Undersea Prison (40 page)

Zack faced the panel and turned several wheels that allowed water to flood the short corridor between the outer and inner doors. One of the guards watched through a small glass porthole in the door. When the corridor was full Zack operated a gas-activated mechanism. There was a series of loud clunks and then the barge jolted heavily. This was followed by the sound of creaking as if the barge was stretching. Another massive jolt suddenly shook the vessel. Many of those inside feared that it signalled a disaster about to happen. A long silence followed, broken only by the gentle hissing of gas. One side of the barge started to rise and the water under the decking rushed to the opposite row of benches, drenching the legs of those sitting there. Zack secured himself into a seat as the barge levelled out before rising up on the other side. This time those sitting on the other row got a soaking.The entire barge creaked and groaned as the outside pressure reduced.

Zack stared at the main depth gauge on the panel. The needle dropped from the fifty-metre mark and speedily made its way to the forty-metre marker.

 

Stratton walked into the hospital to find Christine crouched over Doctor Mani who was lying on the floor on his back. Durrani was on his side not far away and Stratton went directly to him. He turned the Afghan over to make two immediate discoveries. First, the cut in his abdomen was open and the tablet had obviously been removed. Second: the man was dead.

Stratton looked at Mani who was barely conscious. Blood seeped from the dressing that both he and Christine were holding against his gut.

‘We have to get out of here,’ Stratton shouted above the sound of the klaxons.

Christine did not respond. Her hands were trembling and only then did Stratton notice in the poor light that her face was badly bruised. Her eyes were glazed and staring ahead as if she was looking at nothing.

‘Hey,’ he said in a softer voice as he touched her shoulder.

She snapped a look at him, her eyes filled with anger.

He held her gaze, trying to appear sympathetic. ‘Let me take over,’ he said, putting his hand on the dressing, hoping the offer might signal his friendship.

The gesture appeared to have the desired effect. Her expression softened as if she had returned from wherever she’d been and her eyes flickered as they moistened. Stratton felt for a pulse in Mani’s neck. The doctor’s heart was beating rapidly, along with his breathing. The man was slipping away as his blood flowed from his body. He would not last long without a massive blood transfusion and surgery to close the internal injury.The journey to the escape barge would kill him even if Stratton could carry him all the way there. ‘Can you hear me?’ he asked him.

Mani’s eyes flickered open and he looked at Stratton like a child waking up to find his father there, happy to see him. ‘Is it bad?’ he asked.

‘You’ve lost a lot of blood,’ Stratton said.

‘I thought so.’

‘Did you take anything from the Afghan’s belly? Was it you who opened him up?’ Stratton asked.

A frown grew on Mani’s brow as he fought to collect his thoughts. He smiled. ‘It was very small,’ he said. Then he had a sudden thought: ‘Was he a spy?’

Christine began to take an interest in the odd conversation.

‘Where is it?’ Stratton asked.

Mani started to slip away, his eyes glazing over.

‘Doc . . . Is it here, in this room?’ Stratton persisted.

Mani struggled to hold on to consciousness. ‘Mandrick has it,’ he gasped. ‘I gave it to Mandrick . . .’

It was his last word. The air left his lungs and his muscles relaxed.

Stratton got to his feet, fighting to retrieve the map of the prison in his memory and see the warden’s escape pod on it.

Christine withdrew her bloody hands, unsure where to wipe them. As she got to her feet she realised that Stratton’s clothes were soaked through.At the same time it became apparent to her that the cacophony of alarms was not inside her head but was real.‘What’s happening?’ she asked.

‘We need to get out of here.’

She didn’t move, wanting to know more. She was stubborn by nature and did not follow others easily, regardless of how obvious the reasons might be.

‘The prison’s flooding. Everyone’s evacuating. If we hurry we might make it to the escape barges.’

Christine did not need any more information. Together she and Stratton hurried out of the hospital. When they reached the steps leading down to the main corridor, Christine paused in horror as if she had not quite believed what she’d been told. ‘What happened?’ she asked as she caught up with Stratton and entered the water, which was thick with debris and seaweed.

