The submersible drove him against the concrete. Even at a speed of only a few knots, the Sharkdozer’s sheer mass was enough to make it a crushing impact. The deep suit’s humped fiberglass back split open, an air hose tearing and releasing a surge of bubbles into the water.
But the diver himself was still alive, protected by the suit’s rigid shell. The collision shook him loose from the bumper, leaving him floating as the sub slowly bounced backward. He raised the gun again—
Eddie lunged over Matt’s shoulder and slammed the controls sideways with one hand—and shoved the throttles to full with the other.
The thrusters pivoted in response, the Sharkdozer spinning on the spot. The vulnerable viewport swung away from the diver—and the damaged starboard thruster pod came at him. The exposed screw blades sliced through the water in a vortex of froth—
The submersible juddered, the motor’s whine replaced by a meaty thunk-thunk-thunk before the thruster cut out, clogged. Another red light joined the many already on the instrument panel. Outside, the water also took on a distinctly crimson tint. The rifle slowly spun past, part of a gloved hand still clutching its grip.
“He’s definitely screwed,” said Eddie, breathing heavily.
Nina watched the gun land before focusing on something much closer: the damaged viewport. The crash had extended more of the cracks. “Matt, how long before this thing breaks?”
“No way to know,” Matt admitted, backing the sub away from the expanding red haze. “It might last hours—or it could go in two seconds.”
Eddie counted to two under his breath. “Well, we got past that, so let’s hope it lasts for hours, eh?”
“We’re still fucked even if it holds! We’ve only got one working thruster, so it’ll take even longer to get to the surface, and in about five minutes the air’s going to start going bad.”
“How long can we last?” Nina asked.
“Three of us, in a compartment this size? Maybe ten minutes before we pass out, fifteen at most. Twenty minutes, tops, we’ll be dead from carbon dioxide poisoning.”
Eddie pursed his lips. “No way we can fix the air system?”
“Not from inside.” Matt slumped in his seat. “I don’t want to be the one who has to say this, but … we’re dead.”
“What about the other sub?” said Nina. The Mako’s lights were still shining brightly. “Is there any way we can dock with it?”
The Australian pondered the question, then faint hope entered his voice. “It’s got a standard docking connector, so yeah … but we’d have to get it out from under that girder first.”
Eddie returned to the arm controls. “We got enough power to move it?”
“Have to chance it.”
Matt was about to guide the Sharkdozer toward the pinned sub when Eddie told him to wait. “Just let me get something first …” He worked the remaining arm, extending the undamaged secondary manipulator. “Take us down, over there. I’m going to pick up the gun.”
“What for?” asked his wife.
Eddie nodded at the other submersible. The pilot was visible through its windows, still unconscious. “Just in case we get aboard and he wakes up.” He lowered the arm to the seabed. It took him several attempts, but the steel digits eventually gripped the weapon. “Okay, got it.” He shook off the dead hand, then moved the manipulator above the Sharkdozer and dropped the ASM-DT onto its top hatch with a clank.
Matt brought his injured vessel about and headed for the Mako. For the first time, they got a proper look at their opponent. While designed as a pleasure craft, able to take passengers down to a thousand feet below the surface, this one had been modified for a more aggressive purpose. A rack had been crudely welded to its flank to hold torpedoes, one of which was still in place.
“Bit of a botch-job,” said Matt, scrutinizing the weapon with his engineer’s eye. The torpedo was the underwater equivalent of an improvised explosive device, a length of metal pipe propelled by compressed air. A package of explosives with a simple impact detonator was crammed inside.
“They work well enough,” said Nina, remembering the fate of Hayter’s sub.
“Yeah. Looks like it was put together in a hurry, though.”
“To kill us,” Eddie said. “Or Nina, specifically. It’s this bloke Glas, it’s got to be.”
“But how did he know we were here?” asked Nina.
“Maybe you can ask him when you see him,” said Matt.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s probably around here somewhere. This sub couldn’t have gotten out here on its own—it doesn’t have enough range. It’s got to have a mother ship. So if the pilot’s still alive, he might tell you how to find it—and Glas.”
