PLAZA

by Shane M Brown

  From the angle of the animal's head, he knew where its body had to be. Kline shredded the canvas until his weapon ran dry. The animal recoiled. Through the shredded canvas, Kline spotted more movement outside.

  They're surrounding us.

  Only one option remained. Kline dashed back to the trapdoor and prayed he wasn't making a huge mistake.

  Chapter 14

  Dale watched Merc slam shut the trapdoor.

  'It's Kline,' hissed Merc, feeling blindly for a way to lock the trapdoor. 'He saw me. He knows we're down here. I don't think this door locks from the inside.'

  Dale brought up his carbine to cover the steps.

  'We're trapped,' said Merc.

  'Where does that go?' Dale asked Claire, tilting his head towards the water.

  Claire bit her lip. 'Back to the west bunker, I guess. We found a diver’s flashlight down there. I guess this chamber is how Rourke reached the bunker before Ethan. He’s been hiding this place.'

  Dale pointed to Libby. 'Can you scuba dive?'

  'Yes. I haven't done it in ages, but I know how.'

  Claire waved to the racks of dive gear. 'I checked already. There's not much air left in those tanks, but maybe enough to reach the west antechamber.'

  'Underwater?' asked Merc. 'Diving under the water?'

  'It's the only way, Merc,’ replied Dale. ‘Can you dive?'

  'Dale, I can't even swim.'

  Dale glanced at the water. It offered their only chance at escape. ‘Hey, swimming's optional. You don't need to know how to swim.'

  Claire started rapidly assembling the dive equipment. Libby chose the four tanks with the most air reserves.

  Merc crossed to the dark pool of water. He knelt and probed the depths with his flashlight. 'I'm not brimming over with confidence. It looks dark and deep down there. I'll stay here.'

  Dale grabbed Merc’s arm and tried to pull him towards the equipment. 'I know you can do this, Merc.'

  Merc jerked his arm from Dale’s grasp. 'You know nothing about me.'

  Dale took a deep breath. As it happened, he knew a hell of a lot about Giorgio Mercerelli.

  Dale lowered his voice so the women couldn’t overhear him. 'Seems to me that I heard about this real hard nut that used to run things up in Marion Penitentiary. Up in Illinois. Real bad-ass type. Apparently the inmates were terrified of him. He had several guards under his thumb, as I hear it. He went by the name of Mercy. You’re from Illinois, right? Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but Mercy sounds a lot like a shortened version of Mercerelli.’

  Mercerelli stared at Dale. 'We're not in Marion now, Dale.'

  'Yeah, and you were never meant to be there. You were innocent. It was your wife, Susan, and you took the blame. And then while you were inside she shacked up with someone else. She betrayed and abandoned you, the one person who cared about her. And even then you still didn't drop her in it. You are loyal, even when it's undeserving. That's why Spader recruited you. You and your stupid loyalty. Now, if we're going to help Spader and Gordon, we really need to get the hell out of this vault.'

  'This isn't a vault.'

  'What?'

  'You said 'vault'. We're not in a vault.'

  'Whatever. Vault, underground chamber - whatever.'

  Merc held Dale's gaze. 'How did you escape the flooded vault back in Paris?'

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘I’m not. I decided I’d rather be caught by the police than drown. I tried to swim up the vault’s stairs into the owner’s house, but there were bars blocking the way. I ran out of air down there. I passed out.’

  Merc said thoughtfully, ‘So you didn’t escape on your own after all.’

  ‘No. Somebody pulled me out. Remember I told you I saw a sixth diver? Well, what I didn’t mention was who owned the house above the vault.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Spader. I think you can work out who the sixth diver was. If anyone knew of a hidden exit, it would be the vault’s owner. Spader’s was the first face I saw when I woke up. I woke up lying in the cellar of a pub across the street. Spader was changing his clothes. He was still dripping wet.’

  ‘I know that pub, said Merc. ‘I didn’t know Spader owned the house across the street though.’

  ‘Now you know my secret. But the truth is, it’s Spader’s secret. He never told me how he got me out. Gordon won’t tell me either. I guess they don’t want to share what’s in that vault.’

