. "I'm freezing, how long before we die of hypothermia?"
"Fifteen minutes," Laiveaux answered.
Alexa dove down again. One of the sharks made a lazy turn and headed straight at them, opening his mouth. She only had one chance at this. She waited until he was less than two feet away from her before she fired straight at him. The bullet exploded from the barrel with a bubbling fizz, hitting the shark in the eye.
The beast kept coming, sinking his jaws into Bruce's leg, and Alexa shook the weapon as she tried to fire it again, but it jammed. The shark was chomping down on Bruce's leg, oblivious of its injury as Alexa jammed the barrel into his eye and repeatedly striking his snout with the palm of her hand. The three meter long brute twisted away, slamming into Alexa, then moved away at an odd angle, like he was trying to swim on his side.
The shark rolled around slowly and went belly-up. A couple of seconds later, two other sharks started attacking him, savagely chomping down on their mate, ripping chunks of meat from his side.
Alexa went up for a breath, saw Bruce's face contorted in pain. "Oh, shit Daddy, I'm sorry, I couldn't stop him."
"At least I have something else to worry about than the bloody cold water," he groaned.
Alexa dove back down and wrapped strips of material around his leg, tightening them like a tourniquet. It didn't look good, pieces of flesh dangling from a gaping wound. She looked around and noticed more sharks had joined the feeding frenzy.
She surfaced again.
"Why are they thrashing around like that?" Laiveaux asked.
"I shot one of them, they're feeding on him now."
"Good," Laiveaux shouted above the howling wind.
"Bloody bastards took a chunk out of my leg," Bruce said, his eyes wide in fear and shock.
"You're fine," Alexa said. Her body was numb; she couldn't feel her face anymore.
The ducked into the water as a shot cracked and zipped into the water in front of them.
"Shush, I hear something," Alexa said.
They listened, trying to make out a sound above the din of the wind. "A boat, they're coming for us," Laiveaux shouted.
"Which could be a good thing," Alexa said, watching the thrashing frenzy as the dead shark was being ripped apart.
"I'd rather die out here than being tortured in there. At least I can see the stars above my head," Bruce said with a grimace.
The boat sped their way, a search light panning over the waters. The roar of the engine increased and the blinding light shone directly on them. "There they are," someone shouted.
The speedboat made a wide turn and headed straight their way, not slowing down. "Watch out, they're going to try run us over," Alexa shouted, diving below the surface.
They ducked below the water, but Bruce was too slow, the hull knocking his head with a sickening crack. He floated to the surface, face down, unconscious.
Alexa and Laiveaux surfaced, sucking in rasping lung-fulls of air. "Bruce!" Alexa shrieked, swimming toward him. The boat had turned around again and was rocketing toward Alexa, she tried desperately to get out of the destructive path, but it sped straight over her.
It sounded and felt like she was in a meat grinder, the rotors of the boat gouging her back and neck.
She felt no more pain, although she saw her blood tint the water a hazy red.
An eerie calm swept over her. She felt at peace with herself, an adrenaline-induced bliss as she emptied her lungs and drifted down to the dark abyss below.
Neil stood, his hands lifted up in the air, as the man nervously thumbed the detonator switch.
"Tell the Captain to get the plane in the air, now!" the man shouted in broken english, a maniacal look in his eyes.
Neil noticed Barak circle the man from behind, his gun aimed at the man's hand. Barak lifted a questioning eyebrow and Neil nodded.
The gun barked and the terrorist's hand exploded, leaving behind a disfigured stump of sinew and bone, the detonator switch dropping to the ground.
Neil leapt forward and grabbed the man's other hand. The terrorist stood there, rigid, his arm with the missing hand still in the air, staring in amazement at the place where his hand used to be.
Neil pushed the man to the ground and grabbed both arms behind his back, tying them together at his elbows. The terrorist found his voice and started howling, forcing Neil to calm him down by crunching a boot into his face.
