The Victoria Stone

by Bob Finley

  "I should have sunk that thing as soon as I saw it!" he said out loud.

  "I’m sorry," was all Justin could think of.

  Strickland drew a deep breath and exhaled long and slow. "Yeah. So am I." He looked at Marc. "Well," he finally said, "I'm just as guilty as anybody else for lettin’ him get away. So. Now what?"

  "I have a message for you," Marc offered.

  "A message? For me? Who from?"

  "Somebody who calls himself ‘Mr. Coventry’."

  Strickland was instantly wary and menacing. His eyes narrowed and he leaned slightly toward Marc.

  "What do you know about…Coventry?"

  "I'd say he's your control...right?"

  "And just how did you happen, in the middle of all this, to have a little conversation with him? Hmm?"

  "I called him on the short wave radio from the penthouse. I talked to him and to the Captain of the Washington."

  "Did you, now? And this ‘Coventry’ gave you a message to give to me?"

  "Yes."

  "What is it?" Strickland got a little more in Marc's face.

  "John 19:30."

  Strickland's eyes went wide for just a moment. Then the veil dropped again. He stood watching Marc's face for several seconds. Then he turned and walked to the door of the computer room.

  "Alright. We're a wrap. Let's shoot the wounded and eat the dead."

  Marc's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe what he'd heard.

  Strickland paused just inside the door and turned slightly to look back at Justin. His lips pulled back into what could have been a smile.

  "Gotcha," he said.

  Justin breathed again.

  "You ain't lyin’," he admitted.

  Strickland motioned toward the cavern with his head. "Get outta’ here. We'll see you on the other side."

  "Hey!" Marc called as Strickland turned away. He turned back.

  "Yeah."

  "What’s it mean? John 19:30?"

  Strickland inclined his head to one side before he answered. "It means, ‘It is finished,’ you heathen.” He didn’t wait this time.

  Marc, remembering Janese Cramerton crouched, waiting, on the other side, didn’t wait either. He turned and got a running start in the tunnel, before hitting the catwalk at full speed. Maybe he'd get lucky and catch the guards by surprise a second time.

  He needn't have worried. As he ran, he glanced down and saw that the water had reached all the way to the wall now and had to be at least three feet deep. When he finally began taking fire, it seemed to be coming from the steps that led up from the cavern to the sleeping quarters. That could only mean that the guards had taken refuge on the steps to avoid the rising water. He’d finally figured out why the cavern was flooding, At least it was keeping the guards busy. There was a quick succession of sharp explosions somewhere behind him but it didn't seem like a good time to be sightseeing.

  He’d crossed half the cavern and was out of sight of the guards when he saw them. At first, he couldn’t believe it. Banner. And Janese. On the catwalk.

  He slowed to a walk, but kept moving toward them. They were only fifteen yards or so away now. Banner stood behind Janese, his left arm wrapped tightly around her neck. They were both facing him and she made an effective shield, even for the overlarge body behind her.

  He got within twenty feet before Banner raised his right arm. He was holding his gun. The .45 he given Janese for protection. Some protection.

  "Marc, I’m sorry...I didn't know he..."

  "Shut up," Banner said, jerking his left arm tighter and cutting her off in mid-sentence. He had her standing on tip-toe.

  Marc held up a hand toward her.

  "It's okay. Take it easy. Everything's gonna be alright," he assured her.

  Banner barked, his equivalent of a laugh. His lips pulled back into a cruel grimace.

  "Don't listen to him, missy. He's lyin’ to ya’."

  "What do you want, Banner?" Justin asked as calmly as he could.

  "Ain’t but a coupla' things worth wantin’ in this hell hole anymore, is it, now?"

  "Like what?"

  Banner swayed slightly and his eyes closed for a couple of seconds. Marc was already in motion when his eyes popped open again and Banner thrust the gun at him.

  "Uh-uhhhh," he warned. "Not if you want this pretty little thing to live."

  "You said there’s two things you want, Banner. What are they?" Banner smiled, but it was weak.

  "Money. And a way outta’ here."

  "Money? What money?"

