lowered his head, and butted the man in the chest, driving him back toward the wall. They both slammed against the row of tanks, dislodging a couple that crashed to the floor and broke open.
The gelatinous creatures in the tanks spilled across the floor. Austin lost his footing in the slippery mess and went down on one knee. He struggled to stand again, and the man kicked him in the side of the face.
But the man slipped in the slimy glop in his second attempt to kick Austin’s head through the goalposts. The blow glanced off Austin’s cheek, rattling his teeth and knocked him over on his right side. The man, regaining his balance, produced a knife from a sheath hanging from his belt and let out a yell. He dove on Austin with knife raised high.
Austin brought his left arm up in what he knew was a futile attempt to block the blade, but at the last second his groping gloved hand snatched up a shard of glass eight inches long and he plunged it into the man’s neck. He heard a gargled shriek of pain and felt a shower of warm blood from the severed jugular. The knife dropped from the man’s fingers. He tried to get to his feet, only to crumple on rubbery legs as the life drained from his body.
Austin rolled out of the way before the man crashed down on him and got unsteadily to his feet. His right wrist was on fire, and he had to use his left hand to retrieve his Bowen. As he stepped carefully around the spreading pool of blood and dozens of dying jellyfish, he took a quick glance at the big tank. The giant mutant jellyfish glowed even brighter. It was as if they had enjoyed the blood sport.
Austin wasted no time putting the nightmarish scene behind him. He set off down a corridor to search for Zavala, wondering what other delightful surprises Davy Jones’s Locker would have to offer.
CHAPTER 43
IT WAS LOIS MITCHELL WHO HAD SUGGESTED A PLACE TO formalize the just-formed alliance with Phelps.
“I’ve been using Dr. Kane’s office,” Lois said. “The guards have been ordered not to bother me while I work. We’ll be all right there for a while.”
“That okay with you, Phelps?” Zavala asked.
“Fine,” Phelps said, “but we’re going to have to do it my way. The lab is still controlled by Chang’s goons, so we can’t just take a stroll.”
Phelps told Mitchell to take the lead and for Zavala to follow her. He brought up the rear, holding his machine pistol at the ready as if he were escorting the other two under guard.
They passed a few of Chang’s men, who gave them a glance and a nod but asked no questions. They avoided the control room, which was off-limits to the staff, and skirted the fermentation lab so as not to arouse curiosity among the scientists.
Despite the direness of the situation, Zavala couldn’t help but grin with appreciation when he ascended the spiral staircase to Kane’s office and saw the colorful schools of fish nosing around the clear Plexiglas dome that were the ceiling and walls.
“This is fantastic!” he said.
Mitchell smiled, and she said, “I agree. I would spend a lot of time here even if it weren’t a refuge from the guards. Please have a seat.”
Mitchell turned up the lights to blot out the fishy distraction and sat behind the desk. Zavala and Phelps settled in chairs. Their newborn coalition was still on a shaky foundation, and the initial moment of uncomfortable silence was broken finally by Phelps, who cleared his throat and asked Zavala, “Where’s your pal Austin?”
Zavala’s instinct to spar went back to his boxing days in college, and he gave Phelps a minimal answer.
“Kurt was on Pohnpei, last I knew.”
Phelps twitched his nose.
“Hope Kurt stays out of Chang’s sights,” he said. “He’s been gunning for your friend.”
“Don’t worry about it, Phelps. Kurt can take care of himself.” Then Zavala asked, “How much time do we have before your boss arrives?”
“He’s probably just about landing on that freighter he uses as a base,” Phelps said. “Ship looks like a rust bucket, but she’ll outrun most her size. There’s even a moon pool for the lab’s shuttle. He’ll use the shuttle to get down in the crater. I’m supposed to make sure everything’s okay with the airlock. That maniac will be here in under an hour. We won’t have a lot of wiggle room once he’s on board.”
“Where’s the staff when they’re not working in the lab?” Zavala asked.
“They’re confined to quarters,” Mitchell said. “They’re kept under pretty tight guard, thanks to Mr. Phelps here.”
“Just doing my job,” Phelps said.
“How do you
“I’ll try my best, Joe, but it won’t be easy.”
“Don’t worry,” Zavala said, “there will be lots of opportunities here to redeem yourself. For a start, do you have any idea how we can get the staff away from the lab?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Phelps said. “We can use the minisubs under the transit hub. They’ll each take four people. We’ve got fifteen scientists down here plus the cargo-shuttle pilot.”
Zavala forgot his throbbing head in his eagerness to go on the offensive.
“You and I can go out the way we came in,” he said. “We’ve got to neutralize those guys on the Typhoon. How many will we have to deal with on the sub?”
“The Triad triplets like to do things in threes,” Phelps said. “Something to do with lucky numbers. They got three squads of three on the sub, which makes nine, minus the two that came down here with us. They’re all armed and meaner than rattle-snakes.”
“They’ve had it easy up until now,” said Zavala, “so they’ve lost their edge and won’t be expecting anything. They won’t have a chance.”
Phelps let out a deep chuckle.
“Like Chesty Puller said when they told him he was surrounded: ‘They won’t get away this time.’ ”
“That’s right,” Zavala said. His mind raced ahead. “Okay, we get the people on the minisubs and they leave the lab . . . Where do they go?”
“Through the big tunnel in the side of the crater,” Phelps said. “They’ve got enough power to get well beyond the reef, past Chang’s freighter, to where they can surface and send out a Mayday.”
“We’ve got to get to the staff and let them know what’s up,” Zavala said.
“I can do it,” Lois Mitchell said. “The guards are used to seeing me around the lab.”
Phelps glanced at his watch.
“That will have to wait until I get back. I’ve got to get things ready for Chang’s arrival. Why don’t you two get to know each other better?”
“Ladies first,” Zavala said after Phelps had closed the door behind him.
Mitchell gave Zavala a brief overview of her work with Dr. Kane and the medusa project, going back to Bonefish Key.
“You’re to be congratulated for the success of the project,” he said.
“I never dreamed it would come to this,” she said. “And you, Mr. Zavala, how did you come to be in this awful place?”
“I’m an engineer with NUMA. My boss, Kurt Austin, and I were asked by the Navy to help search for the lab. So here I am.”
He was surprised when Lois Mitchell didn’t question him further. She seemed distracted, with a far-off look in her eyes that said her thoughts were elsewhere. He had the feeling that she was holding something back. But then she blinked and focused behind Zavala.
“What was that?” she asked.
He turned and saw only the schools of curious fish caught in the light from the office interior.
“Did you see something?” he asked.
“I thought I saw somebody swimming.” She smiled. “Sorry, I’ve been down here too long. Probably a big fish.”