Neil rolled the man over and cut the straps attaching the bomb to the man's body, then laid it down on the floor.
"Shit, Sergeant, this isn't any kind of bomb I've ever seen before," Liberman said, kneeling beside the explosive device.
"What do you mean?"
He pointed to a yellow sign on one of the canisters. "See this?"
"The nuclear sign?"
"Yes. But that's not worrying me as much as this," Liberman said and thumbed an inscription on the side of the canister.
"What does it say?" Neil asked.
"It's Iranian and it says it contains refined plutonium."
Neil cursed as he took a photo of the bomb, zooming in closer to get the inscription details. He typed a message on his phone and added the photo as an attachment to the email. "What do we do?"
Less than a minute later his phone rang. "Sergeant Allen, where did you find that?"
"Colonel Frydman. I'm aboard an Airbus A330 that was hijacked by the PLO. We've sanitized the plane, but we have this little problem on our hands."
"The plane on TV at JFK?"
"Yes."
"Shit."
"What is it?"
Frydman sighed. "A high level plutonium nuclear bomb."
"What happens if it goes off."
Colonel Frydman kept quiet.
"Colonel?"
He could hear the man type on a keyboard. "Most of New York State disappears," he whispered.
"Okay, thanks, I get the idea, Colonel."
"Is Barak there?"
"Yes," Neil said, handing over the phone.
A quick conversation ensued where Barak said, "yes," a lot and nodded his head. He disconnected the call and handed the phone to Neil. "He's mailing me the blueprints."
"Think you could disarm it?"
Barak pursed his lips, scratching his chin. He shrugged and gave Neil a sheepish look.
"Shit."
Lotner touched Neil's shoulder.
Neil spun around. "What?" he snapped.
"Sergeant, I think we have a problem."
"What, spit it out," Neil snapped.
"There's a countdown timer on the bomb."
Neil closed his eyes and dropped his chin on his chest. "How long?"
"Thirty nine minutes." Lotner said, biting his lip.
Neil stood up and grabbed Barak's shoulders, shaking him. "You must disarm the damn thing, now."
Barak's pursed his lips, a defeated look on his face. "If I make a mistake, it could blow up."
Neil studied the man's face. "Okay screw this. Everyone off the plane, now." He turned around to the flight crew. "How far can you get us in thirty minutes?" he asked the Captain.
The man shrugged. "Two hundred, two hundred and fifty miles, if I pushed it."
"Will that be enough?" Barak asked.
"It has to be," Neil said. "Okay, everyone out. Captain, get us out of here.”
Alexa closed her eyes as she drifted deeper into the dark ocean. Fleeting images crossed her mind, Yumi and Neil, smiling at her. Bruce picking her up and tossing her in the air, swinging her around and around when she was a kid.
She opened her eyes. The silver reflection of the ocean surface was receding. There was no sign of the sharks, the boat had probably frightened them away.
The water was icy cold. Bright lights appeared on the surface of the water and the jet boat accelerated
away, leaving two white plumes in its wake. She saw the outlines of a dark shape hovering above the water, like a giant beetle.
A rescue diver plunged into the ocean, saw her, and swam towards her. He grabbed her around the waist and forced the regulator mouthpiece into her mouth. She sucked in deep breaths, drinking in the cold air like a dehydrated person would drink water.
Two more divers had jumped into the water and were attaching harnesses to Bruce and Laiveaux.
The diver swam up with Alexa and by the time they reached the surface, Bruce and Laiveaux were gone.
He attached a harness to her and they hoisted her up, the salty water stinging her eyes. She felt hands tug at her as they pulled her into the cabin, the sound of material tearing as they first removed her pants and then her shirt. Her head lolled to the side, and she saw Bruce and Laiveaux laid out on stretchers, covered with blankets, looking like they were dead.
President Rue sat in the corner, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes were wide, terrified, staring at Alexa.