  "Diamonds. That bag o' diamonds back in yonder. You’re gonna help me get ‘em. And you’re gonna help me get outta here. Or this one dies. You, too."

  "I don't care if you have the diamonds. But, how do you figure I'm going to get you out of here? I don't even know how, or if, we’re going to be able to get out of here."

  "You're lyin’, boy. You got a way out, and you're takin’ me with you."

  "Banner. Look down there." Marc pointed over the side of the catwalk. "You see that water? The whole cavern's flooded. In a few minutes, anybody down there who can’t swim is gonna drown! Now, how do you think I'm gonna get you out of here?"

  "You got that ship! Don't try to jive me! You got the ship, and I’ve got her! Now, what’s it gonna be? Huh?"

  As he shifted his sweaty grip on Janese, a major tremor hit and the catwalk lurched and swung wildly toward the wall. Janese dropped to her hands and knees and Banner made a grab for the railing with his left hand.

  "Run, Janese! Run!!" Marc yelled and simultaneously let the forward momentum of the catwalk propel him toward Banner. He slammed into the big man, inadvertently ramming his lowered head directly into the bullet wound. Banner gasped in pain, staggered, and grabbed for the other railing, dropping his gun in the process.

  Janese managed to grab hold of both railings and, swaying uncertainly, head in the direction of the penthouse porch.

  Justin butted Banner in the face as hard as he could with the top of his own head, bringing blood gushing from what must surely be a broken nose for Banner. But the big Sergeant was at home in a street fight, and had the instincts of a bull dog. He grabbed for Justin just as another shock rocked the cavern. This time, half the supports that held the catwalk to the roof tore from their moorings and the catwalk began to collapse, section by section. Pieces separated from each other and swung down, pendulum-like, back and forth until their support cables finally gave way and the heavy metal sections fell, end over end, to splash into the sea surging eighty feet below. Janese barely made it to the porch when the ‘moat’ fell away, snapping wire supports and fiber optic cable as it went, leaving a twenty foot span of nothing between her and the two men fighting on the catwalk. Her shouts went unheeded in the heat of battle and the cacophony of shrieking metal and crashing superstructure.

  Banner dived in Marc’s direction and, as luck would have it, the swaying of the catwalk literally threw him on top of the smaller man. But Banner also whacked his head on one of the supports and knocked himself nearly unconscious. Marc struggled in the narrow confines of the walkway to get out from under the heavy weight but couldn't quite get clear. Their combined weights, suspended from already straining cables, was too much. The cables at the penthouse end ripped loose from the ceiling and that end of the catwalk suddenly dropped six feet, the middle cables and the far end cables barely holding it in place. When the end dropped, Banner's body began to slide in that direction. But the sensation of falling must have revived him, because he made a lunging grab and wrapped his arms around Marc's knees. Marc quickly reached on both sides of himself and got a death grip on the vertical metal supports of the catwalk’s sides.

  Banner's body dropped free of the catwalk. The only thing keeping him from falling was the grip he had on Justin’s legs. Marc couldn’t kick him loose because of the grip the man had around his knees. And he couldn't reach down to pry him loose because if he took even one hand off the railing supports, he knew he wouldn't be able
to hold on any more. He felt the pain of their combined weights cutting into his fingers, fingers that were frozen to the railings in desperation. But he was getting weaker by the second. He raised his head and looked down. Banner had his head tilted back, looking straight at him. His eyes were wild and desperate. Pleading. He could feel the claws of death digging deeper into his pain-wracked body with each passing second. They both knew the end was near. Somebody had to let go.

  Justin could feel his fingers begin to slip. He raised his head once more to look at Banner. As he did so, a hole appeared in the middle of the man's forehead. His eyes rolled back and his grip loosened. And then he wasn't there anymore. Marc rolled his head to his right and looked up. There, in the ceiling superstructure, just a dozen feet away, was Strickland. A thin curl of smoke wafted from the barrel of his Beretta. He holstered it matter-of-factly, shook loose a coil of rope, and tossed one end over to Justin.

  "Here. Slip this around you," he said, and resumed his climb toward the penthouse, holding on to the other end.