Eddie clenched his fists. “He’ll tell us.”
“We’ve got to get aboard it first,” Nina reminded him.
Matt moved the sub closer to the trapped craft. “Eddie, let me do that,” he said, taking the manipulator controls. “This might be a bit tricky …”
He nudged the girder with what was left of the main arm. Their sub swayed beneath them. “I was afraid of that—I don’t know if we’ll be able to get enough leverage with only one thruster. Okay, Eddie, you keep it pushed against that beam. I’ll see if I can shift it.”
A tense minute passed as he applied power, the Sharkdozer swinging back and forth as the arm rasped against the girder. The beam slowly ground along the Mako’s hull. “Come on, a bit more,” said Eddie. “We can do it!”
“I’m giving it all she’s got!”
A shrill screech echoed through the water as the arm slipped, gouging a foot-long scratch out of the rusting metal. Eddie choked back an expletive, trying to hold the manipulator in place. The girder was still moving, inch by inch, but he didn’t know if it was enough …
The thruster’s whine fluctuated. “We’re losing power!” Matt cried. “Eddie, push it!”
Last chance—
Eddie shoved the arm forward. The Sharkdozer lurched—then the girder came free, scraping noisily over the Mako before dropping off its stern to whump down on the silt and wreckage below.
The Sharkdozer drifted to a stop alongside the other sub. “Okay, but we’re not done yet,” said Matt. “We need to lift it up so we can dock with its bottom hatch.”
“But there’s another hatch on the top, right there,” said Eddie.
“Yeah, but we’ve only got a topside hatch, and I don’t think the ’dozer’ll take kindly to being turned upside down in the state she’s in! There’s a crane hook on its top—if you can grab it, we should be able to lift it. It’s neutrally buoyant, so it’ll stay put once we’ve moved it. I hope.”
Another precious minute passed as Eddie, craning to see through the viewport, tried to get hold of the hook. Finally, it seemed to be secured. Matt checked the status of the air supply, grimaced, and with a mutter of “Better get on with it, then,” powered up the thruster again.
The arm creaked and strained, but held. In a swirl of sand, the conjoined vessels slowly rose …
A new alarm sounded, a mournful, pulsing honk. “Oh God, what now?” moaned Nina.
“We’re on emergency power,” said Matt. “If you hear that, it means if you’re not on the surface in five minutes, you’re not getting there at all!”
“You built this bloody thing,” said Eddie. “Couldn’t you have used a less annoying alarm noise?”
Matt huffed and switched it off. “Next one I build’ll have songbirds and heavenly choirs, just for you. If I get the chance.” He looked down through the viewport. They were now about twenty feet above the ground. “Okay, that’ll have to do.”
Eddie released the arm, and Matt took the sub back down, inching it sideways to move beneath the Mako as it hung motionless in the water. The spotlights picked out its ventral docking port. “Okay, here we go.” He switched one of the monitors to show a view looking directly upward from their own hatch. “Just got to line it up properly …”
�
�Can we do anything to help?” asked Nina.
“Yeah—wait by the hatch, and when I tell you, pull the yellow lever down as far as it’ll go. That’ll lock the docking clamps. Soon as they’re secure, I can drain the collar and we should be able to open the other sub’s hatch.”
There was an edge to his voice that suggested he was far more worried about the operation than he was letting on. “Matt, is something wrong?”
“There’s a lot of things wrong!” On the screen, the Mako’s hatch came in sight. He slowed to line up with it. “You just get ready on that lever.”
Eddie and Nina exchanged concerned looks but moved to the hatch as requested. The Sharkdozer stopped beneath the other vessel. “Okay, it’s lined up. Here we go …”
A brief blip of the throttle, and the Sharkdozer wobbled upward. A shrill of metal against metal was overpowered by a louder thunk that reverberated through the hull. More power, then: “Pull it!”
Eddie and Nina grabbed the lever and hauled on it with all their combined weight. It moved a few inches—then jammed. “Matt!” Nina shouted. “It’s stuck!”
