Fast (27 page)

            Coleman was disgusted. Cairns had calmly slaughtered three of his own team. In that second, Coleman knew Cairns was capable of anything. He would stop at nothing to secure the templates.

            Distraction suppressed, Cairns strode back to the plexiglass, his face a mask of impatient resolve. He ignored Coleman and withdrew a small grey block from his fatigues pocket. He pressed the grey block to the plexiglass at Coleman’s eye level.

            Coleman recognized the plastic explosive.

            This was PE4.

            This wasn’t like cutting charge. This would turn the plexiglass into a million pieces of high-velocity shrapnel.

            Cairns pressed a timer into the brick and ran for cover.

            Coleman dashed for the small rear chamber. He had no idea how long the timer was set to detonate. He dove into the smaller room as the plastic explosives blew. Plexiglass shrapnel filled the air inside A-lab. Hundreds of pieces flew through the doorway and embedded into the chamber’s rear wall

            Crouching beside the doorway, sheltered from the projectiles’ trajectory, Coleman reached up and lowered the very last plexiglass barrier on the level.

            They had him.

#

Cairns stepped through the shredded remains of A-lab.

            The Marine had predictably sheltered in the rear chamber. In fact, Cairns had set the timer to allow the Marine enough time to reach the chamber and keep the templates safe. He’d hoped the Marine would lower the plexiglass
before
the PE4 exploded. The air pressure in A-lab would have torn the second barrier from the wall.

            This is a clever one. He knew to lower the hatch
after
the explosion.

            Now Cairns was fresh out of DEMEX cutting charge. He couldn’t risk using his second block of PE4 so close to the templates.

            He approached the barrier and studied the man inside. Soaking wet, the Marine held the genetic material in his left hand and an old colt pistol in his right. His fatigues clung to his strong body. He looked the type that did five hundred push-ups before breakfast. Defiant and determined. The American Special Forces were full of men who never knew when to quit.

            ‘Where to now, little soldier man?’ Cairns taunted loud enough to be heard through the barrier.

            The Marine lifted the templates. ‘I’ll destroy them if you don’t back off.’

            Cairns laughed.
Maybe the Marine isn’t that smart after all. Maybe he’s just been lucky.
‘Of course you won’t. If destroying the templates was an option, you’d have done it already.’

            The Marine spat his answer back. ‘Push me and find out. I’ll do it.’

            Cairns stared at the Marine for a full eight seconds. He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. The condensation from his breath fogged the plexiglass.
Predictable
.

            He drew a shape with his fingertip in the condensation. A circle with a cross inside, the shape of a weapon site lining up perfectly with the Marine’s head.

            With a bored sigh, Cairns waved at the blowtorch trolley. ‘Cut him out.’

#

Coleman saw gunmen ignite the blowtorch.

            The powerful blowtorch began melting the plexiglass like butter.

            He spun and searched the small chamber, some kind of a first-aid station. Glass cabinets filled with medical equipment lined the walls. An open pool hatch occupying half the floor offered the only exit. Coleman couldn’t make the long swim to the saturation chamber on one breath. He was on the opposite side of the level, and gunmen covered every pool hatch.

            Cairns wasn’t taking chances.

            King’s voice crackled over Coleman’s headset. ‘We’re back in the saturation chamber, Captain. We’ve got Vanessa.’

            That’s some good news at least.

            Coleman responded while he frantically searched the room. ‘Protect Vanessa at all costs. She might be about to become the most valuable person alive.’

            Coleman knew what his Marines were thinking, so he put he thought right out of their minds. ‘Don’t try to come back in here. They’re covering every pool with submachine guns. You wouldn’t even make it out of the water. Ask Vanessa if there’s another exit from the first-aid room.’

            A moment’s silence passed while King asked. ‘She says no. No way out except through Cairns.’

            That’s what I thought.

            ‘Copy that,’ replied Coleman. ‘You have your orders.’

            Coleman left his radio on so Third Unit could hear everything. If he was killed, they needed to know so they could move fast with Vanessa.

            Something lying in the back of a cabinet caught Coleman’s eye. Shrapnel had smashed the glass doors, half burying the item.

            Coleman reached into the cabinet. He glanced back to see how much time he had.

            Only seconds….

            The terrorist with the blowtorch kicked the plexiglass.

            Coleman filled his pockets with his work of a few seconds and dove from the cabinet. The plexiglass fell away as he flew through the air. Holding the genetic templates high, he splashed down into the pool.

