When he opened his eyes, the world was a blur. He tasted something salty and put a hand to his mouth, it came away red with blood. Blood that was trickling from a gash in his forehead, running down his nose and onto his lips.
His vision began to clear, and he realized he was in the driver’s seat of a motor vehicle. The windshield in front of him was smashed in a starburst pattern that lined up with his head. The nose of the vehicle was pointed down at a sharp angle, like he’d driven into a ditch.
Even as his other symptoms cleared, the strange noise continued. It even became more distinct, sounding for all the world like a giant fan turning at moderate speed.
Shouts from outside the Jeep reached his ears.
“Over here,” someone said.
“Get a crowbar.”
The door beside him moved. Fingers appeared around the edge and wrenched it several inches. A face appeared in the gap.
“Are you okay, mate?” a man in army fatigues asked.
Joe put a hand to the gash on his forehead. “I’ve been better.”
“Sit tight. We’re gonna get you out.”
The soldier went to work on the bent and twisted door, helped by another soldier who’d brought a crowbar. Together, they forced the door wider an inch at a time.
As they worked, Joe’s memory returned. He was in Australia. He’d been chasing after another vehicle. He tried to peer around the starburst in the windshield for any sign of the hovercraft, thinking for a moment that they might have hit head-on. He saw only the dirt wall of the gully he’d gone into.
The door beside him finally broke loose, and the soldiers reached in to help him. With care, they pulled him free of the mangled wreck. As one of them searched the Jeep, the other led Joe out of the ditch and toward a tan-colored NH90 helicopter with Australian military markings.
Now Joe realized where the odd sound had been coming from. The rotors above the big transport were still turning.
A stern-looking man in a black suit met him a few feet from the helicopter’s door.
“Are you the one who called us in?” the man asked. “On Bradshaw’s radio?”
Joe nodded. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“The guys I was chasing,” Joe explained, “did you catch them? They were in a hovercraft.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Hovercraft?”
“I know it sounds crazy,” Joe said, “but that’s what they were driving. Afraid I can’t give you a make and model.”
The man shook his head glumly. “Whatever they were in, we didn’t find them.” He motioned toward the open door of the helicopter. “We have to debrief you. This bird will take you back to Alice Springs.”
“What about Bradshaw?” Joe asked.
“He was medevaced out thirty minutes ago.”
“Thirty minutes ago?” Confusion swept over Joe. He felt like he’d made the call no less than thirty seconds ago. Even given his few minutes of unconsciousness, they couldn’t have gotten to Bradshaw that quickly.
Only then did he realize it was nearly dark. The sun had been dropping toward the horizon during his chase, but it was long gone now. Only a faded orange glow lingered in the darkening sky.
The helicopter blades began to accelerate above them as the pilot spooled up for liftoff. “It took us a while to find you,” the man explained.
“What about Kurt?”
“Who?”
“Kurt Austin.”
“I don’t know that name,” the man said. He took Joe’s arm and ushered him toward the door. “Please, we have to go.”
Joe shook loose from the man’s grasp. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to my friend. He went down into the mine to rescue your divers.”
The official made a strange face. “There was an explosion,” he said. “If your friend survived, he’s been flown out. But no one’s left at the lake now except the dead.”
With a sick feeling in his heart, Joe climbed aboard the helicopter and strapped himself in. As he flew, night tightened its grip on the land. By the time he arrived at the Australian military base outside Alice Springs, the sky was like black cloth punctured by some of the brightest stars Joe had ever seen.
He was taken to the infirmary first. A young doctor looked him over and tested for signs of chemical or metal poisoning. After informing Joe that he’d live, the doctor left and an even younger nurse came in. She stitched up the gash in his head where he’d smashed it into the windshield.
Shortly after finishing, she jabbed him in the arm with a shot.
“Oww!”
“Tetanus and antibiotics,” she said.
“Sure,” Joe said, rubbing his bicep. “But aren’t you supposed to warn me or tell me that that’s not going to hurt first?”
“Why lie?” she asked. “Besides, I thought you Yanks were tough.”
“It’s been a rough day,” he admitted. “Speaking of Yanks, have you treated any other Americans tonight? Maybe a guy six feet tall with silver hair.”
“Sorry,” she said, packing up her things, “you’re the first.”
After the nurse left, Joe was taken to a different section of the base. It seemed like basic housing or perhaps quarters for the NCOs.
His escort/guard opened the door to reveal a room with two bunks, a utilitarian desk placed between them, and cinder-block walls. It reminded Joe of a dorm room, right down to the roommate already lying on one of the beds with his feet up.
Joe stepped inside, the door was locked behind him, and Kurt Austin sat up.
“Damn, I’m glad to see you,” Joe said. “They had me thinking you’d become part of the junk pile at the bottom of that mine.”
Kurt stood and gave Joe a bear hug. “I had a similar fear about you. Didn’t expect to surface and find Bradshaw, sunning himself on the beach unattended. I was afraid those thugs got the drop on you.”
“I figured he wasn’t up to four-wheeling through the desert,” Joe replied.
Kurt looked at him oddly. “I’m guessing by the stitches that your chase ended with some extracurricular activities?”
“No,” Joe said, “I didn’t catch them. I ended up in a ditch somehow. But considering how well I was doing up until that point, I’m thinking about entering the Baja 1000 next year.”
“You don’t win the Baja by crashing, Joe. You know that, right?”
“I didn’t crash, amigo, I was…” Joe paused. “Okay, I guess I did crash, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my fault.”
The vagueness of his own recollection was puzzling to Joe. He tried hard to remember. “One second, I was going head-on with them… there was a flash, like the glare of sunlight off a pane of glass, and then… I must have swerved. Though, I honestly can’t remember.”
“You sound like Bradshaw,” Kurt noted.
“How is he, by the way?”
“Alive, thanks to you. They had him in surgery.”
Joe was glad to hear that. “Did you find your scientist down there?”
“Her and another diver from the ASIO. They were basically strapped to a bomb. We escaped, but the station imploded.”
“Are they all right?”
“As far as I know,” Kurt said. “I lost track of them for a moment when the station blew. When I found them, both were unconscious. But thanks to the gripper claws you put on the front of the speeder, I was able to grab them and bring them slowly to the surface.”
Joe smiled with pride. “So the speeder performed like a champ. I knew it would.”
“You may have a future in this submarine business,” Kurt said. “That is, if you can give up your dreams of middle management and off-road racing.”
Joe laughed and took a seat at the desk between the two bunks. He rapped his knuckles against the cinder-block wall. “So are we in prison or protective custody?”