Matt didn’t reply, eyes fixed on the monitor. He turned the sub a few degrees before sharply bringing it upward. The vessel shook with another impact. “Now!”
This time, the lever moved all the way. A dull clunk came from above the hatch as the clamps locked into place, holding both submersibles tightly together. Matt gasped. “Ah, Christ! I wasn’t sure that was going to work.”
“Now he tells us!” said Nina, releasing her own sigh of relief.
A loud hiss of compressed air as the water was forced out told them that the docking collar was clear. Matt double-checked a gauge to make sure the seal was holding, then cautiously unlocked the hatch and pushed it open. Nina jumped as seawater gushed over the edge of the opening, but it was merely the last undrained dregs. Matt raised the hatch higher. The ASM-DT clattered down into the crew compartment, Eddie catching the rifle before it hit the deck.
The Mako’s belly hatch was visible at the top of the docking collar, cold drips falling from the white-painted steel. “Can we get in?” Nina asked. “Is it locked?”
Matt climbed the ladder and pulled the other hatch’s release latch before turning the wheel to unseal it. “Submarine theft’s not exactly an everyday problem, so no.”
“Just because you saved our lives, that doesn’t give you the right to be a smart-ass.” But she managed to smile at him.
He opened the hatch. There was a rush of air as the two vessels equalized their internal pressures. Matt was about to ascend the second ladder when Eddie stopped him. “Better let me go first,” he said, holding up the gun. “Just in case.”
He clambered up, stopping below the top of the shaft and peering warily into the cabin. No movement. Gun ready, he climbed the rest of the way.
The only sound was the low hum of the ventilation system. The cabin was almost infinitely more luxuriously appointed than the Sharkdozer’s pure utilitarianism, leather loungers arranged to give each passenger a view through a personal porthole. But Eddie’s eyes were fixed on one seat in particular: the pilot’s.
Its back was to him, but he could see an arm hanging limply over one side. Fixing the gun on the chair, he advanced to find the pilot alive, but out cold, face bloodied.
One of the monitors, he noticed, showed what looked like a navigation chart. At its center was what he took to be the Mako’s current position, a red line weaving away from it. A record of its course?
“Is it safe?” Nina called, head poking over the top of the hatchway like Kilroy.
“Yeah,” Eddie answered. He jabbed the pilot with the rifle. The man moaned faintly. Nina ascended, followed by Matt. “Matt, what do you make of this?” He pointed at the map screen.
“It’s an inertial navigation system.”
“Is that line its route?”
The Australian took a closer look at the display. “Yeah, it came from …” He looked back at Eddie. “The start point’s less than four kilometers from here! And it’s not on the surface—there’s a depth tracker as well. The mother ship’s another submarine.”
“A sub that keeps smaller subs inside it?” Nina asked, skeptical. “Does anyone even make submarines like that? We’re not in a Bond movie!”
“Yeah, they exist. If a mega-yacht’s not showy enough for you, there are companies that build them—if you’ve got the money. There’s the Phoenix 1000, and I know that a Russian firm had a couple on the stocks a few years ago.”
“Glas would have the money,” said Eddie.
“Maybe,” said Nina. “But what do we do now?”
“We should get you back to the surface,” said Matt. He headed down the cabin.
“Where are you going?” Eddie asked.
“Got to detach the Sharkdozer, mate! It’s way too big and heavy for this thing to drag along.” He dropped into the other submersible.
Again, Nina picked up on something in his voice—a forced lightness, cheer covering concern—and this time Eddie noticed it too. “Matt, what’re you doing?” he called as metallic clunks came from below. He and his wife exchanged worried looks, then rushed for the docking port. “Matt!”
They reached it just in time to see the Sharkdozer’s hatch slam shut. The latches closed. “Christ, what’s he up to?” Eddie said, jumping down. He tried to reopen the hatch; the handle moved fractionally before sticking. The Australian had wedged it with something. He thumped a fist on the steel. “Matt!”
