Silent Thunder

by Iris Johansen

  "The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll have your submersible back to you," Kirov said.

  "In that case, cancel the dinner invite. I'll get my crew out here to put LISA in the water."

  It took Tanbury's crew ninety minutes to replace LISA's depleted power cells and attach it to the rental boat's winch. Soon after dark, Hannah and Kirov were under way, heading toward the coordinates indicated in the digital video file.

  Kirov scribbled on the chart he had spread out on the interior cabin's dining table. "Perfect. We should make it there just before dawn."

  Hannah looked at the Samsovian symbols on the map. "Sometime you'll have to teach me this system of yours. Is it really that good?"

  "It's very elegant, very clean, and utterly confusing to those who don't take the time to understand it completely." He smiled. "I think it made us feel like we were members of an exclusive club. But snob appeal aside, it takes me back to a different time."

  "What time?"

  "When I was in the academy, the world was a simpler place. Or at least it appeared to be. We had a country we could be proud of, and we believed our navy was second to none."

  "It's a fine navy," Hannah said.

  "Don't believe the propaganda. There were fine people in it, and I'd trust my life to almost any of them. But do you know how much of the time U.S. military vessels are at sea? Sixty-five percent of the time. Do you how much of the time Russian boats are out there? Only fifteen percent, all due to mechanical and efficiency problems. Our average was a bit better in my day, but not much."

  "It's a country in upheaval."

  "There needed to be upheaval. It took me a while to realize it was necessary, but the reality set in soon enough." His lips twisted. "It was forced on me at the point of an AK-47. So here I am drowning in reality and trying to make clarity out of the chaos of my life."

  "By killing everyone who caused that chaos."

  He smiled. "Trust you to simplify and rid me of any false rationalizations. You're right, of course. You're a very unusual woman, Hannah. It didn't surprise me that Tanbury was willing to trust you with his daily bread." He held her gaze. "I'm beginning to think I'd trust you with much more."

  Christ, she couldn't look away from him. She felt… She finally managed to tear her gaze away from his. Crazy. Block it. Hannah quickly glanced at the rearview video monitor and saw the wake of LISA's antenna as it cut through the water. "You don't think the video file we found is showing us the location of the capsule?"

  "It wouldn't make sense. Pavski obviously has a copy of the video. Otherwise, he would have wanted that music player. We know that it's at least five days old. Why would he have bothered with the Silent Thunder, Conner, or you? As I said, this might be something else, perhaps Heiser's clue. Of course, Pavski may have already beaten us to it."

  Hannah stared into the darkness that lay ahead. "If that's true, he could even be there now."

  4:45 A.M.

  Hannah's eyes opened. It took her only a moment to realize that the boat's sudden downshifting had wakened her.

  "Good morning," Kirov said. "Please return your seatbacks and tray tables to their normal and upright position."

  "Are we there?"

  "Just another few hundred yards. No sign of Pavski or anyone else."

  Hannah pulled off the jacket that Kirov had draped across her while she was sleeping. It was still dark outside save for a sliver of orange on the eastern horizon. She quickly looked up at the rearview monitor, which now displayed a green-tinted "night-vision" mode.

  "Don't worry, LISA is safe and sound. I've been keeping an eye on her." Kirov throttled down the engine and idled through the water. "Okay, this is about where we need to be. It's your show now."

  Hannah glanced at the sea around them. The seas were calm, and there wasn't a light to be seen anywhere. "Let's get on that winch and raise LISA four feet. That will give us access to the top hatch."

  "Aye aye."

  While Kirov moved to the stern and activated the power winch, Hannah slipped on the jacket and zipped up. As chilly as it was on the water's surface, she knew it would be much colder a mile and a half below.

  Kirov stepped onto LISA's upper hull and rotated the wheel lock until he could pull open its narrow hatch. "Ladies first?"

  "Ladies only."

  He stiffened. "What are you talking about? I'm going with you."

  "The hell you are."