"Oh shit," one of the paramedics said as they turned her over onto her stomach. Alexa flinched. Those were not the words she was wanting to hear, she thought in a detached way. Then all the noise combined into a single, high-pitched buzz and the world faded to black.
Neil sat in the cockpit next to the Captain, looking down at the ocean below. "Can't we go any faster?"
Captain Mark Bracer shook his head, the steering yoke vibrating in his hand. "I'm pushing her as fast as I can, we're up to four hundred and eighty knots."
Neil glanced at his watch. "We need to dump her in fifteen minutes. I need her to submerge as deep as possible."
Bracer pursed his lips, cast Neil an anguished glance. "You think this will work?"
"It has to, Captain."
They flew in silence for a couple of minutes, the Airbus shuddering and the jet engines screaming. "Okay, this should about do it," Neil said, unbuckling his seat belt. He slipped a parachute pack onto his back and handed the Captain his. "I need you to put us into a nosedive before we jump."
"But the plane will disintegrate, Sergeant," the Captain said as he tightened the straps around his shoulders, looking uncertain.
"I know, that will make her submerge faster."
Captain Bracer gave a curt nod. "In that case, I'll deactivate the ditching system, in case some part of the plane survives."
"Good thinking. You ready?"
Bracer looked uncertain. "I've never jumped out of a plane before," he said, smiling nervously.
Neil put a hand on the captain's shoulder. "I've never crashed a plane before." He checked his watch. "Okay, do it."
The Captain nodded and shifted into the seat. "Disengaging autopilot, manual override," he said, pushing the yoke all the way down as he did something with his feet. He jumped up as the plane started to dive. "Let's go," he shouted.
They pulled their way through the door and up the aisle. The plane was in a steep dive and they had to pull themselves up the aisle by the armrests of the seats to get to the emergency exit. Neil grabbed the man by the collar and manhandled him up, row by row. The guy clung to Neil's arm as Neil ripped open the emergency exit and dragged the guy forward. "Remember to pull the cord like I showed you."
The captain nodded with pursed lips.
"But only when you're clear."
The Captain nodded again, his hair buffeted by the wind. Neil shoved him out of the opening, then followed.
A couple of seconds later, the Captain's chute billowed open and Neil ripped his cord as well. They floated to the surface, the plane screaming towards the horizon.
The plane crashed into the water before they touched down. It did a nosedive and somersaulted, a massive fireball erupting over the surface of the ocean as a wing struck the water.
A second explosion followed as they touched down, and Neil winced. "Could that be the bomb?" Neil shouted to the Captain, swimming toward him.
The man shook his head. "No, the second fuel tank has blown."
Neil and Captain Bracer paddled as they watched what was left of the plane start to sink. "Come on, boy," Neil said, checking his watch.
"How long?" Bracer asked.
"Three minutes."
"Go down, you bitch," Bracer shouted.
Neil checked his watch. "Two minutes."
A Sikorsky HH-60 helicopter circled the sky above them. "The rescue team have arrived," Bracer said, glancing up.
"Let's hope they find something to rescue," Neil said. He checked his watch. "Less than thirty seconds."
They paddled, waiting for the inevitable. "You think it's deep enough?" Bracer asked.
"We'll find out soon enough."
Neil tried to brace himself for the impact. They heard the sound first - a sonic boom, rumbling towards them, and then the explosion. They were blasted back twenty feet as the ocean exploded more than two miles away. A plume of water burst half-a-mile into the sky, followed by what looked like superheated steam.
Bracer swam to Neil. "That wasn't so bad."
A fine mist descended upon them. Neil stopped paddling as he felt something bump his leg. "Get out of the way," he shouted and started swimming. They looked back after they had swum thirty yards. A humpback whale had emerged from the ocean and was floating on its side. All around them fish and squid started floating to the surface.
Val-de-Grâce Hospital,
Paris
08:00 AM
"We should stop meeting like this," Neil said, squeezing Alexa's hand.
