Pitt recoiled as Pablo reversed his swing, but he was still tagged in the ribs with a sharp whack that sent him reeling. He managed to stay on his feet and backpedaled as Pablo came after him again.
The rail cut the air with a whistling sound as Pablo swung it like a scythe. “You’ve come a long way to die here.”
“Not far enough,” Pitt replied.
Staggering backward to avoid the swinging rail, Pitt had almost reached the gates and the crew boat tied at the end of the dock. The chamber was draining quickly, and the crew boat had already dropped more than twenty feet. He glanced at the boat but saw it was too far to jump.
Sensing Pitt’s vulnerability, Pablo closed in for the kill, swinging the rail even harder.
Pitt saw that the weight of the rail was beginning to slow Pablo’s backswings and he decided to take the offensive. He stepped back as Pablo whipped the bar at him, but rather than keep retreating, he planted his feet and sprang forward.
Pablo reacted by pulling the rail to his chest in defense as Pitt barreled into him. Pitt managed to catch Pablo slightly off balance and he staggered to the side. Pitt pressed the charge, grabbing the rail alongside Pablo’s hands and bulling into him as hard as he could.
Pablo had no choice but to step back and try to regain his leverage. But he had been turned sideways to the dock, and when he tried to plant a foot behind him, he found only air. He tumbled backward off the edge of the dock, taking Pitt with him.
From the base of the control house, Dirk and Ann had watched the battle while the guards held them at gunpoint. Dirk saw the two men fall into the chamber with a large splash and waited for them to surface. As the water settled, he began counting the seconds—and felt a cold chill.
After more than a minute, neither man had returned to the surface.
76
PABLO TOOK THE BRUNT OF THE FALL INTO THE lock chamber, landing on his back as Pitt drove him into the water. From the height of the dock, it felt like he had hit a concrete pad. The impact knocked the breath out of him while his back erupted in pain. His body tensed, shocked to inactivity.
Pitt, however, stayed in control when he hit the water. He kicked his legs hard, driving his opponent deep. With his diving experience, he figured he could outlast Pablo in the water, and pressed on the rail to drive him as far down as possible.
Focused on his attack, Pitt didn’t notice the pull of the swirling water. He was surprised, though, to quickly feel pressure in his ears, and he waggled his jaw to clear them.
Slowly recovering from the shock of impact, Pablo’s first instinct was to wrestle away the steel rail. But Pitt clung tight, using it to press Pablo deeper. Pablo finally came to his senses and realized he needed air. He pushed himself away from the rail, kicking to the side to escape Pitt.
But a strange thing happened. Instead of ascending, he was drawn deeper by an unseen force. Unnerved, he reached back and grabbed the rail while kicking furiously.
On the opposite side of the rail, Pitt stopped kicking, but another ache in his ears told him they were being sucked to the bottom.
The two men had fallen into the lock chamber directly over one of the drainage wells that dotted its floor. When valves in the wells were opened, the chamber’s water would drain through them into a lateral culvert, which fed an even larger culvert built into the wall. At over eighteen feet in diameter, this huge pipe emptied into Miraflores Lake.
Near the surface, the swirling of the draining water was barely noticeable. But at the bottom of the chamber, it became an inescapable whirlpool. Like Pablo, Pitt briefly let go of the rail and tried to kick to the surface. But the suction of the water refused to release its grip. Pitt brushed against Pablo in the turbulence and regripped the rail, positioning himself parallel to the bottom.
The draw of the water accelerated, pulling them forcefully to the well’s four-foot-wide mouth. Pablo fought the downforce, but his legs and torso were sucked into the pipe. The rail would have been swallowed also, but at the last second Pitt muscled it sideways. It clanged atop the circular concrete well, jerking both men to a halt. Neither realized how hard the water had been pulling them and both nearly lost their grip.
The impact threw Pitt off balance, and his legs were sucked into the well. The rest of his body followed, and he found himself hanging side by side with Pablo, clinging to the steel rail overhead, as thousands of gallons of water rushed past them. No longer concerned with battling each other, each man fought for his life.
Their descent had taken only half a minute, but because of their exertions both men were out of air. Pablo had fought to maintain his breath since hitting the water and now he began to struggle. His heart raced and his head ached. The fear of drowning flooded his thoughts, and he panicked.
Hanging just inches away, Pitt could see Pablo’s eyes bulge and his face shudder.
Desperation took hold, and Pablo gave in to his instincts. Letting go of the rail, he kicked and clawed, trying to swim to the surface.
He had no chance.
Instead he whisked past Pitt, disappearing into the depths of the well.
Pablo’s surrender only served to give Pitt more resolve. He focused on maintaining his grip on the rail and tried not to think about the pounding in his brain or the overwhelming urge to inhale. He knew the locks could be filled or drained quickly. And the water level had already dropped by more than twenty feet since they had fallen into the chamber. Pitt told himself the draining would have to end soon.
As his fingers went numb, he detected a deep rumble beneath him. For a moment, he felt the draining water pull even harder. It was the valves inside the drainage wells turning to close. Then he heard a bang, and the water ceased its deadly pull.
Unbelieving at first, Pitt pulled on the rail and found himself ascending. He let go and kicked hard, exhaling, long and slow, his reserve of air as he rose. It was still thirty feet to the surface, but he reached it quickly, gasping in the humid air that greeted him.
As he regained his senses, he heard shouts from the dock high above and an engine revving nearby. The lock gates had opened, and Bolcke was engaging the boat to leave the chamber. Two canal workers tossing down the mooring lines spotted Pitt in the water and called to one of the guards.
Bolcke spotted Pitt, too, and gunned the engine, ignoring the tossed lines. The crew boat leaped forward toward the open gates, spilling the stern line in the water.
Pitt reacted at once, swimming a few short strokes and grabbing the floating line. It went taut, yanking him through the water, as the guard arrived and shouted at Bolcke to stop. Bolcke ignored the request, pushing down on the throttle.
Pitt felt like his arms were being yanked out of their sockets, but he hung on as the boat zipped ahead.
Clearing the lock, Bolcke looked back and cursed at seeing Pitt in tow. Leaving the boat’s controls, he stepped to the stern line and released the secured end from its deck cleat.
The line bounded over the stern, freeing the boat and Bolcke from the relentless man who refused to let go.
77
RUDI, YOU BETTER GET DOWN HERE RIGHT AWAY.”
“Okay, Hiram, on my way.” Gunn hung up the phone and bolted from his office. Rather than wait for an elevator, he ran down a stairwell and emerged in the NUMA computer center seconds later.
Yaeger sat in his command chair in front of the massive video screen. It showed a freighter moving slowly into a narrow compartment.
“What do you have?” Gunn looked at the screen.
“Panama Canal. This is the Pedro Miguel Locks, viewed through one of the Canal Authority’s live video feeds. I’ve been monitoring their cameras while waiting to hear from Dirk and Summer about the raid.”