  "It's a two-man craft. I'm not going to stay up here while you-"

  "Yes, you are. As brilliantly designed as LISA may be, things can and do go wrong. I never dive without a support team on the surface."

  "I'm your support team?"

  "Unless you think you can pilot LISA better than I can."

  "You know I can't."

  "Hello, support team."

  "Shit."

  Hannah reached into the pod, pulled out a four-foot rod, and handed it to Kirov. "This is an amplified underwater telescoping antenna. Attach it to the side of the boat and extend it all the way down. If you connect it to the boat's main radio, we should be able to keep in touch most of the way down."

  "Will I be able to see?"

  "Nope. For that we'd need a mile and a half of fiber-optic cable. I give great description, though."

  "Terrific."

  "Give me a few minutes to power up and run diagnostics. After that, you can disengage the winch."

  "I'm not happy about this, Hannah."

  "And I wouldn't be happy if something went wrong, and I didn't have a support team to rescue me." Hannah settled into the righthand pilot seat, flipped the power switches, and initiated the diagnostic routine. While she waited, she listened to the familiar purr of LISA coming to life. The last time she was in there, Conner was her point man on the surface, making sure the company engineers didn't suddenly change the test conditions. He'd always been there to watch her back.

  But Kirov was here. Kirov would watch.

  After the "all clear" lights appeared, Hannah looked outside to see that Kirov had successfully mounted the underwater antenna. She gave him the thumbs-up.

  He picked up the radio microphone and spoke into it. "Last chance for a little companionship."

  She slipped on her headset and angled the microphone over her mouth. "Just close the damned hatch."

  He slammed the hatch shut and locked it.

  As she buckled herself in, she heard him releasing the winch hook. After a few moments, LISA was free in the water and slowly dipping beneath the waves.

  Kirov's voice came over the radio a few seconds later. "Support team to LISA, do you read?"

  "Loud and clear, support team. I'm glad you've finally accepted your place in the world."

  "I didn't say that. I just wanted to feed your ego. What's your depth?"

  She checked the readout. "Eighty-five feet and falling free."

  "ETA?"

  "About ninety minutes. Know any good drinking songs?"

  "Too many. I take requests, you know."

  "Maybe I'll save them for the trip back up."

  "As you wish. Support team out."

  Hannah settled back in the bucket seat and felt her body relax for the first time in days. Why did this experience always bring her so much peace? Many people went nuts in those tiny pods, but she always found serenity once the surface sounds faded, and the last traces of sunlight disappeared. The ocean was hers.

  She checked the onboard CD player. Howard Hanson's Second Symphony, which for some reason was a favorite of researchers on deep dives. Dark and foreboding, but ultimately triumphant. Why not? She hit play and let the orchestra take her to the ocean floor.

  Eighty minutes later, traces of sediment floated in front of her running lights. She spoke into the microphone. "Kirov, can you read?"

  No answer.

  "Kirov?

  "Yes, my dear. Nice to hear from you. I thought you'd fallen asleep down there."

  "I was starting to think the same about you. I'm glad the underwater ant
enna is working so well. We usually need a lifeline to communicate with someone this far down. I'm nearing the floor."

  "Do you see anything?"

  "Not yet. Sonar shows me about sixty feet from the bottom. I'm about to hit the high beams."

  Hannah turned on the high-wattage navigation lights, which cast an intense aura of illumination around LISA's hull. After a few moments, she saw waves of silt on the ocean floor, almost like tiny sand dunes.

  "I've arrived. I'm about a quarter of a mile north-northwest of the target site."

  "Keep your eyes open. We don't know how precise their coordinates are. If it was dropped from the surface, it could have drifted."

  "Tell me about it." She thought of the two halves of the Titanic, which went under at the same spot but ended up almost a mile apart on the bottom. "I'm going in."

  She gripped the control stick and piloted LISA six feet over the ocean floor, moving slowly so as not to kick up too much silt. "Visibility's good. I'm nearing the target zone. Still no sign of anything unusual."

