Bridger leaned forward in the command chair.
On one of the VR screens, he saw the elegantly curved exterior wall of SousMer, and Phillips's hand yanking down hard on the emergency handle.
Nothing was happening.
"Hitchcock," Bridger said to his engineer, standing next to him, "what's the problem?"
"Captain—I don't know. It should open. Unless there's some kind of internal lock. Could be that—"
"Great. And they're stuck out there knocking on the door."
"Are you going to have them try another—"
And then—on the screen—there was movement. The panel in the side of the underwater complex opened, and Phillips turned and gave a thumbs-up sign at Ford.
"Lieutenant Bachmann—tell Darwin to stand by. God, things are going to happen fast now."
Ford pulled himself into the interior chamber after Phillips, and he wondered what kind of alarms were going off now—or if Lucas had already cracked the security system, masking their entrance.
Come on, Lucas, he thought. Be as good as you say you are.
The chamber had ladders inside that led from the opening up into the water-filled compartment. Ford climbed quickly, taking the metal steps two at a time. Phillips, right behind him, pointed ahead, at another handle and buttons at the other end.
Yes, that must be it, Ford figured. That handle must be the way to shut the panel, drain the water, and get some air inside.
Ford reached the handle and gave it a quick yank—and suddenly he heard the sound of the panel closing again and water being sucked out. The water moved fast, but still they had to wait until the room was only dripping.
Then Ford hit another button—and the entrance to SousMer opened.
They were staring at two people who had electron-mag guns pointed right at them.
Darwin kept swimming back and forth, looking at the curious thing. And he could picture what it would do, the brilliant explosion, the fire—the pain. He could understand that.
It didn't look like anything bad... but Darwin knew what it could do.
So Darwin tried very hard not to think about that.
The small submersible broke the surface of the pool. Mary looked through the glass and once again saw the shiny metal of the sub pool's walls.
"Okay," she said to Gooding. "Go wherever you have to fast and get the gate open." She turned to Cutter. "What's going on inside?"
"No communications, nothing in code at least, nothing leaving the resort."
"Then why the hell are they screwing with us?"
The sub moved slowly, gliding close to one of the bays.
"Can't you go any faster?"
"I'm trying to dock it," Gooding said.
Mary looked at her watch. The gold bullion should be somewhere over the Pacific, heading toward the drop site. And time had almost run out for SousMer.
Which means... that time has almost run out for us, Mary thought.
"Move it," she whispered. "Move it..."
On the screens, Bridger saw the guns aimed at Ford and Phillips.
Crocker watched beside him. "Quite a welcome they're getting, eh, Captain?"
"Lucas," Bridger said into his microphone. "Lucas, are you into the computer yet?"
"Not completely, sir. It has some wicked ICE, especially around its security programs. In a few minutes I should have access to everything."
Bridger looked over at Bachmann. "Can we risk voice contact?"
"It might be picked up, sir."
Bridger shook his head.
"Okay... okay, I'll wait—and see what happens."
And that's when Bridger saw Terry McShane. Short auburn hair, green eyes, a face from his past—and for a minute he was speechless.
McShane spoke to the two divers.
Most likely they were from seaQuest, but she had to be sure.
"Okay, could you two stand over there, against the wall?"
The two men didn't move, and McShane realized that they couldn't hear her through their helmets. She made a gesture for them to remove them. It's okay, she signaled. She saw the seaQuest logo on their suits.
So this is the cavalry...
The two men removed their helmets and McShane half-expected to see Nathan Bridger in the flesh.
One helmet came off, and a handsome African-American smiled at her. "We're from the seaQuest." He stuck out his hand, still encased in the bulky glove. "Lieutenant Commander Jonathan Ford," the man said. "Executive officer, seaQuest DSV."
The other man had his helmet off too. "Weapons Officer Phillips," he said.
McShane shook their hands and took a breath. "We think that whoever planted the bombs is still down at the sub pool. They tried to get out, but we closed the gate."
Ford whispered. "And they didn't blow the place?"
"Guess they're considering other options."
Farrand, the SousMer director, stood next to McShane and spoke up. "There's an emergency opening, an override that will open the gate. Commander, they have one of our people with them. A hostage."
Ford nodded. "The way I see it, we're all hostages." He pulled on the strip that opened up his EVA suit and slipped his arms out. Phillips did the same.
"Are there any other explosives inside? Have you seen anything else?"
The director shrugged. "No, we haven't seen anything—and we've searched all over the ship."
Phillips nodded. "Can you give me some men? I can start sweeping the resort. I brought a low-density scanner that will pick up any bio-explosives, stuff you may have missed."
Ford spoke into a small microphone he disconnected from his helmet.
"Captain—we're on board, and proceeding with all speed."
Then Terry McShane heard Bridger's voice. "I can see that—better get going."
There was a pause.
"And give my regards to McShane."
Mary scrambled out, followed by Gooding.
"Come on, will you? Stop moving so bloody slowly."
This wasn't designed to be a suicide mission, and Mary had no intention of turning it into one.
Cutter popped his head up.
"Mary—I'm getting lots of traffic now. They're talking to seaQuest again. And there's something wrong with the SousMer computer system. I don't know. It's almost like—"
But Mary followed Gooding over to a pale blue console. Nothing was labeled, so she'd only have Gooding's word that these buttons could actually get the sea gate open.
