Undersea Prison (37 page)

He went back to the monitor to check on the progress of the virus. The warnings continued as one section after another began to flash red.

Mandrick picked up the phone on his desk and punched in a number. ‘Mandrick here. Are the ferries ready for that scheduled stores run? . . . Good. I want you to send them. I want all those stores cleared off the platform and brought down here . . .Yes, do it now. I know there’s a ferry booked for the inspector this evening but she’s not leaving until tomorrow . . . Just do what I goddamn say, OK?’ He put the phone down, checked his watch and went back to the computer monitor that showed how the virus was spreading.

 

In the OCR a light flickered on the main panel, accompanied by a beep. The controller and his assistant were seated at a table, eating sandwiches and drinking coffee.

The assistant took a large bite out of his sandwich, got to his feet, walked over to the panel and eyed the read-out curiously as he brushed his hands on his chest. ‘Pressure spike in C cell,’ he said, his mouth full of food.

‘The interrogation chamber?’ the senior controller asked as he flicked through the pages of a girlie magazine.

‘Yep.’

‘They’ve got nothing booked for right now.’

‘Nope,’ the assistant agreed, checking a calendar on the side of the panel.

‘Give ’em a call. Tell ’em we’d appreciate it if they let us know before they start playing their little games.’

‘You want me to ask it exactly like that?’

The senior controller frowned without looking at his colleague. ‘Just ask ’em what they’re doing.’

The assistant picked up a phone and punched in a number.

 

The CIA interrogation-room technician was in the pressure chamber, checking the wiring to the central chair, when the phone on the wall buzzed. As he stood up to reach for it he felt suddenly flushed and paused to loosen the clothing around his neck.

Two interrogation officers were in the elevated room, going over several files and making notes. ‘You getting hot?’ one of them asked.

‘Yeah,’ his colleague replied, loosening his collar as he looked through the thick glass at the tech reaching for the phone.

The tech picked up the receiver. ‘C cell.’

‘You guys working that room today?’ the assistant controller asked.

‘Just some routine wiring. No one’s touching the pressure.’

‘Well,
someone
’s screwing around with it.’

‘I can feel it. The air’s getting pretty thick in here.’

The assistant controller scrutinised the gauges. ‘Holy cow! You’re down more’n a hundred feet below ambient.’

The interrogation room was filled with a loud crunching sound from above.The technician looked up as dust sprinkled down onto him. ‘There’s something happening with the ceiling,’ he said, his expression deepening with concern.

‘Harry, we got a problem,’ the assistant controller said to his boss as he pushed a couple of switches to check several other read-outs. ‘You’d better get outta there,’ he said into the phone. ‘The pressure’s dropping and the oxygen level isn’t compensating.’

The technician was overcome by dizziness as his face reddened. Another loud crunching sound and this time a large crack was visible around the ceiling hatch. The technician dropped the phone and headed for the pressure door, which was closed.

The agent in the booth watched the technician stagger to the door and pull on the handle. ‘What’s up with Marty?’ he said, getting to his feet.

The pressure door would not respond to the open button and the technician dropped to his knees as he fought to breathe. A third loud crunch was accompanied by high-pressure water shooting through the cracks. A second later the ceiling collapsed ahead of a wall of water and the technician disappeared under the tremendous force of it all.

The agents in the booth stepped back from the glass as the room beyond it filled with water. The technician’s severed head rolled across the glass and both men went for the door. It did not respond to the control lever and they pulled on the handle with all their might. Cracks suddenly streaked across the thick glass and as the two men fought the door the centre of the window gave way and the water burst into the room.

‘Hello!’ the assistant controller shouted into the phone. All he could hear was static and he looked over at his boss. ‘I think we’ve got a problem.’

 

Hamlin finished cutting a hole in the thick rubber door seal large enough to poke a couple of fingers into, withdrew the saw bit and inspected his work, using a small flashlight. ‘Does that look like it to you?’ he said, stepping back so that Stratton could take a look.

Stratton scrutinised inside the hole. ‘That’s it,’ he agreed.

He handed Hamlin a small bottle cap with a heavily greased rim. Hamlin pushed it in through the hole and positioned it over the sensor.