  Justin got one leg up and braced it against the railing so he could free one hand and wrap the rope around himself, using his teeth and the free hand to tie a rescue knot.

  "Once an Eagle Scout, always an Eagle Scout," he reminded himself.

  Another tremor struck as the TRAP team was clambering down onto the penthouse porch. Some of them moved inside. Two stayed to help Strickland with Marc. The section to which he clung lost one of its middle cables, and the whole ten-foot piece tilted sideways and swung precariously in a wide arc, threatening to throw him off each time it spun.

  Strickland whipped the other end of the rope around the railing of the porch and yelled above the noise, "Let go!"

  "That’s easy for you to say," Justin called back.

  "The next time you swing this way, hang on to the rope and slide off the platform. Use your feet to brace the impact against the wall. Okay? Get ready! NOW!!"

  Marc did as he was told, a pretty strong act of faith for a heathen, he later told Strickland. But he spun in mid-air and hit hard and shoulder first against the wall. He managed to hold it to a grunt and a groan. The three men above made short work of hauling him up and pulling him over the railing. Janese ducked inside as soon as she saw him clear the railing.

  "What about the guards?" Justin managed to ask.

  "Don’t worry about them," one of Strickland's men said conversationally, picking up his Uzi from the grated floor where he’d stashed it while he helped rescue Marc. "We fragged ‘em when we left the computer room. They were right under us. The rest of ‘em...whoever’s left of ‘em...are holed up in that passageway at the top of the steps over there."

  "Fragged?"

  "Fragmentation grenades. They discourage group discussion." The man smiled at his own black humor.

  "Uh-huh. And guaranty the right to a speedy trial."

  "My sentiments exactly." They turned to join the others inside the penthouse but turned back at the sound of yelling in the distance. Off to the left a small group of people was splashing furiously toward them through the waist-deep water. The soldier beside him quickly swung his weapon around to bear on the group, but Justin just as swiftly grabbed his arm.

  "No! That's the rest of our group! The rest of the hostages, remember?"

  "What are they doin’ down there?"

  Marc looked around and remembered the elevator. "I don't know, but I've got to go help them. Can you keep the guards off me?"

  "I gotcha covered. But, hurry up!" He knelt down and took aim at the tunnel entrance more than thirty yards across the cavern.

  He was talking to himself. Justin already had the elevator dropping toward the flooded floor far below.

  Chapter 98

  Kim and Wojecki couldn't believe their eyes when they finally managed to dodge their way from pillar to post and arrived near the edge of the pool. The VIKING that they'd had to look down on yesterday was now almost even with them at the waterline. But that wasn't the worst news. They could actually see the water rising. In some places along the edge the pool had already overflowed and was running in narrow rivers across the floor, heading deeper into the cavern.

  "All this is because the air pressure’s dropping?" Wojecki asked incredulously.

  Kim shook his head. "I don’t think so. I think it’s got something to do with these earthquakes we’ve been having. I mean, yeah, the air pressure’s dropping because the compressor upstairs is most likely broken. But, think about it. Every time there's a ‘quake, it probably opens up more seams and weakens the whole structure."

  "So, we’ve got, like, a tire with a bunch of little holes in it."

  "Something like that. Except, I think the holes are getting bigger. And a whole lot faster."

  "What’s gonna happen?" Wojecki asked as reality dawned on him. "We gonna blow up, or what?"

  "Well...according to Frank, and he’s been right so far...the volcano could erupt, or the plug up in the ceiling could shake loose and fall in. Or both."

  "Shouldn’t we get outta here, then? Like, right now?!"

  Kim looked around at the other man. The question and the comical look on his face made Kim laugh aloud, in spite of the grave situation.

  "Yeah. I think we should," he said, still smiling.

  "So, what have we gotta do?"

  Kim looked at the VIKING. "We’ve got to get the lines off her," he nodded in the direction of the ship. "She’s our only hope of getting out of here."

  "What do you want me to do?" Cy asked.

  "Nothing yet. Hang on." Kim reached behind his back and withdrew something from his waistband.

  "That’s the communicator we built, isn’t it?"

