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He pulled his dive knife out of the sheath on his thigh and began sawing at the ropes. He sensed movement out of the corner of his mask, looked up to see a diver bearing down on him, a knife in his hand.
As the man swam closer, Nicholas saw through the face mask a scar bisecting the man’s eye and cheek, and a rictus of a smile around the regulator in his mouth. It wasn’t Havelock.
This must be the man März.
Had he come off the submersible? Yes, that was why Havelock had backed off for a moment. Nicholas swam backward and up, still sawing on the ropes.
Nicholas realized März didn’t want to get into a knife fight, he wanted to cut Nicholas’s air hose.
The submersible was backing away, its lights growing dimmer. Nicholas hoped März hadn’t killed Halpern.
Nicholas used his DPD as a shield as März came at him and kept cutting away the net on his legs. Finally, he kicked free of the netting as März swam over him, knife ready to slice through the tubing on Nicholas’s back. Nicholas corkscrewed in the water and thrust his own knife at März’s thigh as he swam past.
He missed.
März grabbed Nicholas’s tank and got his arm around his neck. He cut through the air hose to Nicholas’s regulator, sending a cloud of bubbles bursting upward. Nicholas twisted, felt März’s knife slash through his dry suit and into his arm, then his knee struck Nicholas’s hand and he dropped his knife. Nicholas managed to jerk free and swing his DPD around, hitting März in the face, shoving him backward.
There was a sudden whooshing sound and Nic
holas could swear he saw a torpedo shoot through the water not six feet away.
He couldn’t begin to understand what was happening. He was running out of breath. He grabbed for the secondary regulator on his shoulder, but he didn’t have time to suck in a breath. März turned a tight somersault and reversed fast, right in Nicholas’s face, his knife up and ready. Nicholas punched his fist into his mask, knocking it half off his face, then he ripped the mask all the way off, and caught März’s face between his hands. He shoved his thumbs into his eyes and pushed, hard.
There was a loud boom. The concussion tumbled both men backward, grappling for a hold on each other.
Nicholas heard the screech of metal, but he knew Havelock hadn’t sent a torpedo into the sub, otherwise the concussion of the blast would have killed them.
So who had fired at what?
Nicholas’s arm was bleeding, he was getting light-headed but knew if he passed out, he’d be dead. He grabbed März’s foot, and jerked him backward, until he was able to flip him around. März struggled even as the stirred-up silt blinded him. He got his thumbs into März’s eyes again and squeezed. A moment later, he felt something give way.
März jerked and danced in his hands, ribbons of blood curling around their heads. Nicholas ripped the regulator from März’s mouth, and sucked in air. Then he held März’s body between his legs and twisted his neck until he heard the crack of bone. He shoved his secondary air in his mouth, took a huge breath, and let go of März. He was facing Nicholas as he fell away, his eyes black holes, his head now dangling sideways. Nicholas watched his body hang limp in the water before slowly, slowly gliding downward.
Nicholas checked his air tank. His air was low, too low, but he hoped there was enough to make a decompression stop on the way up.
He started a slow ascent, carefully breathing in and out. Mike suddenly appeared in his brain, arms crossed over her chest, tapping her foot. Was she calling him a lamebrain? A set of fins came into view. It was Halpern, he was alive and waiting for him. He’d never been happier to see someone in his life.
Nicholas saw the air gauge on his dive computer was flashing red. He made a cut across his throat. Halpern quickly gave him his own regulator, and pointed to his dive watch, signaled three minutes.
Nicholas pointed to his arm where blood snaked into the water, and Halpern grabbed on to him. They hung quietly, off-gassing for a full three minutes, sharing the regulator back and forth.
Together they rose in an octopus ascent, skimming gently higher and higher, minute by minute, careful and smart, hanging still for another agonizing three minutes, then finally broke the surface. Nicholas saw the Dover not fifty feet away, and the men on deck shouting to them. Nicholas followed their pointing fingers and saw that Havelock’s ship, the Gravitania, was on fire, raging flames amidships, her nose now pointing to the sky. He watched as she slipped silently into the sea.
77
9:00 p.m.
Mike paced the deck of the HMS Dover, watching for Nicholas and Halpern. She’d had a firsthand view of everything Nicholas saw until März attacked. The initial impact had knocked the camera free. She’d never been so afraid in her life. She prayed, promising every good deed she could think of if only the right men would surface. She wouldn’t believe März had won.
The sun was gone, the air brisk and cool. They were using the ship’s big lights to scan the water. A young sailor joined her. “Ma’am? The captain’s asked for you. We have a hit on our sonar. We believe it’s the submersible you’re looking for.”
The Dover had steamed into the loch at the same moment Nicholas and März faced off. They’d gotten both Mike and Shepherd off the Gravitania, and onto the deck of the Dover. Shepherd was being treated in their sick bay, and Mike had briefed the ship’s captain. He’d immediately set to work looking for Havelock’s submersible. And now they’d found it.
Captain Kinsley showed her the spot on the screen. “It came from that narrow strip of land over there about five minutes ago. We can take it out with a single shot, it’s not moving fast enough to outrun us.”
“You’re sure it isn’t Drummond and Halpern?”
“It’s too big to be men, it’s displacing too much water, and moving at about four knots. I’m sure it’s not divers.”