  Dale nodded towards the water. ‘So now you know. Do you trust me now?’

  Merc looked at the water. 'I don't have to swim?'

  Dale picked up a tow-rope. 'Nope. Just kick. I'll do the rest. You just need to hold onto me.'

  Merc let himself be led to the equipment.

  #

  Claire knew these two weren't police. Underwater, she and Libby floated side-by-side while Dale helped Merc descend to their depth.

  How many police can't swim?

  She wasn't fooled, but neither was she foolish enough to raise her suspicions. Had she wanted to, she could have lost them underwater, but any enemy of Kline's was a friend of hers, for the time being anyway.

  When Dale gave the OK hand-signal, when Merc was clutching the rope like grim death, Claire began leading the way through the flooded underground rooms along Rourke's navigation rope. The flooded chambers closely resembled those under the east antechamber. Thank goodness for that. It upheld her theory that the areas were joined.

  First in the water, Libby had found Rourke's orange nylon navigation rope anchored onto the fifth step from the bottom. The rope led east, cutting through the flooded chambers. Rourke had evidently spent quite a lot of time exploring these underwater chambers.

  What was he looking for?

  Following the rope, Claire glanced at the passing wall carvings. Joanne would have loved them. There seemed to be a wealth of information carved into the dozens and dozens of interconnected chambers.

  Claire's hand snagged something on the rope. It was a knot. From the knot, a second rope led away south. The second rope was bright blue. Color codes. The blue rope continued south for as far as Claire's flashlight could penetrate. This pattern repeated itself. Every so often, as Claire continued, Rourke's main navigation line branched off into dark side chambers. The ropes’ colors always differed. First blue, then yellow, then red and so forth.

  She wondered what the color codes meant. Now wasn't the time to investigate. She had to stay focused. Without the navigation line, it would be terrifyingly easy to get lost down here. Most the rooms looked alike, although several times Claire spotted chambers filled with the familiar recessed sleeping niches. Ethan first found the wall niches under the west antechamber. The niches were another Plaza mystery. Why did so many people need to sleep underground?

  Claire swam true east until she had counted off fifteen chambers in her head. She checked behind herself. Yes, her plan was working disturbingly well. The rooms they'd passed were thick with suspended silt. Merc's erratic fin strokes kicked up loads of the stuff. Claire's light barely penetrated a meter behind where Dale helped Merc along the rope.

  Claire stopped when Rourke's rope next branched to the south. This rope was fluorescent green.

  Following the green rope, she led the others away from the main line through three chambers. In the third chamber, she reversed and went hand-over-hand back along the rope. The others stopped, confused. Claire made eye-contact with each of them, using hand-gestures to communicate she wanted them to wait here for her. Dale grabbed her wrist, signing energetically that they should all stay together. He wasn't satisfied until he realized Libby was staying too.

  Claire pulled herself back to Rourke’s main line.

  Rourke's system of ropes had given her the idea. She’d left five full sets of dive gear back in Rourke’s secret chamber. Claire could easily have sabotaged the equipment, but she’d left it all intact. She wanted Kline to follow. Judging by the earlier gunfire, Kline had come
under intense attack just seconds before her group descended. If he was forced to retreat underground, he’d have no choice but to use the dive gear. If Claire had read the situation correctly, Kline could be following closely behind them.

  She was right.

  After less than two minutes waiting, she felt a tug on the main rope. Kline was coming through the silt clouds. Claire switched off her flashlight. She descended and swam a full lap around the chamber, just above the bottom, dipping her fins into the silt with every kick. She kept her right hand on the wall, counting off exits until she was back where she started. Now she couldn't see a thing. Expanding clouds of silt filled the chamber. Blindly, she groped around in the archway.

  Where is the navigation rope!

  She couldn’t find it. She couldn't use her flashlight to find the green rope because Kline might see her. But if she drifted too far from the archway, she'd never find the others again. They'd all drown down here.