‘This is what you get when you play with electricity,’ he said as he waded ahead of her through thousands of assorted ration packs and plastic cutlery.

 

Hank Palmerston made his way up the final stairway to level one and along a poorly lit corridor. At the end of it, around a slight bend, he saw Mandrick pulling on a wetsuit. The scene was illuminated by a bright halogen light from inside the hatch of a sophisticated escape pod, its interior the size of a Smart car.

‘Taking your time, Mandrick?’ Hank called out as he approached.

Mandrick was surprised to see the CIA man but he quickly composed himself and zipped up the front of the suit. ‘I’m in no great hurry,’ he said, picking up his waterproof bag.

‘This all your doing?’ Hank said, closing the gap between them.

‘I have to take the credit.’

‘How’d you do it, cutting the power and bypassing all the safety procedures?’

‘I used a virus program. It was far more effective than I expected. Cost me five hundred dollars from a hacker in Moscow. Well worth the investment.’

‘So how’s it all work from here? I’m curious. I mean, soon as you pop to the surface you’ll get picked up along with everyone else. My boys’ll be waiting for you when you open the hatch.’

‘Forgive me if I sound smug but I had thought of that. This is a very sophisticated pod. It doesn’t have to be on the surface to decompress. I can do it right here without leaving the dock. Like every good captain I’ll be the last to leave my sinking ship.’

‘Then in your own sweet time you’ll float up to the surface - during the night, I expect.’

‘A calculable risk.’

‘Sink the pod and swim ashore,’ Hank said, stepping closer while deciding on the best way to take Mandrick down.

‘I think I can make it by daylight - or be well out of the area, at least.’

‘I suppose you have enough to buy a nice little house in some far-flung corner of the globe?’

‘A nice
big
house, actually.’ Mandrick held up his waterproof bag. ‘But you’re right. I should get a nice little one at first - low profile and all that.’

‘If we don’t find a body, Mandrick, we won’t stop looking for you.’

‘That has been my biggest concern. But luck clearly favours the bold. At the very last moment - less than an hour ago, in fact - I believe I found myself a little insurance.’

‘What kind of insurance?’

‘To be honest I’m not entirely sure. Something we found stitched inside the gut of one of your Afghans - the one you interrogated about the helicopter he shot down . . . Durrani. Yes, I do listen to your interrogations. ’ Mandrick opened the waterproof bag, removed his minicomputer and lifted the flap to reveal the small card. ‘I suspect it’s what Gann believed Charon was after. It must be valuable . . . if not to the CIA then to someone else. It’ll become clear once I find out what it is. It’s going to be fun. Maybe it’ll give me something to do during those long evenings in front of a cosy log fire. Or perhaps I’ll go for the moonlit beach. I haven’t made up my mind yet.’

‘So do you wanna make a deal - right now?’ Hank took a step closer, trying to figure his way through this. Mandrick was far too confident and since he’d told him the essence of his plan it suggested that he did not believe Hank would get out of the doomed prison alive. Hank only had one weapon to stack a fight in his favour.

‘You’re not in a position to make any deals. Besides, there’s only room for one in this pod. Sorry.’

Hank let his hand fall by his side. He still had the heavy crank key. He held it like a club and moved forward to close the gap between himself and Mandrick even further. ‘You ain’t going anywhere, my friend.’

Mandrick took the pistol from the bag and aimed it at him.

Hank stopped in his tracks. This was the closest to checkmate that he had ever been. He’d had a gun pointed at him before, but not by someone like Mandrick. He knew Mandrick’s background. He’d been one of the South African’s selectors. Hank took a step back and dropped the crank key. ‘OK. You win. Get on your way. I won’t try and stop you . . . We’ll finish this some other time - if I ever get out of here, which is probably a long shot by now.’

‘Sorry about this, Hank. But we’ll have to finish it now.You might get lucky.’ Mandrick pulled the trigger.

The sound of the shot was deafening in the small rock corridor. Hank staggered back, dropped to his knees, felt his chest and looked at the blood on his hands in disbelief.

