phase of the operation that had caused him his only misgivings about this task. If it was discovered that the ferry had been sabotaged then any investigation would become a murder inquiry. A motive would have to be found, which could lead to a scrutiny of the goings-on in the prison. If the feds learned that Gann was possibly involved his past would come flying out of the closet and he would never see the light of day again. Gann had a lot riding on the prison’s future, hence the personal risk he was willing to take to save it. Everything would be fine as long as the incident looked like an accident.
As he zipped up his suit and positioned the hood on top of his head he pondered the risks to his own survival one more time. He looped the strap attached to the small diving bottle over one shoulder and faced the emergency escape tube. Water was streaming in through the gap in the open door to the main cabin and had reached the opening to the tube.
Gann got down onto his knees, felt for the hatch under the water and pushed it open against its counterweight springs. He took a breath, dipped below the surface, reached up into the tube and pulled himself inside. The tube was dry and he could breathe the air. He climbed up into the narrow space like a grub making its way back inside its cocoon, pulled his feet out of the water and stood on the inside rim of the hatch.
The tube was a tight fit for a man Gann’s size and he had not forgotten how hard it had been to reach down and close the hatch during his training course. It had become easier once he’d developed a few techniques. He reached down with a foot and kicked the hatch away as hard as he could. When it sprang back up he caught the inside wheel with his foot and held the hatch shut while stretching one arm down. With an effort, he managed to get a couple of fingers to the wheel, his face pressing painfully against the tube’s sides, and, aided by his foot, he turned the wheel several times to screw the locking cleats into place. When the wheel would turn no further Gann wiggled himself upright, his head an inch below the wheel of the top hatch and a small built-in light that shone in his face.
He looped the air-bottle harness over his head, making sure that he knew where the mouthpiece and mask were on the other end of the hose and, by the glow from the small light, he found the breathing tube that was plugged into the vessel’s air supply. He placed the mouthpiece between his lips, took a couple of breaths to confirm it was working and turned the flood valve in front of him.Water immediately began to gush into the tube and bubble up over his legs.
‘Palanski!’ Stratton shouted. If the threat of drowning didn’t wake the guard no amount of yelling was going to. Stratton felt around with his feet and found one of Palanski’s legs. He dragged it closer with his heel and stamped on it repeatedly.‘Palanski! Get back here! Wake up!’
Palanski began to choke as the water lapped over his mouth. He suddenly made a move towards consciousness as his eyes fluttered open and he fought to raise his head out of the water.
‘Palanski! Concentrate! You have to get us out of here! The chain-release lever. Palanski!’
Palanski battled to get a hold of himself as blood continued to seep from the wound on his head. He looked around, suddenly conscious of the desperation around him. Men were screaming, pulling at their chains. One was praying loudly, begging God to forgive him for his sins.
Palanski made an abortive move towards Stratton. But when he put his weight onto his broken elbow he cried out as the pain shot through him like a bolt of lightning.
‘Fight it, Palanski!’ Stratton shouted.
The sudden pain seemed to help Palanski stay conscious and he appeared more focused as he locked stares with Stratton.
‘The chain release,’ Stratton shouted. ‘Get us out of here.’
The guard pushed himself away from the bulkhead with his good hand.
‘That’s good. Keep coming!’
Palanski reached out and Stratton offered a shoulder for the guard to take hold of. Palanski pulled himself alongside.
‘Under my seat. The lever. You know where it is.’
Palanski nodded, his breathing laboured, and shuffled around to face the end of the row.
‘Come on, Palanski!’ the man beside Stratton shouted past him. ‘All you gotta do is pull that fuckin’ lever.’
Palanski reached down and felt for the box and the small opening on the face of it. His face dipped into the ever-rising water as he reached inside the opening and then he appeared to give up.
‘Palanski. We’re going to die if you don’t get us out,’ Stratton urged.
Palanski looked dazed. ‘Gettin’ . . . a . . . breath,’ he muttered. He winced against the excruciating pain, then gritted his teeth, took a breath and plunged beneath the surface of the water that was now lapping at the prisoners’ chests.
Ramos, shorter than the others, was crying out as he struggled to keep his chin above the froth.
Palanski surfaced, choking and coughing. ‘Can’t . . . can’t reach it,’ he stammered.
‘It’s there, Palanski! You know where it is. All you have to do is grab hold and pull it. Forget the pain. You’ll have years to remember it.’ Stratton was becoming stressed, his mind chasing ahead to what little he could do even if he did get free of his chains.The first problem was going to be everyone else. If Palanski did release them there would be half a dozen men thrashing around in an ever-decreasing space. It didn’t look good and Stratton was starting to try and come to terms with the fact that he was not going to survive this one.There was just too much to overcome. The water was now up to his shoulders.
A high-pitched scream made him look over his shoulder to see Ramos going absolutely frantic, yelling insanely as he forced his mouth up above the rising water as far as it could possibly go. The water began to pour into it and he spat it out as quickly as he could.
Stratton looked back at Palanski in time to see him take a deep breath and disappear below the surface. He watched the swirling space that Palanski had occupied a second earlier, knowing that he himself would soon be beneath the water.
Ramos was spitting and gurgling as the water finally covered his mouth. He stretched to take another breath and his eyes bulged as he held on to the last few precious seconds of his life. He shook violently as he made a final Herculean effort to free his hands and then the water covered his eyes. Bubbles broke the surface around Ramos’s head and he went still.
Stratton looked up at the ceiling but what he was seeing in his head was the chain-release mechanism, having studied it and every other device in the ferry and the prison that had anything to do with escape. It was a ring-shaped handle inside a tube in a box, not the most convenient design, low to the deck, intended to prevent easy access by a seated prisoner. Palanski had to get close to the floor and reach inside before he could grip the ring and pull it towards him.
As the water touched Stratton’s chin he put his head back a little. He was cold but that was the least of his problems. His mind singled out the smell of the sea, an indication of how tuned his senses had become as adrenalin coursed through his body.The shouting had all but ceased. Stratton wondered how many prisoners were already dead.Those that still lived were, like him, coming to terms with the approaching end.
The water reached Stratton’s mouth and as he automatically stretched his neck and head up to hang on for as long as he could he felt his hands move up an inch from the seat, enough for him to forget his imminent death for a moment. He took a breath, dropped his head below the water and felt between his thighs for the hook in the seat. Palanski had not managed to pull the handle all the way and had only partially released the securing cable. Stratton yanked on it with all his remaining strength. It suddenly came up another inch and he unhooked his chains and burst to the surface. A second later the man beside him appeared, spluttering and gulping for air. None of the others, including Palanski, joined them.
All Stratton could think of now was that he’d been given a little more time, only seconds perhaps, and that he had to find a way to survive this. He believed in his theory that there was always a solution, the only limitations being his inability to find it.
The airlock door to the OCR hissed and clunked as it opened inwards and Mandrick entered. ‘What’s the situation?’ he calmly asked the senior controller who was standing at the console looking at a row of monitors. A couple of them showed murky, poorly lit exterior images. A white blob in the distance was the slowly approaching ferry.