A barrage of small arms fire rang out, and he heard Alexis cursing like he’d never heard a woman curse before. He wished he hadn’t allowed her to take his sidearm. Still, his gun was best with her — he preferred the knife if it came to that.
Another round of fresh creaking and groaning filled the air around them, echoing like a cathedral antechamber.
“We’re sinking,” announced Alexis, as if she hadn’t already said it just moments before, as if the ongoing gunfight was not enough to worry about.
More bullets flew down the corridor, bisecting the space between Dr. Nassiri and the two Americans.
“Want to take a stab at the crush depth?” asked Jonah without turning around.
“No idea,” said Alexis.
“What do we do?” shouted Dr. Nassiri to the Americans through the hatchway.
“Glad you could join us on Planet Earth,” said Jonah. “We can’t fight our way out, not unless they get sloppy.”
“Are they getting sloppy?” asked Alexis.
“No,” answered Jonah over the seemingly nonstop din of incoming bullets.
Theoretically speaking, they had to run out of ammunition at some point. No — no — no—more blood from some unseen nicked artery. Dr. Nassiri pressed his fingers deeper into the wound, trying desperately to find the source, somehow stop it.
“Hey fuckers!” shouted Alexis at the two mercenaries holed up in the forward bow. “We’re sinking! Cut this shit out!”
Jonah waved his hand in the corridor; the mercenaries tried to blow it off. Apparently they weren’t in a talking mood.
“Jonah, I have grenades,” said Alexis. “Two of them.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” said Jonah, smirking. “Worst I’ve heard all day.”
Without another word, he yanked one out of her hands and chucked it down the corridor.
“Cover!” screamed the mercenaries in near-unison.
The guns-for-hire dove into the far forward section, too fast for Jonah to get off an accurate shot, and slammed the heavy steel door behind them. Before they could change their minds, Jonah bolted after them, caught the handle and held it shut. Dr. Nassiri adjusted his body so he could watch the developments down the accessway while still keeping pressure on the Russian’s wounds.
“Is this your plan?” asked Alexis as she went after him, picking up the grenade. “I think you’re supposed to pull the pin.”
“I’m not suicidal. Fire in this compartment could set off the whole ship,” Jonah said. He winced and braced himself against the kicking door as the two men inside struggled to get it open again. Jonah had the upper hand, not from raw strength, but because he’d managed to brace himself in a way where it’d take a hydraulic press to budge it from the other side.
Jonah took his free hand and pointed up at a series of metal tubes running between their compartment and the barricaded bow compartment.
“Alexis, get an axe,” shouted Jonah. “And Doc, get the fuck in here, I need a hand.”
“I’m a bit busy,” snapped Dr. Nassiri from down the corridor.
Alexis pulled a fire axe off of the nearest wall.
“Hassan, I put two shots in his chest,” shouted Jonah, getting angrier by the second. “I assure you, he will die in minutes. I need you right-fucking-now!”
“I’m good with an axe,” said Alexis.
Dr. Nassiri glanced up as Jonah stared him down. It wasn’t as if the American could march over there and make him give up his patient. The door kicked again, almost opening enough to see moving shapes on the other side. Either Jonah was weakening or the men inside were getting desperate.
“Knock out that ceiling pipe,” ordered Jonah, pointing above his head.
Alexis took a single wild swing at the overhead pipe and the axe head clanged off, sending the uncontrolled blade flying downwards, embedding itself in the deck between Jonah’s legs just inches from his crotch.
“Try again,” said Jonah. “Aim for that pipe.”
Alexis scowled as she took aim at the overhead pipe.
The mercenaries behind the door heard the axe-on-metal clanging and renewed their efforts to escape.
Alexis swung the axe a third time, burying it into the pipe. Jonah plastered a wolfish grin on his face, excited by her initial success.
One more shot to the pipe and it came free, exposing a small opening into the other compartment normally reserved for air flow.
“First grenade, no pin pulled,” said Jonah. “Far as you can shove it in.”
Alexis pushed the first phosphorous grenade into the air pipe, bracing herself in the air so she could reach in almost to her shoulder.
“Good,” said Jonah.
“Now what?”
“Now we give them a chance to surrender. Ever seen video of what white phosphorus does to the human body? We put a live grenade in their compartment, it’s going to light up the whole forward like an industrial oven.”
Jonah adjusted his position, still bracing the hatch shut.
“Hey assholes!” shouted Jonah through the heavy hatchway. “Time to pack it in. You’re cornered. You’re outgunned. How about I open this door and see you on your knees, facing me with your hands raised? It’s either that or I swear to god, I will turn you into a smudge on the deck plates.”
The pressure on the other side of the door eased. They’d stopped trying to force their way through.
“What do you say?” yelled Jonah.
“Standing down!” rattled a voice from the other side of the hatch. “We’re standing down!”
Jonah stepped back from the hatchway and allowed it to open slightly only to see the black barrel of an assault rifle jammed through the opening.
“Shiiiiit!” he stuttered and kicked the barrel back into the forward compartment. Using all his strength, he dragged the hatch shut again with a ringing clang as the assault rifle shot twice, bullets ricocheting against the deck and through the accessway.
“Fuck these guys,” he growled, checking himself and Alexis for bullet wounds. “Get the second grenade. Pull the pin; shove it in deep into the pipe, past the dividing wall and into the forward compartment. Close the valve. Can you do that in the six seconds before it detonates?”
“Yes,” answered Alexis.
“Six seconds,” repeated Jonah.
Alexis stared daggers as she yanked the pin and plunged the grenade into the air pipe. She wrenched the pipe valve with all her strength, nearly succeeding in closing it when the explosion went off, shooting a five foot long jet of hot phosphorus flame out of the pipe and shaking the submarine to the keel. Alexis reached up again and just managed to cut off the jet before it set the nearby bunk beds on fire.
From the other side of the steel wall and three hatchways compartments forward, two men screamed as they burned alive. Ammunition cooked off with dull pops, precipitating a secondary explosion and more screaming. Jonah held the door closed against one last kick, waiting for the sickening silence.
Still bracing the door, Jonah grimaced and Alexis shuddered. Dr. Nassiri had seen burn victims, even treated a few; he couldn’t imagine celebrating anyone dying that way, not even a mortal enemy. And what of this supposed victory? Were they victorious in the fact that they would die moments after the mercenaries instead of moments before?
Dr. Nassiri glanced up at the depth gauge as they passed a thousand feet. The very thought of it gave him chills, water the distance of three football pitches weighed down on them. How much could the hull of this vessel take? Probably not much more, judging by the creaking and pinging sounds echoing through the submarine.