‘Look at it this way,’ Mandrick said. ‘I’m doing you a favour.You’d probably end up suffocating to death in some black freezing-cold air pocket all alone. It’s better this way.’

Hank looked into Mandrick’s eyes as he struggled to breathe. Mandrick pulled the trigger again and this round went through Hank’s head, killing him instantly.

Mandrick placed the bag into the pod, paused to check that he had everything and climbed through the narrow opening. Halfway in he turned onto his back and with barely enough room to manoeuvre he sat up, grabbed the edge of a door that had a small glass peep-hole in it and swung it shut. He pushed down a lever and twisted it, securing the door before shuffling further back into the pod. He heaved himself into a comfortable bucket seat, a line of air bottles to one side and a small operations panel with various dials and gauges in front of him.

Leaning back, Mandrick pulled down the inner hatch, locked the seal and looked up at a waterproof instruction pamphlet attached to the bulkhead above him. He read the first-stage instructions and compared an illustration with the various valves and levers surrounding him. To begin the decompression sequence he pressed a button, starting a small electrical pump that began to remove gas from the pod to reduce the inside pressure.

Stratton and Christine hurried past the access tunnel that led down to level five and the mine beyond and found the stairs further on that connected to the upper levels. When they reached the top Stratton stopped on a long gantry that headed in two directions. He pointed to his left. ‘Head down that way. Follow the arrows to the escape barges. Good luck.’ He moved off in the opposite direction.

‘Where’re you going?’ Christine called out. She started to follow him.

He stopped, frustrated by her obstinacy. ‘You’re the type that never does as she’s told, aren’t you?’

‘I like to know what’s going on, yes. Why aren’t you heading for the escape barges?’

Stratton gritted his teeth in irritation. ‘I need to get what I came down here for. Now you know. Go.’

Christine grabbed hold of his arm as he turned to move away. ‘Maybe I don’t trust you. There’s no cause worth dying for. Maybe you know of another way out of here.’

‘It just so happens that could be true. I also think your chances are better if you go for the barges - that way.’ Stratton pulled away and continued along the gantry. When he looked back she was still following him. He stopped and raised his hands to the heavens. ‘What is your
problem
, woman? What is it that you are so stupidly suspicious about that you’re prepared to die to find out?’

‘Tell me where you’re going and I’ll leave you be.’

He looked into the young woman’s eyes. Her expression was still determined.Time was running out. ‘I have to find Mandrick. OK? Goodbye.’ He hurried along the gangway and around a corner to a narrow staircase that led up. As he reached for the rail he realised she was still behind him. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.You said you wouldn’t follow if I told you where I was going.’

‘I didn’t know you were going after Mandrick.’

‘Go away,’ Stratton said with a harshness of tone that unnerved her.

‘I can’t,’ Christine said, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. ‘I want to escape. I’m scared. If it wasn’t for you I’d be running like a jackrabbit to the barges. My mission now is about getting to Mandrick too. But you’re not running away.You’re not scared. Maybe you know something I don’t, maybe I’m all wrong about you but I don’t think so. You’re charging headlong into the fight with the battlements falling down around you. I always dreamed I would be like that if it ever came down to it, but I’m not. Not without you.’

‘You want to work together on this?’

‘Yes,’ she said, gritting her teeth.

‘Then go hold one of the barges. I’ll get Mandrick and drag his sorry arse back and we can both have him.’

Stratton ran up the steps, leaving Christine watching him, her glare turning downright acid.

When he disappeared at the top she looked around at the crumbling prison. Sea water was cascading down walls, the dim emergency lights were flickering, the klaxons were fading as the emergency power grew weaker. In stark contrast a jaunty computerised voice announced the time. Remaining there a single minute more was madness.

Stratton scurried along the narrow corridor and as he turned the corner he saw Hank lying on his back, his eyes open, blood trailing from a hole in his head. Stratton moved past him to the watertight door at the end of the tunnel and he peered through the small porthole.

‘We’re too late,’ Christine said, standing over Hank.

Stratton continued looking through the porthole. He considered ignoring her but decided that was clearly a waste of time. ‘Yes and no,’ he said. ‘The pod’s still attached.’