  Christ, he hated this, Kirov thought.

  He knew what it was like down there. He wanted to be in that pod with her.

  No, he wanted to be in that pod instead of her.

  Okay, keep his voice calm and casual. She didn't need to know he was in a panic. Support meant emotional as well as physical and mental. She was alone down there and doing her job. If even a hint of the terror he was feeling crept into his demeanor, then that claustrophobic pod could seem like a coffin to her.

  "Do you see anything?"

  "I'll tell you when I do. Don't be impatient. Wait. I see something. I'm moving in for a closer look."

  Kirov was so focused on Hannah's voice from the radio that the sound of his satellite phone ringing startled him. It was in the cabin connected to its charger/antenna unit.

  Should he answer or let it ring? He strode into the cabin to check the ID box.

  Eugenia.

  THIRTEEN

  Hannah's eyes narrowed on the four large red canisters. Clustered together on the ocean floor, they measured four feet long and twelve inches in diameter. To her surprise, they rested precisely where the video file had indicated they would be. Either they had been placed there by a sub, or there was a built-in beacon that had relayed precise GPS coordinates after the canisters settled to the bottom.

  Hannah slipped her hands into the glovelike controllers that operated the mechanical hands outside the pod. She flexed her fingers and watched the steel fingers outside mimic every movement. Although she had specified the device in many of her designs, she never ceased to be amazed by the finely articulated robotic hands. Television news stories often gave her the credit for the hand probes, but she took great pains to give proper credit to their brilliant young designer, a kinesiology professor from Cornell.

  "Hannah, stop. Don't go any closer!" Kirov's voice was tense.

  Hannah froze. "Why?"

  "I just heard from Eugenia. Pavski may have wanted us to have that satchel."

  "What?"

  "She found out that Petrenko didn't pick up anyone last weekend because he wasn't even in the country. He was at an estate auction in Paris from Saturday to Monday. It was a setup. A trap. No one is closing in on the boat, so it must be down there. The canisters."

  "Then what the hell am I looking at?"

  "What do you see?"

  "Four cylinders. They appear to be welded together. There's no silt on them, so they haven't been here for long. There's no way the Silent Thunder deposited them here six years ago."

  "Are they missiles?"

  "No, not like in the video, but they are red. They're less than three yards from me."

  "Don't do anything."

  "After all this time and effort, we're just going to pack up and take LISA home?"

  "It could be a trap. Pavski may have wanted us to find those cylinders."

  "You really believe that? If I hadn't thought to look at the files in that music player-"

  "I would have thought of it. I would have eventually gone through everything. And Pavski knows that. The information had to be hidden well enough that we wouldn't suspect a trap."

  "You're giving him a lot of credit."

  "He's earned it, believe me. A lot of people have died underestimating Pavski."

  She stared at the cylinders. "It's so damned frustrating. They're right in front of me."

  "It's not worth it, Hannah. It might be a booby trap."

  "I won't go any closer. Let me at least do a sweep with the radio and sonar sensors."

  Kirov paused for a long moment. "Okay, but be careful. And whatever you do, don't touch it."

  She grasped a tiny joystick on the main console and focused the secondary parabolic antenna toward the canisters. She wished she were in one of her other pods, designed for salvage missions rather than the study of natural phenomena. LISA's options were limited in this type of operation.

  Hannah switched on the scanner to determine if the canisters were emanating radio waves. After a few seconds, the scanner's scope lit up with a rhythmic visual pattern. "Okay, I'm getting a low-frequency pulse. Probably the GPS locator signal."

  "Fine. Now get out of there."

  "Not yet. I'm bouncing sonar off them, and there appears to be some dense mass there. They're not hollow."

  "I never thought they were. Happy now?"

  "Just another few seconds." She steered LISA over the canisters to give her sensors a clearer shot. "Okay, I'm getting some magnetic readings."

  "How intense?"

  "Strong… and suddenly getting stronger." She watched the readout. "The magnetic readings are going through the roof."

