Counterpoint (49 page)

At such a shallow depth, there would be
no problem in achieving rescue, and towing the stricken craft back
to the dock, if it couldn’t be repaired there. The priority would
be to tow the US1 away from the exceptionally deep trench, back to
the shallow ledge half a mile away. If for some reason it sank on
the ledge, rescue would still be straightforward.

The circling aircraft constantly
relayed the motionless status of US1 back to base. The tugs would
be on station in a matter of half an hour, and divers were already
entering the water to investigate and set up new lines of
communications.

Suddenly to everyone’s horror, a large
explosion appeared under the hull of US1, and as the disturbed
water settled, the vessel could be seen to be slowly sinking into
the trench, a mile or so deep.

To Carla’s mind, tracing the girl was a
bit like finding a needle in a haystack. The trail was probably
cold by now if she and the man had moved on, and made a life
together. The drilling site intrigued her though, from what she
knew from an earlier mission in the African jungle, the project
could not have been entirely speculative, the operation of drilling
was far too expensive for that. A lot of research would have been
done first. She also knew that a mystery is only such, to those
without the right facts.

Odd though that Mike Teal had not come
up with anything worthwhile. As though her thoughts were his cue,
the hotel phone rang. It was the man himself, calling from the
lobby. He wanted to come up and see her. She looked around the room
again, a bad place to meet if things turned nasty, was her first
assessment when she arrived. It was not a better prospect, now she
had the chance to explore the room. She insisted they met in the
lobby. Mike Teal chuckled to himself, he had already familiarised
himself with the hotel and knew he would do the same if he was in
her position.

They met in the centre of the lobby.
Carla saw the area was busy with people, but poor on cover, if Mike
Teal had helpers.

Teal saw just her! He could not explain
it to himself, why did she have such a mesmerising effect on him.
He had thought about her all the time, since they first met face to
face on the dock side. He knew he was infatuated with her, and did
not want it to change. Yes, she was very attractive, he preferred
blondes with long hair, though hers was short now. Her vivid blue
eyes, both shocked him and captivated him. He was shocked by their
intensity and felt she could read his very thoughts. Captivated by
the way they could soften and warm once they had laid bare his
innermost secrets. She smiled at him as she walked up to him.

“So! What have you to say for yourself,
mister FBI man?”

“You have a nerve crossing my path, I
should arrest you,” said Teal.

“Well, ” she countered “you could try
and if you got that lucky, I am sure the president would understand
that the capture of Gregor’s armament buyers was down to me, but
hell, perhaps he wouldn’t, especially as you're out of your
jurisdiction.” Teal, winced inwardly at the taunt, he knew she was
right, best to let it drop.

“Let’s grab a drink,” suggested
Teal.

“A large pineapple juice please, no
ice,” she replied.

They went and sat down at the bar.

“I am here on a sort of holiday,
courtesy of the senator. He wants me to help you, unofficially of
course, using the resources available to me. Where do you want to
start,” Teal questioned.

“Well, Mike, I think if we uncover the
facts about the drill site, it might reveal leads to where the girl
is now. We will also know how to handle any potential political
fallout before it hits the fan.”

“I suppose so,” said Teal thoughtfully,
because of his briefing; the missing girl was his focus, not the
site. That might be why he had not found her so far.

“Shall we go to the drill site now,” he
offered. “It will be nearly dark when we arrive so it will give us
better cover.”

Carla had already decided to do that,
but let him think he was in control, for now.

Under cover of darkness, they
approached the drill site.

“That’s strange, there is no drill
rig,” murmured Carla.

“It can only just have been cleared
away,” whispered Mike, “it was here a week ago.”

“I have never seen a building like that
either,” she continued. “The dome shape is most odd and judging by
the sound, there is a very powerful generator running inside.”

“Do you hear that low pitched roar,
almost a rumble,” Mike pointed out, “it sounds like rotor blades or
giant fan?”

“That might be something to do with the
flat top of the dome, perhaps it’s some sort of air intake.”

“May be there is a small helicopter
inside, if so, it will either take off soon or shut down.” However,
nothing changed over the next half hour.

They decided to move in for a closer
look. They could see a tall fence enclosing the site. Large double
gates on the other side allowed access to the compound inside.
Suddenly a personnel door opened in the side of the dome, and
bright yellow light flooded out, a guard came out to light a
cigarette. His eyes were unaccustomed to the darkness; he never saw
them as they dived for the sparse cover.

When the man slowly wandered around the
dome, Carla and Mike Teal crept away and booked in at the nearest
hotel, in the nearby village. During dinner, Carla kept Mike
focused on sifting the facts of the case, but later, before Mike
could turn the conversation and talk about her, she suddenly got up
from the table, said good night and, “see you for breakfast at
7.00am.”

The following morning over an early
breakfast Mike and Carla discussed what to do next. By splitting
up, they believed they could improve their chances of discovering
more about the site, from the locals. That evening they would share
what they knew, and plan the next move.

Between them, it became clear the site
raised more questions than ever. The locals said, “After the large
8m diameter hole had been cut into the bedrock, metal sections
forming tubing to fit inside, was shipped in. Then lorry loads of
concrete were poured between tube and hole. Next followed lorry
loads of machinery. The drill rig was cleared away, and the
excavated rock chippings were bulldozed into the hole. The village
was filled with workmen for a week assembling the machinery and
building the dome. After that, most of the workmen appeared to have
left, although the amount of food supplied to the site was about
the same.”

There was a young girl staying in the
village all this time, and from the description, it was certainly
Ingrid. There was no mention of a young man seeing her, although
there were so many men, he probably went unnoticed.