‘It’s in place,’ Hamlin said as he felt around inside the hole, making sure he was right.

Stratton handed him a flat piece of rubber with a sealing-compound coating one side. Hamlin placed it over the hole he had cut, ensuring it made a tight seal. ‘Perfect . . . I got a good feelin’ about you, ferryman. I think you’re lucky.’

Stratton was bemused by Hamlin’s upbeat attitude and was burning to know what was fuelling his confidence.

‘Let’s help things along a ways, why don’t we?’ Hamlin said as he walked over to the rack of emergency air bottles and, using a wrench, tried to unscrew one of the ends. ‘Gimme a hand here,’ he asked as he strained.

Stratton joined him and, with their combined strength applied to the nut, it began to loosen. Hamlin repositioned the wrench and they pushed again. As the thread unscrewed, gas began to hiss from the joint until it became almost deafening.

‘That should do it,’ Hamlin shouted. ‘You ready?’

Stratton gave him a thumbs-up.

Hamlin made his way up the steps and into the transformer room. He collected several prepared cables with crocodile clips on the ends and began connecting them to an assortment of cable hubs, leaving the final couple of clips disconnected. He pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and, using a large pair of pliers with rubber tubing over the handles, gripped one of the remaining crocodile clips and connected it to a terminal. A couple of sparks flew and he picked up the last clip with the pliers, leaned out of the doorway and looked down at Stratton. ‘How’s it lookin’?’ he shouted.

Stratton was checking the seals. He looked up at Hamlin and shook his head. ‘Can’t see a change yet!’

‘Give it a minute!’ Hamlin remained confident as he stared up at a large square air duct hanging down from the centre of the rock-and-girder ceiling. The fins that ran across its face opened wider, indicating a sudden flow of air coming out of it. ‘Here she comes!’ Hamlin shouted.

Stratton followed his gaze to see evidence that the pressure compensator had tripped.

The door seals began to flatten slowly and the door itself moved perceptibly. Stratton gripped the handle and pulled with all his might. The door moved more freely and as it opened he grabbed the inner edge.

When the gap was wide enough he moved his head to look through into the corridor. A large fist slammed into his face and sent him flying back into the room and onto the floor.

Stratton lay on his back, reeling from the punch and with blood trickling from his nose. Through watering eyes he watched Gann step into the room.

Gann picked up a heavy wrench, tested its weight and held it like a baseball bat. ‘Not as smart as you think you are, Mister Charon or whoever you are.’

Stratton wriggled backwards, quickly wiping his eyes and searching for anything he could use as a weapon. There was nothing close to hand.

‘Just left a friend of yours in the hospital.Your Afghan pal - didn’t think I knew about him, did you? And it was me who found you out, not the CIA or the big guys who run this place. And guess what else? We found something inside his gut.’

Stratton was appalled by what Gann was saying but he had more important matters to deal with right at that moment.

Gann moved over him, the wrench held high. ‘Your next stop is the morgue.’ He grimaced as he made ready to bring the heavy tool back down. At that precise moment Hamlin connected the remaining crocodile clip, causing a massive short circuit that sparked wildly. All the lights immediately went out, plunging the room into total darkness.

Gann brought the wrench down with all his might and the end slammed home.

The emergency lights flickered on as the auxiliary power kicked in, dimmer than before but enough for Gann to see the end of his wrench sitting in a chipped indentation that it had made in the concrete. At first he could see no sign of Stratton. Then he looked up to see him getting to his feet from where he had rolled when the lights had gone out.

Stratton found an iron bar and held it up, ready to do combat. Gann straightened himself as he adjusted the wrench in his hands and smiled thinly. ‘This could be more fun than I’d expected,’ he growled. He took a step towards Stratton who backed up to the metal stairs between the scrubbers.

Gann came at him, swinging the wrench in a wide arc. Stratton held up his bar to block the blow. Gann smashed it out of his hand and it went clattering across the floor.

As Gann came in for a speedy follow-up Stratton’s heels struck the bottom step and he stumbled backwards. Gann brought the wrench down with all his might, Stratton only barely managing to roll aside again as the end of the tool dented the metal step with a thunderous clang. Stratton instantly threw out a kick that connected with Gann’s groin. The big man was halted in his tracks and he gave out a moan as the pain shot through his crotch.