            Bullets buzzed through the water, peeling off left and right, but he was already too deep, using the genetic material like a diving weight to pull him straight down.

            Reaching the bottom, he started swimming.

#

‘Cease fire!’ ordered Cairns.

            His men churned up the pool’s surface with submachine gunfire. He couldn’t see through the turbulence.

            The room quietened. The surface cleared. Cairns peered down.

            Nothing. The pool was empty.

            Gould came over Cairns’s radio. ‘What’s happening? Do you have the templates?’

            ‘One of the Marines just took the templates underwater,’ replied Cairns curtly, wishing he was holding Gould’s head underwater. ‘Are there any air spaces down there?’

            ‘None. Should I drain the sublevel?’ offered Gould.

            ‘No. He’s either going to drown or come up for a breath and get his head blown off.’

            ‘He’s in here!’ came a shout from A-lab. The gunman watching the pool in A-lab yanked a grenade from his vest.

            ‘Wait!’ yelled Cairns, stalking between the labs. ‘The pressure might ruin the templates. He’ll surface soon enough.’

            Cairns studied the Marine swimming under A-lab. The template case kept him out of range. He swam through A-lab and disappeared under the floor, heading towards the main lab.

            Cairns mirrored his path along the corridor that paralleled the underwater passage.

            He’s a resourceful little bastard. I’ll give him that.

            Swimming in fatigues while carrying the genetic material must have been tortuous. Cairns was surprised he’d made it beyond A-lab.

           
But he has to emerge in the main lab. Right about here.
Cairns drew his pistol as he approached the pool. One shot through the head when the hero emerged.

            It almost seems a shame after all his efforts. Still
….

            He reached the pool edge and knelt beside the water. ‘Where are you, little soldier man?’

            The Marine appeared under Cairns. He reached the middle of the pool and stopped swimming. Now he would either drown or surface.

            Cairns took aim and waited.

#

‘We can’t abandon him,’ Forest insisted. ‘He’ll be toast.’

            Tight lipped, neither Marlin nor King answered. As much as they hated it, the Captain’s orders had been clear.

            At the computer terminal, Vanessa wiped water from her eyes. ‘If anyone can get out of that mess, it’s your Captain. Alex has a ‘B type’ mind.’

            ‘What’s a ‘B type’ mind?’ asked Forest, hungry for hope.

            ‘It’s something he’s done for as long as I’ve known him. Back in the labs, part of his mind was planning the entire time. With everything that was happening, he still ensured we all arrived back here at the same time so I could open the hatch. He was modeling several very complex scenarios in his mind and timing everything simultaneously. That’s a talent of a person with a B type brain. B type brains can process problems and situation extremely fast. In fact, they function
better
in stressful situations. Much better. They have an incredible ability to apply the full force of their mind to a problem. They come up with innovative solutions under pressure and are often the first to react in emergency situations. He’s a born problem solver.’

            ‘That’s the Captain alright,’ agreed Forest, studying Vanessa as she accessed the touch screen.
She should know.

            Her dossier was staggering. Sharp was awarded the Nobel Prize in 2006 for her pioneering bio-survive genetic research. She was one of those child prodigies who finished high school at age twelve and her first PhD at age sixteen. Now, aged thirty-two, she was changing the world with her incredible breakthroughs in hostile environment agriculture. Forest had read some fascinating facts about Vanessa Sharp.
H
In one article, she stated there was only one index of her success as a scientist and a human being. It had nothing to do with international awards or publishing in scientific journals or the respect of her peers. Vanessa Sharp’s personal gauge of success was her affect on the world malnutrition index. Her applied research had reduced worldwide levels of malnutrition by over fifteen percent in the last twenty-four months. That amounted to literally tens of thousands of lives saved.

            It couldn’t have been easy for the Captain to be being married to a genius.

            But she didn’t know everything about Coleman, and it looked like she was only now coming to see what
he
was really good at.

            Third Unit worked hard and played hard. Every member of Third Unit knew the Captain socially. Vanessa might have lived with the man, but Forest knew both sides of Coleman. Outside of work, Coleman was one of the best guys you would ever meet. After a night out he would spend his last buck to send you home in a cab, and then walk home himself. He treated everyone with equal respect, regardless of rank.

            But down-range, on a mission, Coleman became a different person. It was like he was
made
for the job. When Coleman looked at you during a mission, he was seeing numbers - how fast you could run, how accurately you could shoot, how far he could push you before he reached your limits.

            One thing Forest knew: If the Captain told you to jump, you asked him
‘how high?’
while you were in the air if you wanted to live.