  Suppressing panic, Claire reached for her flashlight, deciding to risk the light, but at that exact moment her other hand found the green rope. She clung to the rope. She was hyperventilating. Her own relief was unnerving.

  Calm down. It’s alright now.

  She checked her diving gauges. Most of her air was expended now. Nearly panicking certainly hadn’t helped.

  That was worse than I thought.

  In the pitch dark, she pulled herself along the rope for what she estimated was two chambers distance from the main line. She turned and watched. Four lights, barely perceptible, crept across her field of vision. The first light stopped where the main line branched to her green rope. She felt a tug, and at that moment realized her mistake. The silt obscured the rope's colors. Kline was having difficulty knowing which way to go. Don't come down here! Keep going straight ahead!

  Another frightening thought occurred. Had they seen her?

  In the thickening silt, Claire spotted movement again. Kline continued down the main line, ignoring her green rope.

  Rapidly pulling herself hand-over-hand, she reached Dale just ahead of the expanding silt cloud.

  Follow me, she signed, frantically ensuring everyone got the message before the silt engulfed them all. She didn't have a second to spare. As Libby nodded her understanding, the cloud swept around them.

  Blind, all four moved hand-over-hand back along the green rope. Claire only used her flashlight to ensure three hazy shapes were still following when she reached the blue rope again. Fifteen chambers of murky swimming later, Claire felt where the rope knotted through a stainless steel eyelet. The eyelet fastened the rope to the stone. She swam up the steps she couldn't see, but knew must be there. Her head emerged from the water.

  Libby broke the surface beside her. 'You've brought us back to the start!

  'Yeah, with no Kline,' explained Claire.

  Dale and Merc rose on the steps a little off to one side. Dale tore of his mask. 'You almost killed us! Why did you stir up the silt? I knew we were doubling back. Why blind us all? Kline wouldn't have found us. You're supposed to be the safety officer. That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen in my life.'

  Claire waited for Dale to finish. Of the four divers, Dale seemed most traumatized by their experience. The silt seemed to have terrified him.

  He must be claustrophobic or something. But it was his idea to dive....

  Dale's left hand was still locked to Merc's diving vest. Merc's head was clear of the water. He should be alright on his own, but Claire sensed that helping Merc had been the only thing holding Dale together. Looking after his companion let Dale block out his fear.

  Dale hissed, 'I almost lost Merc in the silt twice. He kept turning around and going back the wrong way!'

  'Sorry. I couldn't...I couldn't tell which way was up.' Merc rapidly shed his dive gear. 'I'm not going down there again. I'd rather die.'

  'I had to disturb the silt,' explained Claire. 'Don't you understand - it was the bubbles from our breathing regulators.'

  Dale's face clouded with thought.

  'Our bubbles were going to give us away,' continued Claire. 'They were floating up and getting trapped on the ceiling of every chamber we swam through. You were breathing twice as hard as the rest of us, Dale. Check your gauges. I bet you ate through twice as much air as Merc. The bubbles on the ceiling were like a trail of breadcrumbs that would lead Kline right to us. If he'd known which way we'd gone, he could have cut our line. I needed the ceiling and all the trapped bubbles to be concealed.'

  Dale checked his dive gauges then slumped down on the steps, thinking about it. 'You're right. If he'd seen the bubbles he could have just cut the lines behind him and kept going. We'd still be down there lost. I'm sorry. I didn't even think about it.'

  Merc and Libby had finished shedding their equipment. As Dale unclipped his vest, Merc stepped back down into the water with his combat knife.

  Dale grabbed his arm. 'What are you doing?'

  'Making sure Kline can't find his way back here. I'll cut the line.'

  'Don't cut it,' said Dale.

  Merc straightened from the water. 'We all almost died getting away from him, and now you want to help him?'

  Claire agreed with Dale. 'It's not about him. It's about the line. You never cut an underwater navigation line. Never under any circumstances. It has a way of coming back to bite you on the ass.'

  Merc hesitated, then left the line intact without further argument.