Stratton scurried backwards up the stairs, not prepared to tackle Gann man-to-man just yet. The brute had twice his strength and, like a bull in the ring, needed weakening considerably before the power gap between them could be closed.

Gann brought his pain under control, held the wrench ready to resume the conflict and made his way up the steps, his expression a twisted grimace of malicious determination. The only thing in Stratton’s reach was a wooden board which he picked up, holding it like a shield in front of himself. Gann reached the gantry and launched a side blow. Stratton brought the shield across to block it but the force knocked him off the gantry and several feet down onto the top of one of the scrubbing machines, which he landed on back first. Gann jumped over the rail and down onto the machine into the cloud of dust that Stratton’s impact had kicked up. He loomed above his winded prey, savouring the moment.

Stratton had nowhere to go in the narrow space. There was a long drop either side to the floor. Gann raised the wrench for a deadly blow but a chunk of metal, a machine part of some kind, flew through the air and struck him on the side of his head, knocking him off balance. Stratton took immediate advantage and kicked the side of Gann’s knee, causing it to bend, and followed that up with a thrust from his other leg. Gann lost his balance and struggled to grab the gantry rail, missing it and falling off the machine onto an exhaust pipe several feet below before rolling off that and hitting the floor.

Stratton got to his feet and looked down to see Gann lying with his face against the concrete. He was stirring slowly, the wind knocked out of him.

Hamlin hurried along the gantry towards Stratton.

‘Get out of here!’ Stratton shouted.

Hamlin needed no further encouragement and headed down the stairs. Stratton jumped over the gantry rail and followed hard on his heels.

Hamlin reached the bottom step, lost his footing and fell sprawling on the floor. Stratton hurried to pick him up and as the older man staggered to his feet a dart struck Stratton in the side of his neck. He let out a scream as two hundred kilovolts shot through his body from a Taser in Gann’s hand. Stratton dropped to the floor, his limbs shaking as Hamlin ran for the door. Gann dropped the Taser and threw his wrench at Hamlin, catching him around the legs. Hamlin went sprawling once again.

For the moment Gann ignored Stratton who lay on the floor twitching like an epileptic. He went for Hamlin instead. He picked the older man up by his neck, grabbed his head as if he was going to rip it off and jerked it around into an unnatural position to face him. ‘Looks like it’s time for you to say goodbye too,’ Gann snarled as he slammed Hamlin’s head into the metal door, spun him around and used him like a punching bag, pounding his hammer fists into the other man’s ribs, smashing them one by one. Hamlin went limp and Gann looked around to see Stratton roll onto his knees, the Taser dart out of his neck.

Gann let Hamlin drop to the floor and marched over to Stratton.

Stratton fought to focus his eyes, saw a shackle on the floor within arm’s reach and reached for it. Gann grabbed him mercilessly by the back of the neck, picked him up like a rag doll, and spun him round as he raised a fist, his face twisted in effort. But as his knuckles ploughed through the air towards Stratton’s head the shackle struck Gann in the jaw, shattering several of his teeth.

Gann staggered back, releasing Stratton who came in quickly for another blow. But Gann was not finished by a long shot and blocked the attack, following it up with a vicious punch to Stratton’s sternum that sent him flying back.

Gann stood upright, taking a moment to gather himself and spit out his broken teeth. He felt his jaw as he stared at Stratton, blood trickling from his mouth. The brute was utterly incensed. ‘I am going to tear you apart,’ he shouted, his voice rising to a crescendo as he lunged forward.

Stratton ducked a haymaker and countered with a blow to Gann’s body that seemed to have no effect. Gann swung again as he ploughed on, Stratton managing to dodge blow after blow although it did not look as if he would remain lucky for long. He didn’t. A blow connected with the side of his head, sending him reeling back into one of the scrubbers.The machine was running noisily, a powerful electric motor turning a large shaft that was exposed for a metre where it went into the housing, a large knuckle joint in its centre. Gann grabbed Stratton by the neck and hauled him towards the fiercely spinning shaft. Stratton splayed out his hands, grabbing the sides of the machine, desperation taking hold of him as he felt helpless in Gann’s powerful grip.