Anything shipped into the site now,
came from well outside the village, so no more information was
forthcoming. The twelve armed guards were the only persons working
there now, doing eight hour shifts; they do not speak to anyone,
except shout warnings to keep away.

From Carla’s experience, such a large
diameter hole implies the need to get something down it like men
and machinery. The metal lining supports that argument. The
disappearing men and sustained food supply could indicate they are
at work at the bottom of the hole. However, everything that came
out of the hole was poured back in. The volume of excavated
material is always greater than the volume of the hole it came
from, so again this cannot be explained. Finally, what was the hole
for anyway, and why the dome and running machinery? Neither of them
could come up with a feasible theory, on those subjects.

“There is only one way to find out,”
said Mike, “we must get inside the dome.”

“Also, if the girl is still with the
rest of the men, then we will find her as well,” added Carla.

That night the two of them made their
way back to the Dome and edged up to the gates. Someone had not
locked them, so they quickly slipped inside. The noise from the
machinery prevented them hearing anyone inside the dome, so
cautiously they opened the personnel door. They both squinted for a
moment as their eyes adjusted to the brightness. Seeing no one
inside, they went in. Mike and Carla could not believe their luck
in getting so far in. Soon all their questions would be
answered.

The flat top of the dome was simply
where the curved top had been cut away to form an air intake to a
multistage compressor system. This fitted with the idea of men
working at the bottom of the hole, but where did the rubble go?

Proceeding around the inside of the
dome brought them to a box shaped projection fixed to the side of
the large metal shaft. Mike thought it looked like some sort of air
lock and tried to open the door to it.

The simultaneous rattle of three
automatic pistols being cocked made Mike and Carla spin round,
their guts turned over with sickening dread. Guards had crept up
behind them.

“Just press the green button,” the
leader suggested, motioning with his gun. Aggressively Carla jabbed
the button and the steel door swung inwards to a loud hiss of
compressed air.

“Go in!” the Guard ordered. With no
alternative, they walked in and another guard pulled the door
closed behind them. The room was circular, about 7.5m diameter,
enough to fit inside the steel shaft forming the hole. The room now
slid down the shaft like a lift, in rapid decent. Air pressure
rapidly built up in the room hurting their ears and sinuses. They
were now preoccupied dealing with the mounting pain and pressure to
wonder what might happen next.

Keeping US1 above for cover, the
ancient U-boat now released divers from its escape hatches. As the
last man exited, the U-boat descended back into the depths. It took
the ten men about 25 minutes to join the relieved Dr Homer and take
over control of the revolutionary vessel. From one of its stern
torpedo tubes the U-boat shot a live torpedo. Following its
programmed course, it exploded 20 meters below the hull of the
motionless US1. The pressure wave was colossal, but the sound
inside US1, was heavily damped by the special skin, surrounding the
hull.

Only the newcomers knew what had
happened, and they were not telling anyone, they were too absorbed
in restarting US1 and making it descend straight down. When it had
reached 400meters, another shock and sound wave hit them. Not as
bad as the first one, but terrifying to the prisoners. The U-boat
had fired another torpedo at the rim of the trench causing a
massive earth slide into the depths 3000m below, close to the
descending sub. The surface ships and circling aircraft reported
another explosion on the ill-fated sub and a massive earth slide
engulfing it

The men, who were operating the
controls, were having considerable difficulty in managing the
navigation of the US1 with all the turbulence around them, from the
explosion and earth slide. The leader released the captain,
technicians and Max and ordered them to take the controls. No one
wanted to die from the hijacker’s bullet or drown in the sinking
US1, so they regained control and stabilised the descent.

Using sonar the U-boat was able to
track US1. It was not the echo they were listening for, but the
loss of echo from the trench wall when the sub was in between. The
new skin absorbed the sonar beam entirely.

Under direction of the leader of the
hijack team, stood inside the large, spherical, panoramic screen,
he could see exactly where he was going. US1 entered a crevice in
the trench wall under an overhanging ledge. The U-boat slowly
followed.

It was pitch black inside the crevice,
but the computer-generated image on the screen, made it like
daylight. The current pulled the vessel further and further along
the enormous tunnel, for about 10 minutes until external light
started registering as false colours, on the pilot’s panoramic
display.

“Reduce speed to half a knot until we
are in the main chamber, surface and steer hard to port into the
larger pen,” commanded the leader.

The technicians didn’t know what to
expect until they entered the main chamber, and then it became
clear to them. They had entered a huge subterranean cavern that was
modified by man, to form two submarine pens. As the technicians
edged into the pen, the U-boat swung round expertly into its own.
The current was practically nothing as the docking crew tied up
both craft. Max pointed out to the technicians that although they
had surfaced, the depth gauge registered they were still submerged
at 40 meters. The leader confirmed his observation and told
everyone to get ready to adjust to the increase in pressure, which
will be painful, but would not be for long.

The Captain, Max, and the technicians
were handcuffed again and lead outside to a concrete blockhouse,
joined by the remaining people on US1. They were pushed inside, and
locked in. The prisoners were desperate to know where they were,
and what was going to happen to them, but the guards just told them
to shut up!

From a small window, Max could see both
submarines and dockside. Preparations were going on at a frantic
pace as the air pressure was rising. To his amazement, the water
level was slowly dropping, and the subs were grounding on a coarse
sandy bottom. He also noticed the current had reversed, and with a
vengeance. The shore team was having trouble keeping the two craft
aligned as the current tugged at their stern. Eventually, the
beached craft defied the grip of the current and all was calm
again. The water level continued to drop though, until the coarse
sand was high and dry. By now, the water was flowing at a furious
rate through the chamber; it looked like a horizontal waterfall. No
wonder the submarines were beached, and the water level lowered,
without that, everything would have been washed away.