After carefully inspecting the area for any overlooked tit-bits, the sharks resumed their passive attitude and quietly drifted back to their individual territories, where they continued their endless vigil.
To the terrified diver, the sharks’ sudden departure offered him an unexpected last opportunity for survival so with his air all but exhausted, he crept cautiously towards the opening; the submersible had moved thirty metres towards the stern, right on top of where they had entered the hull originally. The pilot was obviously trying to make it easier for the remaining diver to escape. But the diver had no intention of returning to the hold, where he had witnessed his colleagues being pulled apart. Then he spotted the suspended dive bell a mere ten metres away. He knew that it also meant a fully pressurised environment, which was essential if he was to survive.
If he could just attract the occupiers’ attention…
At that precise moment, Hal, looking from the small pressure window saw the diver crouching on the hull. Hal looked at his companions. Without hesitation they agreed to bring the man in.
The spirit of the sea did not allow one seaman to abandon another, even if they were deadly enemies. Hal signalled OK and waved the diver across.
Cautiously, the diver looked out of his refuge and scanned three hundred and sixty degrees. He could not see anything but the submersible. He sucked what was probably the last drop of air in his tank and lunged from the hull, paddling wildly towards the bell. He was almost there, he pushed out his hand in a last desperate effort towards the trailing safety line. He was within just three metres from salvation when to his horror the bell started moving slowly towards the surface.
“Wait,” John shouted into the intercom but there was no reply.
The desperate diver renewed his effort and with his final burst of energy managed to grab the safety line and haul himself forward until he could grip the ring at the bottom of he bell.
“Hang on,” Hal shouted, even though the diver could not have heard through the reinforced hull.
The bell continued to rise slowly with the man dangling like a piece of live bait.
The resident male tiger shark was still tense and fidgety as he cruised nervously back towards the wreck, when he spotted the wiggling limbs dangling from the diving bell, a ripple of excitement vibrated along his lightly striped body, sending an exhilarating thrill to his prehistoric senses.
The men inside the bell opened the hatch and grabbed at the diver whose grip was slowly failing. Hal held the man’s wrist in one hand and pulled his air tank, which caught momentarily on the edge of the hatch. The man was almost halfway in; it would need just one more heave to pull him clear. Hal stood up to get enough purchase.
The shark covered the distance in a split second; its massive jaw with its savage chainsaw teeth, grabbed the man at the pelvis. With a violent twist at precisely the same moment as Hal heaved, the body was easily cut in two. Hal fell back against one of the other divers, still clutching the bleeding torso.
Seemingly angered by its denial of the complete body the shark spat the legs out of its mouth and plunged headlong into the open hatch, fortunately it was so big that its body jammed in the hole. Its head still covered in blood and intestines, the angry animal snapped its jaws opportunistically before slipping back into the abyss.
As it disappeared, another diver reached out, smartly pulling the hatch lever and securing it. Blood from the severed torso pumped everywhere; amazingly the diver was still alive and in a scene reminiscent of Dante’s inferno started to scream in pain and fear. Mercifully it only lasted a few seconds; gradually the screams waned and the man fell silent. No one else moved or spoke; in spite of their many years of dangerous high-risk diving experience, none had ever been so traumatised
“Stand by to surface and connect to pressure hull.” The pressure activated, metallic recorded voice, broke them from their spell.
Big J was seated in his chair on the bridge with his thin-faced Japanese captor.
“First thing,” Big J said calmly, “I have five divers on the bottom in saturation dive condition; before I discuss to anything they are to be recovered and pressurised, agreed?”
“Not so fast with the demands Captain. Don’t forget I’m in charge!”
“I fully understand that, but you know us Aussies — straight to the point and no offence intended!” Big J proffered his beaming smile.
“OK Captain but from now on my divers are in control.” The thin-faced Japanese tried to copy the beaming smile but it simply did not have he same effect.
Big J picked up the intercom phone. “Control room?“
Marion answered. “Big J — thank heavens; we’ve got a big problem here, please come at once!” she pleaded.
“OK bring them up as soon as you can,” he answered casually.
“But Big J?” she pleaded confused by the strange reply.
“Well done,” he responded and replaced the intercom phone smiling impishly at the Japanese man.
“First I’d like to show you our control room. Then you can tell me how we can take advantage of all this hardware eh?” Big J stood up and started to the door. Unaccustomed to being dominated in such a manner the Japanese man was initially peeved at Big J’s attitude but then he reminded himself “Aussies are different” and followed without outward complaint.
Marion, sitting at the monitors, had witnessed the first attack. Her guard had not seen what was happening; he was too interested in the girlie magazine he’d discovered on a shelf.
Big J acted swiftly as he entered the control room.
“Put that down — it’s not yours,” he admonished the guard.
He made to grab the magazine with his left hand but at the last moment balled his right fist and struck the man with a powerful short jab to the solar plexus. The man gasped. Big J turned ready to give the thin-faced Japanese man the same treatment, but stopped in his tracks when he saw Alex holding a silenced revolver at the Japanese’s temple. Mo, who had followed Alex, closed the door quietly behind them.
“Nice move Big J. I figure that’s ten down and only twenty-five or so to go!” He turned the Japanese around. “So who have we here?” Mo pushed him into one of the swivel chairs. “I’ll cover him while you tie him securely.”
Big J took a roll of duct tape and bound the man like a parcel to the chair.
“Its talk time!” Alex waved the revolver at the man.
“And just who are you?” the man snapped back defiantly.
Alex sat in the chair opposite him.
“Now that’s another story, but I’m asking the questions now.”
“Any one down there?” It was one of Franco Ebola’s men.
He’d been with Franco aboard La Vielle as they systematically searched the cabins and holds. It had not been very long before they discovered the gold. The initial sight of the golden treasure had Franco and his two men mesmerised and silent for several minutes. Finally some animal sixth sense made Franco wonder where their Japanese leader was and despatched a man to locate him.
“In here,” Big J responded casually.
The man stepped confidently into the control room; stopping abruptly he instantly took in the scene and raised his machine pistol.
“What’s going on here?” he growled.
Using his revolver as a cosh, Mo hit him with a heavy blow across the back of his neck. The man sank unconscious to the floor.
“One more bites the dust — we’ll have ‘em all in no time at this rate!” The smile on Alex’s face faded as their attention was drawn to the drama being played out on the video monitors.