“It’s designed as a shelter,” Marchetti said, “though I wasn’t sure it would survive something like this.” He grabbed the locking bar and then pulled back.
“A little hot?” Paul asked.
Marchetti nodded, got himself ready and grabbed it again. He grunted, trying to force the bar down. It wouldn’t budge and he let go again.
“The heat might have expanded the door,” Marchetti said.
“Let me help,” Paul said. He moved into position, and together the two of them grabbed the bar and put all their weight on it. It snapped downward. Paul shouldered the door and it swung open. He let go of the bar instantly, though his hands felt as if they’d been burned through the Nomex gloves.
Air from the compartment streamed out, mixing with the steam and smoke in the engine room. It was pitch-black in the control room. The only illumination came from the lights on their masks and the flashing strobes on their gear.
They split up. Near the back wall, Paul spotted a man in mechanic’s coveralls lying on the ground. “Over here.”
UP IN THE COMMAND CENTER, all eyes were on the central monitor and the flashing red number indicating the temperature in the engine room. It was slowly dropping, winding down until eventually it changed from red to yellow.
“Almost there,” the chief said. “I’m going to arm the doors.”
Gamay liked the sound of that. She checked the clock. Six minutes had elapsed since Paul’s and Marchetti’s oxygen supply warnings had gone off. For once it felt like they had a margin of error, but she wouldn’t feel safe until her husband was out of that room and back in her arms.
The chief pressed a couple of switches and then checked his board. Whatever he saw aggravated him. He cycled the switches and began flipping a toggle back and forth.
“What’s wrong?”
“The doors aren’t responding,” he said. “I just armed them to open, but they’re remaining in lock-down mode.”
“Could the fire have damaged them?”
“Doubt it,” he said. “They’re designed for this.”
He fiddled with the switches a few more times and then checked something else. “It’s the computer. It’s blocking the directive.”
“Why?”
To her right, Gamay saw Leilani stand. “I know why,” she said. “Otero messed with it.”
“Otero is in the brig,” the chief said.
“Marchetti told me he was a genius with computers,” she said. “He could have planted something ahead of time in case he was caught, in case he needed to cause some trouble and keep Marchetti off balance. Just like he did with the robots.”
The chief continued to try to bypass whatever was blocking him. “It’s definitely the computer,” he said. “Everything else is operating correctly.”
Gamay felt as if she was spinning. How this guy could reach out from the brig and torment them, she didn’t know.
“We need to go down there and force him to deactivate whatever he’s done,” Leilani said. “Put a gun to his head if we have to.”
Gamay’s mind raced. Her balance and convictions against coercion were suddenly fading when she thought of her husband trapped in an engine room filled with toxic fumes and running out of air.
“Gamay,” Leilani pleaded. “I’ve already lost someone to these people. You don’t have to.”
On the monitor, the temperature gauge dropped into the green and the clock ticked into the seventh minute. Paul had three minutes of air.
“Fine,” Gamay said. “But no guns.”
The chief turned to one of his men. “Rocco, take over, I’m going with them.”
Leilani grabbed the door and opened it. Gamay went through, headed for the elevator and the brig with no idea what she was going to do when she got there.
DOWN IN THE ENGINE ROOM, Paul had reached the missing crewman. He crouched beside the man and rolled him over. The man didn’t respond. Paul removed his gloves and checked for a pulse as Marchetti arrived at his side.
“Anything?”
Paul held his hand in place, hoping to sense something he’d missed. “I’m sorry.”
“Damn,” Marchetti said. “All this for nothing.”
Paul felt the same. And then in the flashing of his strobe he noticed something on the side of the man’s neck. He rolled the crewman a half turn and brushed his dark brown hair out of the way.
“Not totally for nothing,” Paul said, aiming his light at a dark bruise on the back of the man’s neck. He felt for the vertebrae, there was no rigidity.
“What’s wrong?”
Paul reached over and switched Marchetti’s radio off and then did the same to his own. Marchetti seemed confused.
With no one else listening Paul felt he could speak freely. He was not normally given to such leaps, preferring to be the calm, rational one while others shouted conspiracy theories and insisted the sky was falling, but he could see no other reason for all that had happened.
He looked Marchetti in the eyes and spoke loud enough for him to hear through the masks. “This man didn’t die from smoke inhalation or the heat. His neck’s broken.”
“Broken?”
Paul nodded. “This man was murdered, Mr. Marchetti. You have a saboteur on board.”
Marchetti looked stunned.
“It’s the only explanation for the fire and systems failures. Since you’re in here with me, I’m assuming it’s not you. But it could be anyone else. One of the skeleton crew or even a stowaway. Probably someone with hidden ties to Otero or Matson. I suggest we keep it to ourselves until we can figure out who it might be.”
Marchetti looked at the dead crewman and then back at Paul. He nodded.
Paul switched his radio on and scooped up the dead man. Marchetti turned his own radio back on. “We’re headed for the main door,” he said, informing the bridge.
DOWN ON THE LOWER DECK, Gamay, Leilani and the chief made it to the brig. The chief used his keys to unlock the cell door. Gamay stepped in. Otero looked up at her from his seat. His sullen eyes were dark.
“We know you’ve messed up the computer system,” she said. “My husband is trapped in the engine room after fighting a fire. You need to enable the doors so he can get out.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because if he dies, it’s murder, and that’s a lot worse for you than what you’ve already done.”
Otero’s head bobbed slightly back and forth as if he were weighing the pros and cons of her request.
“Damn you!” Gamay shouted, stepping forward and slapping him. “There are people here who would kill you for what you’ve already done. I told them it wasn’t necessary, it wasn’t right.”
She grabbed a Wi-Fi-enabled laptop from the chief and shoved it toward him.
Otero looked at it but did nothing.
“I told you he was worthless,” Leilani said.
Looking angry, the chief stepped past Leilani and moved up beside Gamay. “You’ve tried it your way, now I’ll try mine.”
He loomed over Otero. “Open the damn doors or I’ll beat you until you can’t remember your name.”
Otero pulled back a bit, but he seemed less afraid to Gamay than he should have, considering the build of Marchetti’s chief. It took a second to realize why.
The unmistakable sound of a pistol cocking came from behind them, and Gamay’s heart froze.
“No one’s going to get beaten today,” Leilani said from behind them.
Cautiously Gamay turned. Leilani held another gun, different than the one Kurt had taken from her.
“Thanks for moving past me,” she said. “I was wondering how to get the drop on both of you at the same time.”
PAUL and MARCHETTI waited at the main door in the engine room. Time was running out.
“Thirty seconds,” Marchetti said. “Give or take.”
Paul tried to control his breathing. No doubt he’d sucked a lot of oxygen while fighting the fire, he hoped remaining calm at this point would counteract that.