Matt’s voice crackled from the Sharkdozer’s underwater PA system. “Sorry, mate, but I’ve got to do this. The only way I can release the docking clamps is from in here—and the moment I do, the collar will flood. So you need to shut that hatch so you can get out of here.”
“No!” said Nina in horror. “We can’t leave you! There—there’s got to be another way!”
“There isn’t. Like I said, the Mako can’t haul this thing with it.”
“But you’ll …” Her breath caught. “Matt, you’ll die.”
“Not necessarily. I got a load of fresh air in here when we docked, and since there’s only one person aboard now, it might last long enough for me to reach the surface.”
“Bullshit!” said Eddie. “You said it was about to run out of power!” He yanked at the handle again, but it still refused to move.
“For Christ’s sake,” Matt said, “will you two listen to me and do what I tell you for once? Someone has to release the clamps from in here. The Sharkdozer’s my sub, I designed it—and now I’ve found out that not having a remote release is kind of a serious design flaw! So, ah … it’s my responsibility.”
“No way.” Eddie started to climb back into the Mako. “I’ll wake up that twat in the driver’s seat and make him do it.”
“Yeah? How’s that going to work? You going to threaten to shoot him through a thick steel hatch?” A resigned sigh came through the speaker. “Eddie, you’re a great mate, but you’re really not as smart as you think you are.”
Eddie stopped. “Would you have ever said that to my face?”
“Why do you think I waited until there was a thick steel hatch between us?” Both men were trying to sound jocular, but their attempts fell very flat.
“Matt, please,” begged Nina. “You can’t do this.”
“If I don’t, none of us’ll get out of this. So please, just … just shut the hatch.” A tremble entered his voice. “I’m going to release the clamps in twenty seconds, so if you don’t want to get very wet, that’s how long you’ve got.”
“You can’t—”
“Nina, I have to. You never know, maybe the batteries will last, maybe the dome’ll hold up. There’s always a chance. Hey, I’ve survived everything else I’ve been through with you, right?” The last few words were almost choked by barely contained emotion.
Nina’s feelings were more open, tears running down her face. “Oh God, Matt …” With deep reluctance, she put her hands against the hatch and began to pu
sh it shut.
Eddie joined her. “This is wrong,” he muttered, face tight. “It’s fucking wrong.”
“Twenty,” came the Australian’s voice over the intercom. “Nineteen. Eighteen …”
The hatch closed with a hollow bang, muffling Matt’s countdown. Eddie stonily closed the latch mechanism and turned the wheel to seal it. A red light on the cabin wall turned green.
Both hatches were secured.
They faintly heard Matt say “Ten,” followed after a pause by “Well. No point dragging it out, eh? Good luck to you both.”
Nina gripped Eddie’s wrist with one hand, the other clenched into a fist over her mouth. “Good luck, Matt,” she whispered.
Eddie’s voice was barely louder. “Fight to the end, mate.”
Metal scraped below—then the Mako shook as water slammed against the bottom of the hatch. The Sharkdozer had separated, the ocean surging back into the docking collar.
Trailing bubbles, the stricken submersible drifted away into the darkness.
TWENTY-FIVE
The Mako’s pilot slowly woke to a throbbing pain across his face.
A mushy splat of blood on the control panel revealed the cause. What had happened? Memories groggily returned. He had been chasing the IHA sub, about to unleash the last torpedo—then it had unexpectedly angled upward, and …
The rest was a blur. Something had hit the Mako, throwing him forward in his seat … then nothing. He had been knocked out. But he thought he had heard voices. How was that possible?
He squinted through the windows. No sign of the other sub—or the diver who had been with him. But something wasn’t right.
It took him a few seconds to work out what. There were reflections in the Plexiglas … of people behind him.
He spun his chair around in alarm—to find the menacing barrel of an ASM-DT pointing at him. It fired, the single shot earsplitting in the confined space. A nail round stabbed into the seat between his legs, the metal spike less than an inch from his groin.
The man holding the gun gave him a nasty look. “If you don’t do exactly what I tell you, the next one turns your bollocks into a shish kebab.”
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