"You know what to do here?"
Gooding nodded. "Sure. I only have to—"
"Hey—" Cutter's voice echoed eerily in the pool. 'The whole system's down. Or something—"
"Open the gate now!" Mary said.
They ran, full out, to the back staircase.
Ford followed McShane, and behind them trailed three heavily armed SousMer guards who looked real nervous. They hadn't bargained for this...
"I hope you've used those guns before," Ford said to them. Everyone liked their rent-a-cops to carry the new electron-mag weapons. But not everyone made sure that they were trained to use them.
Ford opened a metal door and took the spiral staircase that bypassed the living quarters of the resort and twisted down to the sub pool.
And he thought:
In a few minutes this will be all over—or we'll all be dead.
Bridger stood up. "Come on, Lucas, tell me that you're—"
"I'm in, sir. Too cool—I'm in! It's our baby now. I'm inside the main programming unit of the resort. And now—wait a second—I do believe I'm even linked with the rogue computer inside. Too much!"
Bridger spoke to the air, while everyone on the bridge waited, breathlessly, listening to their own master hacker.
"Lucas... can you bring that computer down."
"Better, Captain. I can make it look like it's off-line for just a minute—there!—and then—everything's fine."
Bridger laughed. Gator was looking at him, a curious expression on his face. "Everything's fine?"
"Yes, sir. Now the rogue computer is back on-line—except I'll see every command a few milliseconds before it's carried out."
Bridger walked over to Communications. "No word from Ford, Phillips?"
Bachmann shook his head. "Should I give them a buzz. Captain?"
"No. Let's just try to be patient..."
Bridger began pacing.
Phillips's scanner found the explosive within minutes. It wasn't hard, with the right scanning equipment, he knew. Too bad the resort didn't carry state-of-the-art stuff. They might not have been in this spot...
I bet the wine cellar can’t be beat, he thought. The director stood beside him and peered into the shaft. "Where does this go?" Phillips asked.
"Er, I’m not too sure—"
Another man came forward, obviously the engineer of the place. "That leads to the power plants."
"Is that bad?" Farrand said.
"It isn't good, sir," Phillips said, and he crawled into the shaft.
Ford stood next to McShane, outside two silvery doors. "In here?" he whispered.
McShane nodded.
He held his breath. No telling what was waiting for them on the other side.
Ford turned to the SousMer guards. "On three... Ready... one... two—"
Cutter stood out of the sub's open hatch. "It's okay now. The computer's working fine. Don't know what happened—"
Mary turned to him and yelled. "Get back inside. Cutter. We're getting out of here as soon as the sea gate's open."
She saw Cutter nod. Then she saw him look up... and turn, as if he heard something, as if—
"What is it?" she said.
But then Mary heard the noise as doors to the sub pool flew open.
Harpe's assistant said, "The pilot wants direct confirmation, voice confirmation from you, Mr. Harpe."
And Geoffrey Harpe nodded. He walked over to the desk and took the headset from the woman.
"Hello, this is Geoffrey Harpe."
He heard the pilot's voice in his ear.
"Sir, I'd like you to confirm the order that I've been given."
"Yes, it's true. I want you to turn around immediately, return to—I don't know—I guess our Hong Kong airstrip would be the closest."
"But, sir, what about the drop, the gold?"
Harpe wasn't used to explaining things to employees.
"There will be no drop," Harpe said flatly. No need to explain that it would be throwing good money after bad, that the resort was probably doomed anyway. Best to look to the future...
The pilot didn't say anything.
"Could you acknowledge my order?" This was getting annoying.
"Yes, sir. I'm turning back now."
Harpe handed the headset back.
"What the—" Mary said, as she watched the people come into the pool area. "Get down!" she yelled at Cutter.
Standing there, so stupid, a liability now. A stupid target.
"The gate's open," Gooding said.
There was no way, Mary thought, no way to get to the sub, no way to get out—
"Freeze," a voice bellowed from the other end. "Don't move or touch anything. It's all over, just stay there."
Mary stood there. And yes, it did appear to be all over.
She looked at Gooding.
All over, unless...
She grabbed Gooding, yanked him close, and planted her gun flush against his head.
"No," she yelled back. "Don't try to stop us or I'll kill this man."
She started moving to the sub.
The people at the other end didn't move, only a moment's hesitation, a ripple of indecision—but enough for Mary to gain a few more steps to the sub.
She dragged Gooding one step, then another—closer to the sub entrance.
Ford stood there. "Who is that?" he said to McShane.
"He's with the resort."
"And he's not with them?"
"No—at least, they didn't think so."
One life. Ford thought, against all the lives inside the resort. Ford knew that Bridger was listening to every step, every movement.
"We've got to take them," Ford said quietly.
But McShane touched his arm. "See that man in the sub. He can probably set off the explosives. What about him?"
And, Ford thought, what about Phillips? Where was he?
"Captain," Ford said, speaking to Bridger. Timing was everything now. It all came down to time. "If you're ready, sir—I think we have to make our move."
The woman with the gun was only a few meters from the sub entrance... her stun gun held right against the side of the man's head.
Which was when something strange happened.