  Libby checked where the trapdoor lay torn from its hinges. 'The megafauna got down here. Chasing Kline, I bet. They ripped through the trapdoor. Looks like they didn't hang around when they couldn't find anyone to eat.'

  'Alright,' said Merc, starting up the steps. 'Let's see what else Rourke has been hiding in here.'

  #

  Maria had been on hold for the last twenty years. It felt like that, anyway. Her ear was sore from the telephone receiver.

  Her mother had picked up the kids an hour ago. Maria didn't want to frighten them, especially when it might all be in her imagination.

  Don't you dare doubt yourself. Something isn't right.

  Finally a voice came on the phone. Maria expected to hear the police operator again, apologizing for the delay, but the deep voice of a man replaced the operator this time.

  'This is Captain Oloroso. Mrs. March, is it?'

  Maria sat up straight on the kitchen stool. Her back was sore from sitting at the phone so long. 'Yes, this is Maria March. My husband spoke to you this morning. I hope you're the right person to contact.'

  The Captain sounded sympathetic, but that was probably a voice he used a lot in his line of work. ‘How can I help, Mrs. March?'

  'Well actually, I was hoping you could tell me what's going on. At the Plaza, I mean. I've not been able to contact anyone there. I've called the University, both here and in Mexico, and some of Ethan's colleagues, but no one's heard anything since this morning.'

  'We're facing the same difficulty,' admitted the Captain. 'Actually, we're trying to raise the Plaza security contractors right now. They have their own communication system.'

  'Of course,' realized Maria. 'I didn't think of that. That makes sense. Can I speak to Ethan on that line then?'

  Captain Oloroso didn't sound optimistic. 'Whatever affected your husband's radio seems to be affecting the security contractors as well. I understand all Ethan’s staff were leaving the site today, so he wouldn’t have the technical staff on hand to fix the problem as quickly as usual. Still, I suspect we'll hear from him soon. I'll contact you as soon as we hear something.'

  'Wait,' blurted Maria. 'Ethan talked about another group in the area. Just a few days ago. A team of ecologists working from an inflatable balloon platform. It was launching from the Plaza and staying in radio contact with Ethan's team. So they must have some kind of radio too. Perhaps they could help.'

  'That's an excellent idea,' agreed the Captain. 'I'll check into it now. Don't worry if you don't hear from us. The satellite reception here is patchy. We
'll be coming in and out of communications range.'

  'Wait, where are you now? Ethan said you were travelling to the Plaza immediately.'

  'We're trying,' admitted the Captain. 'Apparently not a single charter plane is available. Same with the boats. They're either all in dry dock or having engine trouble.'

  'Is that normal?'

  The Captain said, 'If I didn't know better, I'd think someone was trying to keep us away. I'll call you when I know more.'

  He was about to hang up!

  'What about a helicopter?' Maria asked quickly.

  Captain Oloroso’s voice adopted a strained tone. We aren't as well-funded as your US Federal Police, Mrs. March. My department doesn't have access to helicopters.'

  'I'll pay for one,' offered Maria. 'If you charter a private one, I'll be happy to pay. I can transfer the money to your department's account today. I really feel that you need to reach the Plaza as soon as possible. I'm happy to pay.'

  Captain Oloroso paused as though considering. 'I'm afraid we have strict rules against that kind of thing, Mrs. March. It can lead to special treatment, which, in a way, is exactly what you’re asking for. I'm not trying to be contrary or obstructionist, and I truly appreciate your concern, but this is my job and you need to let me do it. I assure you I am giving the problem my full attention.'

  Maria wanted to yell down the phone, but she contained herself. She needed to keep a cool head if she wanted to get anything done. The police operator could easily filter Maria’s calls if the Captain labeled her as intrusive or pushy. Her first instinct was to catch the first plane to Mexico. There was nothing stopping her from personally chartering a helicopter. But that would take too long.

  She needed to impress upon the Captain that something wasn't right at the Plaza.

  She controlled herself, and in the most reasonable way she could, explained the message that Abby had passed through Ben. She explained Abby's theory about a large predator in the area. She hadn’t planned to mention it, but it felt like the last card she had to play.