  "Hannah, you may have triggered an explosive device. Get the hell out of there!"

  Hannah hit the ballast control. "I'm on my way."

  The pod didn't move.

  What in the hell?

  Clang.

  A heavy metallic sound echoed in the small pod, and LISA listed hard to the right. Hannah looked out the observation window.

  The canisters were gone.

  Their imprint was all that was left on the ocean floor.

  "Hannah?" Kirov shouted.

  "Christ!" She struggled with the controls. "I must have activated an electromagnet in those cylinders. It's attached itself to LISA."

  "Shake it off. Now!"

  "I'm working on it!" She thrust the pod forward, skipping along the sea bottom. Each impact shook the pod with bone-numbing force.

  Come on, LISA, hold together…

  The canisters scraped along the hull, but remained affixed to LISA's underside.

  Shit.

  She punched the ballast control and rocketed upward. The canisters shook against the intense pressure.

  "Hurry," Kirov said. "Pavski doesn't believe in long trigger sequences."

  The entire pod shook. Sweat ran down Hannah's face, and her nose suddenly dripped cold and wet.

  Blood. From the sudden pressure change, she realized.

  "Hannah…!"

  "The cylinders aren't budging. I can't shake them!"

  "Don't give up. Try."

  She tasted the blood in her mouth. Christ almighty.

  A massive rock formation suddenly filled her front window. She pulled the control stick and spun clear.

  A near miss. She'd seen it on the sonar on the way down, but thought she was farther away from-

  Wait a second.

  She eased off the ballast control and slowed her ascent. No time to figure all the angles on this one. She swung back and charged toward the formation.

  Was she out of her mind?

  No doubt. A six-inch piloting error would slam her against a rock wall.

  But any port in a storm…

  She gunned the engines, hurtling faster toward the craggy formation.

  Study the features, pick the best spot…

  At the last instant, she tilted forty-five degrees to the port side and skimmed over the formation, ramming
the cylinders against its sheer face. She accelerated and pulled the auxiliary ballast tank release lever. Compressed air blasted from the pod's backside, further repelling the magnetized cylinders while LISA sped away.

  She was free!

  No time to celebrate, she thought. Keep moving.

  Hannah pushed the engine harder. "Come on, baby. Give me some distance."

  Her rearview screen suddenly lit up with a white, intense light that cast an eerily beautiful glow over the area. The underwater formation was now part of a majestic mountain range, stretching as far as Hannah could see.

  The shock wave hit a moment later.

  The pod violently rocked and tilted on its axis, spinning out of control as the power flickered on and off. Hannah gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as a dull roar overtook LISA.

  She felt the bomb's explosive force in the hull, the equipment plates, in her bones and teeth.

  No way in hell could LISA withstand this kind of force.

  Then, finally, it stopped.

  Total silence, except for the high-pitched whine of the emergency lamps.

  Hannah opened her eyes and was startled when LISA's power systems suddenly came back online.

  She checked the diagnostic readings. All critical systems functioning normally.

  She took a deep breath and smiled. "Good girl."

  Two hours later Hannah sat in the rental boat's main cabin, holding a mask to her face and slowly breathing the pure oxygen needed to treat the ill effects of her rapid ascension…

  Kirov turned from the wheel. "How are you feeling? Still faint?"

  "A little. Funny thing about hyperbaric chambers. There's never one around when you need one."

  "Do you want me to radio for a helicopter?"

  "You'd really do that? It would be pretty hard to hide from Bradworth after drawing that kind of attention."

  "I'd find a way."

  "No need. It's not that severe. I was careful coming up."

  "We should be back at the Aurora by nightfall. I spoke to Captain Tanbury during your ascent, and he says no one is giving him trouble about LISA's absence yet."

  "Good." Hannah pulled a blanket tight around her. "You're right about Pavski-it's not wise to underestimate him. He almost killed me down there."

  "I'm the one he wants dead. Remember, if you hadn't been so stubborn, I would have been with you."