“Sanitization… I hope that’s all it is.” Carmack folded his arms.
Sergeant Monroe’s guts ached. His people were out of range, missing or even dead, for all he knew. He cursed Jack Hammerson for involving his team — they were regular soldiers, not Special Forces. He kicked a smoldering beam from his path, and cursed some more.
Monroe bent to pull up another smoking piece of debris — there was nothing that remained of the Chinese base — no survivors, no clues, and he had no idea what he was looking for or actually doing on the foreign nation’s site. Rendering assistance, he might have said if someone asked him.
He lifted something that might have been the sole of a boot. In reality, he just wanted some sign, anything, any clue, that might tell him his team had all gotten into the tunnels, and even better, that there was a way he could get them out.
Sergeant “Wild’ Bill Monroe paused and tilted his head, listening. He could swear he heard a bird whistling. He turned.
The missile impact and detonation carved a crater fifty feet deep and a hundred wide. It melted snow and blasted ice and rock far out over the landscape. Nothing remained of the already decimated base, or the last human being to ever set foot there.
Sam leaned over Sulley, watching the wonders and monstrosities that passed in and out of Orca’s tunnel of light, which was thrown forward into the black water. A while back, a fish, if that’s what it could be called, had glided into the light. It was big, its head armor plated, and its eye was like something set in a mechanical swivel. Sulley had halted the submersible, lest the living battering ram decided to turn and make a run at them. It circled for a minute or two, and then glided off into the darkness.
Earlier they had been traveling on the surface, using the blue twilight to navigate, instead of the energy hungry lights… but that too had proved a mistake. They had been forced to dive again, as something the size of a glider swooped down from the huge cavern’s ceiling. It was all leathery wings and needle toothed snout, and it had snatched at Orca, but probably been surprised to find there wasn’t flesh to sink its talons into, but hard shell. Orca had dropped back into the water and they had immediately dived again.
Sam straightened, wondering what it would have been like to be in that warm water, free floating, exposed to all that. Or maybe worse, in that land with just your wits and a truck load of courage. This was the job they did, he knew. But this was one helluva tough gig. He grimaced, remembering that Aimee Weir was also down there somewhere.
Sam’s comm. unit pinged, and he walked a few paces away from the scientists. It was Hammerson on the line.
“Boss.”
“Sam, please tell me Jack Monroe is with you.”
Sam frowned. “No, sir, haven’t seen him for several hours.”
“Ah, goddammit. He must have gone over to the Chinese base.” Hammerson exhaled. “The Chinese just put a ship-to-shore missile on their base. There’s nothing left.”
“Fuck it.” Sam had liked the McMurdo sergeant. “Did they know he was there?”
Hammerson snorted softly. “What do you think?”
“Yeah, no accident. They wanted to send us a message,” Sam said.
“Time’s just about up. Tell me what you’ve got.”
“Nothing more than what we know — we think Alex survived, and we’re following the shoreline. The Brits here have calibrated their submersible to pick up the Sea Shadow’s distress beacon. We’re following it along a type of coast where we believe Alex has entered. All we can do is watch and wait.”
“Time is the enemy now, Sam. The Chinese fleet has assembled in the Southern Ocean, and we’ll be there within the hour. The president has moved us up to DEFCON-2, so a lot of fingers are on buttons across the globe. Pray Hunter gets to that submarine first.”
“Pray for sanity,” Sam said.
“And if that doesn’t prevail, then pray for a quick and overwhelming war,” Hammerson responded evenly. “Keep me updated.” He clicked off, and Sam turned back to the screen, feeling a knot of impatience coil inside him as he watched and waited.
CHAPTER 58
In another few minutes they were at the hull of the submarine. Up close, Alex could see the damage. The entire vessel looked compressed, as if by a huge hand. It was lying half in the water, with one side tilted towards them. Alex clambered up first, seeing the hatch swung wide, as if the submarine crew had climbed out and left it open in the event they needed to scramble back in fast. He doubted any who left ever made it.
He looked around at the cave of the Kraken one last time. If the Sea Shadow crew did survive, he imagined they must have thought they’d arrived in hell. He looked back at Aimee and then nodded before jumping into the hatch.
He was first to drop down into the vessel, and crouched, staying motionless and trying to sense anything or anyone moving inside the metal tunnels of the submarine’s interior.
He inhaled — dampness. At his feet, there was some water. But not enough to indicate a tear in the sub’s skin. Further in, he saw there were a few small lights on. He knew that without a breach, the nuclear powered electric generator would have kept on humming for fifty years.
One after the other his team dropped down behind him. Alex stood slowly and sniffed again. There was something missing — the odor of decay and corruption — there were no bodies here. Even ancient corruption could paint the walls with fats and oil that lingered for decades.
Rhino was last in, thumping down heavily and then turning to pull the hatch shut behind him and screwing it tight. He stood leaning forward, breathing heavily and with his forehead pressed against the metal ladder bars. After another few seconds he pushed back hard.
“Goddamn Jackson!”
He rammed one huge fist into the sub’s wall, making a dull thud run through the hull. He lowered his head again, crushing his eyes shut.
Casey held onto Jennifer; the McMurdo woman looked to be in shock. She lifted her head to look at Alex. Her mouth worked but no words came. Rhino punched the sub hull again.
“Rinofsky!” Alex’s voice brought Rhino’s head up. “Brave men die young.” Alex then turned to Jennifer. “He was a good man, but the time for mourning is later.”
“Let’s go home,” Soong whispered.
“Works for me,” Casey said.
Rhino stood straighter and nodded once, and then Alex spun away from him. “You heard the lady; let’s go home. Blake get to the bridge, Franks, see what’s working. Rhino, down to the torpedo room. I want to know what we’re still packing. Everyone else, a quick reconnoiter of stores — what have we still got? Five minutes, double time, and then we meet on the bridge.”
Alex went quickly along the steel corridor to the bridge room. It was small, and there was a central column with a periscope. Casey immediately pushed at it but nothing happened.
“Dead,” she said, looking around in the confined space. She whistled. “No wonder we want it back.”
Even though the submarine was nearly a decade old, it looked more like the inside of spaceship than that of an undersea vessel. Gleaming panels with banks of now darkened lights and small screens set into bench tops and walls. A single steering column with a U-shaped wheel had a swivel seat that Blake immediately slipped into, and began fiddling with buttons.
Alex saw that blood ran from Blake’s multiple wounds, down his arms and onto his fingers. “Fix that bleeding, mister.”