Along the stone walls, cracks formed vertically, creeping along the folds and decorations. A fracture appeared across the floor, splitting the black marble insignia in two. The attendants of the meeting rushed for the exit to the elevator, possessed by panic. Purdue opened the trapdoor and shut it behind him while the muffled cries of his guests still permeated through the hinges of the door.
Outside the pilots fired up their helicopters as the ocean started rising higher and higher, threatening to wipe them from the platform. The sea spray clattered against the bodies of the machines as they lifted, some crashing into one another from locking rotors. Thunder bellowed through the diabolical skies and shook the platform surface. Occasionally the lightning would spark against the electrical cables of the drills.
With such fury the wind pulled the roofs off some of the buildings, sending flying shards of steel and iron into the bodies of pilots who had not been able to lift off. Their helicopters slid from the tilting platform, the rain impairing their vision as the mouth of Poseidon opened up to receive them.
Nina screamed and clawed at Sam as they felt the compound tilt gradually under the onslaught of the unnaturally vicious tempest. Sam held her tightly. The room had no windows he could smash to help them escape and the steel door was bolted from the outside.
"Don't let go of me, Sam," she cried.
"I won't, love. I'm right here," he shouted as the rumbling elevated alarmingly around them. They looked up, expecting the roof to cave in on them and the massive waters to drive their bodies to pulp. Deafening and deep, the repetitive thump of it drew nearer to them. Suddenly a thunderous rapping slammed against the outside of their prison door and a faint voice was heard, "Anybody in here?"
Sam and Nina jumped up and hammered against the door, screaming for their lives. A dent appeared in the door and they stood back as a pickaxe tool cleaved through the hinges and finally ripped the door loose.
"Sam Cleave?" the rescuer shouted. Sam nodded and grabbed his laptop case and camera bag..
Two rescue divers were harnessed to a hovering Sikorsky CH-53E helicopter, heavy enough to withstand most of the thunderstorm's badgering and they lifted the two from the failing oil rig. As they were helped into the helicopter, Sam was elated to see his pal, Patrick. He had reported to MI6 and garnered aid for them. They looked down from the helicopter to see Deep Sea One disappear under the foamy rage of the North Sea.
When they arrived at Ashton House a few hours later, Nina and Sam learned that Calisto was not a police officer from Spain, but that she was an operative for PIDE, the Portuguese Secret Service long disbanded… or was it? She was sent to steal the strains from Purdue's mansion when he caught her burgling his home. After she worked her way in and discovered where the strains were kept, she intercepted them, as initially ordered, to prevent Eickhart's man from getting his hands on it.
"Bitch could have warned us," Nina jested, and Sam squeezed her hand with a reluctant smile.
Patrick, even though with a wide berth, had fulfilled his mission objective and Mrs. Lancashire was pleased with his performance. What happened to Purdue, nobody knew, but Sam was grateful that he made copies of everything and saved his laptop to prove it.
"Come on, Cleave, I believe you owe me breakfast," Nina said, as their car waited to take her home.
Patrick sniggered and made suggestive gestures at Sam, who simply gave him the finger and got in the car.
Under the calming surface of the North Sea, Deep Sea One joined the German submarine it had stood sentinel over for ages. Iron junk and debris floated downward through the dark blue of the deep to settle among the rest of the steel graveyard already waiting. In subdued silence it was laid to rest to join all the wraiths begotten by the greed of the Third Reich.