"Sam?" Nina was taken aback to see Sam climbing the ladder, closely followed by Purdue, Fatima, Matlock, Jefferson, and Alexandr "What's happening?"
One by one the others squeezed onto the deck, which could comfortably hold two or three people but not seven. Purdue was yelling Blomstein's name over and over, along with demands to know what he was doing, but he got no response. As soon as they were all off the ladder, the hatch slammed shut and they heard the squeak of the wheel being turned to seal it.
"He's gone mad!" Purdue cried. "Is it the virus? He just ordered us all off the boat!"
With a sickening lurch, the nose of the U-boat began to tip downwards.
"He's diving!" Nina yelled. "Alexandr — with me!" She half-climbed, half-vaulted over the platform's railing onto the slippery surface of the submarine. Without question Alexandr followed, and together they heaved open the life raft container attached to the hull. The water lapped about their ankles as they unrolled the rubber raft, and as Nina popped the CO2 canister it was up to their knees. "Get in!" she shouted, pulling herself up over the side. "And hang on!"
They clung to the sides of the raft as the U-boat submerged, each one hoping that the flimsy vessel would not be capsized by the wave created in the submarine's wake. Purdue gazed at the water closing over the submarine, a look of perplexity on his face as Blomstein dived alone.
Admiral Whitsun permitted himself a slight smile as he lowered the binoculars. He had seen the expedition party abandon ship and watched as the U-boat sank beneath the waves. The binoculars were not powerful enough for him to make out facial expressions, but he could tell from everyone's body language that there was panic among the group. He allowed himself to imagine the look of terror on Sam Cleave's face as he realized that his only possible fate was a freezing watery grave. The sale of the biological weapons from Wolfenstein would go ahead, and the memory of the admiral's son would be avenged. All in all, risking a trip to the Antarctic at his age had turned out to be worthwhile.
"One has to admire their spirit," he mused. "Getting that thing working in the first place was quite a feat. However, it has let them down at the last." Once the U-boat was well and truly out of sight he turned to Captain Belvedere. "Change of plans. Shoot down their raft. I shall be in my quarters, arranging the rendezvous."
"Admiral Whitsun!" The voice of the navigation officer crackled over the radio. "Incoming! The submarine is approaching from the southeast, sir! It looks like it's on a collision course, aiming straight—"
The young man's voice cut off as the U-boat crashed headlong into the fuel tanks.
"He's hit the fuel tanks!" Purdue laughed and punched the air. "Well done, Ziv! That will sort them out!"
Sam and the others watched in horrified amazement as the ship's fuel tanks exploded. Dirty orange flames licked up the side of the destroyer and twisted the metal hull into filigree. Tiny dark figures besmirched with streaks of fire leaped from the decks into the deadly water below, early casualties who could not wait for the lifeboats. The white sky darkened to a lowering black as the columns of thick smoke dissipated and spread out.
Eventually, after what felt like an age, they saw the lifeboats being lowered and men from the destroyer piling in. Their own little raft bobbed and rocked as the destroyer fell to pieces, sending aftershocks surging across the distance between them. In the constant diffuse daylight of the Antarctic, it was impossible to tell how long they sat silently watching the demise of the ship.
"Listen," Alexandr whispered. His head was cocked and he was trying to pick out a new sound, something that was not the scream of a dying ship. Suddenly he pointed upward.
"A helicopter!" Professor Matlock cried. "At last!" He stretched his arms as far as they would go and began to wave them frantically. It only took a split second for the others to join in, yelling and signaling until they nearly overturned the raft.
It did no good, though. The helicopter flew on, disappearing into the dark billows of smoke. Just as the expedition party was about to lapse into dejection, Fatima spotted another vessel on the horizon.
"Do we hail it?" she asked. "Or is this one coming to finish us off?"
"No," Purdue sat bolt upright and smiled. "We hail this one. That's my boat!"
Nina had never been so grateful to feel a blanket around her shoulders or a mug of hot tea in her hands. Feeling the solid deck beneath her feet, sitting in a comparatively spacious crew room — it all felt luxurious after the events of the past few days. Best of all, the crew was incredibly lax about antismoking laws and generous with cigarettes. As she sucked the smoke down into her lungs she felt it warm her, comfort her, calm her down, and console her when she put her hand in her pocket and realized that the letters and diaries she had taken from the skeleton were now just mush. The waves that had soaked her as she stood waving the white flag had ruined the artifacts. She took another puff and tried to put it from her mind. Much to her surprise, Sam was sitting beside her with a cigarette in his hand, not smoking it. She checked that it was lit and saw that it was.
"Sam? Are you ok?"
Sam did not reply. He just sat staring at the floor, not moving. The blanket hung loosely from his shoulders. Now that she thought about it, Sam had not said a word since the U-boat had hit the destroyer. She wondered whether to push him further, but she had never seen him looking so far gone into his own private world. Best leave him alone, she decided.
Purdue was busy haranguing the captain of the charter boat, demanding to know why they had not responded to any of his transmissions. The captain, an American by the name of Lassiter, insisted that they had received two signals from Purdue and had responded to both before losing his position. Unable to locate the group by GPS, they had waited at Deception Island until the destroyer had broadcast a Mayday call asking any vessels in the area to respond. The charter boat, being close by, had set out on a rescue mission — and found the expedition party by accident, mistaking them for survivors of the destroyer wreck.
"Well, be that as it may," Purdue waved a dismissive hand at Captain Lassiter. "The important thing is that you're here now, and we are more than ready to return to Ushuaia. Let's get on our way, shall we?"
"Um, Mr. Purdue?" Captain Lassiter looked uneasy. "We'd better go pick up the remaining survivors first."
The look Purdue gave him could have shattered glass. "I did not charter this boat as a rescue vessel, Captain Lassiter. Set a course for Ushuaia, if you would be so good."
"Maybe I should get our doctor to come and look you all over, Mr. Purdue," Captain Lassiter suggested. "You're obviously under a whole lot of strain right now, and I completely understand that, but—"
"Captain Lassiter," Purdue hissed, two pink spots appearing in his pale cheeks, "I am ordering you to ignore the destroyer. Leave it to its fate. Take us to Ushuaia. Now."
The young captain looked Purdue up and down, and Nina could see his jaw tense. "Mr. Purdue," he said calmly and carefully, "I am going to turn this boat around and pick up any survivors I can find. We will then take them to Deception Island. Then, and only then, will we proceed to Ushuaia. I can see that you have been under a lot of pressure and are not thinking straight. I suggest that you go to your quarters and recover. If you refuse, I will have you escorted from the deck and placed in quarantine for your own safety for the rest of the journey. Is that clear?"
Purdue stared furiously at the captain. He looked like he was about to speak, but then thought better of it. Instead he turned on his heel and stormed off in the direction of the cabins, without saying a word more to Captain Lassiter.