She smiled weakly. "How bad?"
"The doctor said you were lucky."
"How bad?"
"Multiple lacerations on your back. No nerve damage or spinal injuries.”
She propped herself up on her elbow and winced. "How long before I get out? "
"A couple of weeks," he lied.
She smiled, lay back, closing her eyes. "We have a death mark on our heads, Neil."
"I know, baby. We'll deal with that later." He fished his phone from his pocket as it rang. It was President Rue.
"Sergeant, you are our only person left to turn to."
"Yes?"
"We've received another ultimatum from GREEFF."
"From Sonti?"
"Yes. He sent us a recording. I'll mail it to you now."
A minute later Neil's phone beeped. He opened the attachment and sat down next to Alexa, showing her the screen. He pressed play.
Sonti was sitting behind a desk, his hands folded in front of him. He was wearing a carnival mask, the type people used to wear to balls. The mask's eyes were contorted into a scowl, Sonti's mouth all that was visible.
"Very dramatic. That Sonti?" Neil asked.
Alexa nodded. “Guess so.”
Sonti smiled then started to speak. "Dear citizens of the new world, or first world countries as you like to call yourselves. I hereby grant you a final chance to rectify all the damage that you've caused the planet over the past century."
He stood up and walked to a chart against the wall, the camera following him. "You are emitting an astonishing amount of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere on a daily basis."
Pictures of cities around the world, the air filled with smog, covered the screen. "You're killing this planet and its inhabitants."
He laughed. "And unfortunately, there is one big rotten apple amongst you bunch of naughty children. A rotten apple that consumes more than eighty percent of the natural resources on the planet. Can you guess who I'm referring to?"
He smiled again, pointing his finger straight at the camera. "That's right, it's you America."
A chart appeared on the screen. "Food consumption, oil and gas usage, waste products produced. You're up there at the top by a huge margin, America. And you're only, what, five-hundred-and-thirty million people?"
He resumed his pacing, the camera following him. "Think about that, America. Combined, you consume more than eighty percent of the earth's resources, but you're less than five percent of the w
orld's population."
He turned to face the camera, pointing an accusing finger. "You know what that means, don't you? You're a scourge. And you need to be eliminated from the food chain."
He smiled, folding his hands in front of him. "So this is what we're going to do. If I don't see a move to greener technologies within, wait for it, twenty-four hours, I'm going to--," he held up a hand and paused. "Well, I guess you will just have to wait and see, won't you?"
The screen went dark.
Neil looked at Alexa with a baffled expression. She pushed herself up and swung her legs off the bed. "You can't, Alexa, you're injured," Neil said, grabbing her arm.
"Leave me," she said, pulling her arm free. "I need to do something."
She scampered down the hall, Neil following close behind. She burst into Laiveaux's ward. A nurse looked up as she pulled a thermometer from Laiveaux's mouth. "Hey, you can't be in--"
She shoved the woman aside. "General, I think you need to see this."
Interpol Headquarters,
Lyon, France
8:45 AM
T Minus 22 hours
Alexa, using a crutch for support, hobbled beside Laiveaux's wheelchair as Neil pushed the General into the boardroom. Bruce, Madam President and Henrie Dumas were seated at the table.
"We need to go back to the island," Alexa said as she balanced her crutch against the table and pulled out a chair.
"We've sent a search party, there's nothing there," President Rue said.
"Nothing?" Alexa asked.
President Rue nodded. "First we sent a drone - there was no movement anywhere on the island. We sent in a dozen troops to make sure, see if we missed something." She sighed, drumming the table with her fingers. "The place was hardwired with booby traps. I lost three men. We went over the facility with a fine-toothed comb, but it was empty."
"You found nothing at all? No armory or computers or printouts? Nothing?"
Madam President shook her head. "They were efficient. We found an assortment of weapons and two dead guards, but otherwise, nothing."
"And Rowley?"