angle and watched through slitted eyelids as the security man approached.
This one was more cautious, moving slowly and looking at each compartment. Jason let out an internal sigh of relief — only one man had come to investigate. Once more, patience was all he needed.
The man knelt down to examine his prone body, when Jason suddenly sprang to life. One hand reached out and covered the security officer's mouth.
The second brought up the silenced Glock and put a round through his throat. The man fell over, dying from lack of oxygen and unable to make a sound. Jason got to his feet and dragged the man into the same compartment where he'd put the others, then continued on his way.
He knew more would follow when the first man didn't return with a report. In a few minutes, the deck would be swarming with sailors trying to figure out what was going on. Moving on quick, silent feet, Jason made his way to the engine-room compartment and peered inside.
Three more sailors were on duty there, watching gauges and manning the computers that controlled the engine and propulsion systems.
Things are about to get interesting, he thought.
At that moment, an alarm began ringing throughout the sub and a voice over the internal address system said, 'Red alert! Red alert! There is an intruder on board. All hands to stations! All hands to stations! Security to check all decks!'
So much for the element of surprise, Jason thought. He stepped into the engine control room.
Still reacting to the sudden alarm, the sailors didn't even see him at first, and two were down before the third realized that his companions were dead. He jumped for a switch on one console — obviously an alarm of some kind — and Jason almost didn't reach him in time.
He grabbed the sailor, yanking him backward and onto the hard metal of the deck. 'Don't,' he said, pointing the Glock. The young sailor held up his hands in surrender.
Jason gestured with the gun. 'Shut the compartment door and lock it,' he ordered.
Nodding, the sailor climbed to his feet and shut the compartment hatch, then turned the wheel that slid the lock bolts into place. He stepped away from the door, once again lifting his hands.
'Sit down,' Jason told him, motioning to a chair. The young man took a seat and Jason quickly bound his hands with a plastic cord he carried in his pack. 'Now, you can sit quietly and live,' he told him, 'or you can die. Your choice.'
'I will be as silent as a mouse,' the kid said.
'Good choice,' he replied. He took his pack off and began removing the C-4 charges. The engine room was usually a loud place, but since the sub was currently at stop and the engines were shut down, it was fairly quiet.
He began placing charges in key system locations — propulsion, oxygen exchanger, combustion and fuel, as well as near the hull itself. The series of concussions from the explosions might be enough to blow a hole in the side of the sub itself, but either way, once the explosions hit, the sub would remain on the bottom of the ocean.
And the Russians couldn't risk the kind of retrieval mission it would take to get it back.
His handheld beeped softly and he pulled it from his cargo pocket. The screen read, 'Search complete. Download?'
He quickly typed in the commands to have the sub's plans downloaded to his handheld and the laptop itself.
'You will…blow up our submarine?' the Russian asked.
'I thought I told you to sit quietly,' Jason said.
'I do not want to die,' the kid said. 'Please.'
'There are escape pods built into this vessel,' Jason said. 'Maybe not enough for everyone, but you might get lucky.'
The kid nodded in sour understanding.
As Jason finished wiring the detonators, someone tried to open the compartment door and quickly discovered that it was locked from the inside. 'Damn,' he said. 'I really don't want to go down with the ship myself.'
Someone began hammering on the door and Jason risked a glance through the small porthole. Three security officers were standing outside, demanding that the engine crew open up. Thinking quickly, Jason moved to where he had the sailor tied up and drew a blade from a sheath on his ankle.
The Russian's eyes widened in fear. 'I'm not going to kill you…yet,' Jason said.
He sliced through the plastic cuffs and said, 'You're going to answer the door and let them in,' he said. 'You'll act like nothing is wrong. Don't interfere when they come in, and you may live through this yet.' He offered his best cold stare and added, 'Understand?'
'Yes,' the sailor said. 'I understand.'
Jason pulled out the Glock again and noted the wear and tear on the silencer. He'd need to replace it after this encounter. He stepped behind the door and motioned for the sailor to open the hatch.
The sailor spun the wheel and stepped out of the way as the three security men burst into the room, all of them talking at once, too busy jabbering about an intruder to notice the two bodies already lying on the deck. Jason fired his first two rounds in milliseconds, needing little time to aim at this distance. The third security man dived for cover, and that was when the young sailor tried to be a make a run for it.
Kicking out with one foot, Jason slammed the hatch shut, which the kid ran into full tilt. There was a dull sound as his head connected with the metal of the hatch and he dropped as if he'd been poleaxed. The momentary distraction, however, was enough for the security man to take a shot, and Jason felt the burning sting of a graze in his left shoulder. The force of it was enough to spin him sideways.
'Damn it,' he said, adjusting his position on the fly. He went all the way to the deck, rolled and came up firing. His first round was wide, but the second hit the security officer in the chest, driving him back into the computer console. His fingers squeezed the trigger spasmodically, and the rounds hit the metal plating on the floor and ricocheted several times around the room before stopping.
Jason breathed a sigh of relief. 'With my luck lately, I'd have been killed by a ricochet.' His handheld beeped and he glanced at it quickly. The screen read, 'Download complete.'
'Good enough for government work,' he said. He looked down at the unconscious sailor on the floor. There was nothing he could do for him now. Ignoring the stinging pain in his left arm, Jason moved back to the hatch and peered into the hallway.
Sailors were running every which way, trying to figure out where the intruder was. The bodies of the others must have been found. Still, in this kind of confusion and chaos, it was possible he might have a chance to slip through unnoticed.
'Sorry, kid,' he said, opening the door and stepping back into the hallway. He left it open and walked ten full paces before he reached into his pocket and pushed the button that would detonate the C-4. He had five minutes before the explosives would blow.
He moved quickly through the crowd, keeping his head down and using his fluent Russian to occasionally shout out responses to questions.
'Where is the intruder?' one sailor asked.
'I think he went up a deck,' Jason replied. 'Security needs all the help they can get!' He shoved the man in the direction of the nearest ladder.
In a time of crisis, Jason knew people often want to be told what to do, and this man was no exception.
Once, a security officer grabbed him and said, 'Have you seen Vladimir?'
Jason nodded. 'He went to the bridge to report something.'
The security officer ran off, never looking back.
It took him the better part of four minutes by his count to reach the torpedo-room hatch. Glancing behind him and seeing no one following, he opened it and stepped inside, pulling it shut behind him.
He didn't see the massive fist that slammed into his already tender ribs, nor the one that followed it, which connected with his jaw and sent him flying to the deck. He grunted in pain as he hit, rolled and came up shaking his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.