  "Yep. But now it’s my way of talking to the ship." He switched it on and began tapping a keypad. Wojecki watched closely over his shoulder.

  "What are you telling it?"

  "Watch." Kim finished the message and hit the SEND key. A couple of seconds later, there was the sound of rushing water and the VIKING slowly began to move toward them.

  "Hey! It's moving!"

  "I hope so," Kim murmured.

  The VIKING, which had been on standby status since the night Kim and Wojecki sneaked aboard, responded to his instructions by using the port maneuvering thrusters to slide the big ship sideways in their direction. Gradually the distance narrowed until she was just twenty feet from the almost submerged edge of the pool. Kim typed in another short message and the thrusters stopped. The VIKING continued to drift toward them until she was just eight feet away. Then the starboard thrusters kicked and stopped her momentum. He typed in another, longer message and sent it.

  "Now she’ll use the wall of the pool as a reference point and hover right where she is."

  "Ha! Just like telling a dog to ‘SIT’," Wojecki said, excited.

  Kim looked sideways at him and frowned. "Something like that," he grudgingly acknowledged.

  "What’s next?"

  "Next," Kim answered, "I'm going to shinny up this line and cut her loose from her moorings. Otherwise, if the water keeps rising, pretty soon the lines will tighten up and try to drag her down. What you're going to do is watch my back and keep anybody from shooting me off these lines. Okay?"

  "You got it, bro’." Wojecki immediately moved off to a better spot from which he could cover the cavern.

  Kim looked after him a moment. "Bro’?" he said to himself. "I must be living a sheltered life."

  Kim was, of course, halfway up the rope when the ‘quake hit. The water in the basin heaved, the VIKING rolled, and Kim fell the ten feet back into the pool with a loud splash. When he surfaced and wiped the water from his eyes, the edge of the pool was gone and so was Wojecki. Even from his perspective in the water next to the ship, he could see the back side of what looked like a tidal wave rolling away from him. He realized that the ocean must have come gushing up the tunnel below him and welled out into the cavern in a massive rush. Then he realized that the VIKING’s side thrusters were having to work t
o keep the big ship on station with what used to be the edge of the pool in which it rested. Somebody came sloshing from around one of the structural support beams, carrying a rifle over his head. It was Wojecki.

  "Man," he shouted, "that was worse than getting’ stomped by the surf down at the beach! I never even saw it comin’!"

  "Stay there!" Kim warned. "The water must all of a sudden be another four feet deeper and you might walk off the edge into the pool." Wojecki stopped and stared.

  "I thought you were going to get the..."

  "I am, I am!" Kim stopped him and swam a couple of strokes to reach one of the lines that were now trailing in the water. Grabbing it, he overhanded up a ways, then got his feet braced on the side of the ship and pulled himself, walking, up the rest of the way."

  "You watching the guards?" he called down from topside.

  "Oh, yeah," Wojecki remembered and turned to face the other side of the cavern. "I’m not sure how good a shot I am, though, standing chest-deep in water. Hey, you know there’s currents down here under this stuff? I can feel it pulling and pushing me around."

  Kim thought about that. "It's probably surge coming up the tunnel from down under the ship. Air pressure changing back and forth could probably cause that to happen."

  "Yeah, well, knowing what's causing it don’t help me stand up any better."

  Quickly, Kim unbent the fore and aft lines and tossed them, one at a time, to Cy, with instructions to take a turn around one of the support stanchions so they wouldn’t float free and be sucked into the VIKING’s jet ports. As he tossed over the second line he was shocked to see what looked like a fracture in the SQUID’s transparent bubble alongside. He skittered back along the VIKING’s hull until he could get a better look. Sure enough, something...a sharp rock, raining down from the ceiling?...had hit the acriliglass hard enough to star it. Frustration shot through him as he realized that not only would the little craft not be available for their escape, this hellish hole in the sea would become her grave. Wrestling his attention back to the matters at hand, he wondered why no guards had shot at him while he was exposed on the VIKING's deck. The rattling gunfire across the cavern probably meant that they were otherwise occupied. He hoped so, anyway.