‘You had the brief when you got here. When the power failed their door should’ve gone to manual override. They have a key in the room.’
‘Well, something ain’t working.’
The controller ignored Hank as he checked various gauges.
‘You’re just gonna leave ’em there?’ Hank growled.
‘They’re probably already dead.’
‘That ain’t good enough.’
The controller left the panel and walked past him. ‘Zack. Your barge leaves now. I’ll wait as long as I can before I push off.’
Zack ushered his guards into his barge and prepared to close the airtight door.
‘Are you gonna help my guys or not?’ Hank asked angrily.
The controller walked over to a guard, pulled a crank key off his belt and held it out to Hank. ‘I’ve got a job to do.
Hank took the handle and looked back at the entrance to the room. The water was flooding in.
‘C cell’s on level one but as you know you’ve got to pass through level three to get to it from here,’ the controller said, trying to maintain his calm. ‘Before you go you might want to consider the chances that you’ll make it back here.’
‘You ain’t gonna wait?’
‘I’ll wait as long as I can!’ the controller shouted at the top of his voice. ‘That means when I think the remaining escape barge is at risk by staying here we’re cutting loose! With or without you. Is that clear?’ he shouted, his face red.
Hank looked at the other guards, realised that he was being unreasonable and lost some of his steam. ‘Do you know where Mandrick is?’ he asked in a more subdued voice.
‘At his own presidential escape pod if he has any sense. It’s easier to get to him from C cell than back here but if you do get your guys out you won’t all fit in it. My guess is that Mandrick’s already gone, anyway.’
Hank wasn’t just frustrated because of his missing people.The flooding prison had also drowned his future. Everything he had worked for was about to be washed up on the beach and he knew who was behind it. He gripped the crank handle firmly as if it had become a weapon and hurried out of the room.
The controller faced Zack who was waiting for any changes to his orders. ‘Get going.’
Zack walked into the airlock and with the controller’s help closed the outer watertight door. He marched down the short connecting corridor and into the barge. ‘Let’s go,’ he said and the nearby guards closed the inner door and screwed the cleats home, making it watertight. ‘Everyone make sure you’re secure in your seats. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.’ Zack went to the instrument panel and turned several dials as gas hissed from pipes along the ceiling. He concentrated on a series of gauges as their needles climbed.
‘Listen up. This is how it’s gonna work. When the barge releases it’s gonna float straight to the surface. Like I said, it’ll be a bumpy ride. The barge might go up at an angle which is why you stay strapped into your seats. There’s a drag cable on the bottom to stop it inverting - if it works. If you start feeling a little weird don’t worry about it. When we hit the surface we’re gonna remain at Styx depth pressure inside here. The barge’ll expand a little but the system’s designed to compensate for the pressure. Anyone starts getting pains, live with it. We got no medical aid for the bends on board. On the surface we wait for the emergency crews who should already be waiting for us. We’ve got enough air to last twenty-four hours. That’s more than enough for the crews to attach a decompression system to that docking hatch,’ Zack said, pointing to a hatch in the roof. ‘We’ll all stay in here, in our seats until the barge decompresses. We got a little water, no food, and a bucket latrine over there so sit tight and relax. Breathe easy. Any of you Talibutts speak English translate what I said for the others.You can also pass it on that if any of you guys wanna fuck around, try any of your suicide shit, I’ll kill yer.’
‘And you’ll have a little help too,’ said one of the burly white prisoners, eyeing the Afghans with a sour grimace.
‘The emergency team’ll be accompanied by armed guards,’ Zack went on. ‘So if any of you are thinking this could be a good time to make a break for it, forget it. They’ll shoot to kill anyone trying to escape.’
Zack faced the panel and turned several wheels that allowed water to flood the short corridor between the outer and inner doors. One of the guards watched through a small glass porthole in the door. When the corridor was full Zack operated a gas-activated mechanism. There was a series of loud clunks and then the barge jolted heavily. This was followed by the sound of creaking as if the barge was stretching. Another massive jolt suddenly shook the vessel. Many of those inside feared that it signalled a disaster about to happen. A long silence followed, broken only by the gentle hissing of gas. One side of the barge started to rise and the water under the decking rushed to the opposite row of benches, drenching the legs of those sitting there. Zack secured himself into a seat as the barge levelled out before rising up on the other side. This time those sitting on the other row got a soaking.The entire barge creaked and groaned as the outside pressure reduced.
Zack stared at the main depth gauge on the panel. The needle dropped from the fifty-metre mark and speedily made its way to the forty-metre marker.
Stratton walked into the hospital to find Christine crouched over Doctor Mani who was lying on the floor on his back. Durrani was on his side not far away and Stratton went directly to him. He turned the Afghan over to make two immediate discoveries. First, the cut in his abdomen was open and the tablet had obviously been removed. Second: the man was dead.
Stratton looked at Mani who was barely conscious. Blood seeped from the dressing that both he and Christine were holding against his gut.
‘We have to get out of here,’ Stratton shouted above the sound of the klaxons.
Christine did not respond. Her hands were trembling and only then did Stratton notice in the poor light that her face was badly bruised. Her eyes were glazed and staring ahead as if she was looking at nothing.
‘Hey,’ he said in a softer voice as he touched her shoulder.
She snapped a look at him, her eyes filled with anger.
He held her gaze, trying to appear sympathetic. ‘Let me take over,’ he said, putting his hand on the dressing, hoping the offer might signal his friendship.
The gesture appeared to have the desired effect. Her expression softened as if she had returned from wherever she’d been and her eyes flickered as they moistened. Stratton felt for a pulse in Mani’s neck. The doctor’s heart was beating rapidly, along with his breathing. The man was slipping away as his blood flowed from his body. He would not last long without a massive blood transfusion and surgery to close the internal injury.The journey to the escape barge would kill him even if Stratton could carry him all the way there. ‘Can you hear me?’ he asked him.
Mani’s eyes flickered open and he looked at Stratton like a child waking up to find his father there, happy to see him. ‘Is it bad?’ he asked.
‘You’ve lost a lot of blood,’ Stratton said.
‘I thought so.’
‘Did you take anything from the Afghan’s belly? Was it you who opened him up?’ Stratton asked.
A frown grew on Mani’s brow as he fought to collect his thoughts. He smiled. ‘It was very small,’ he said. Then he had a sudden thought: ‘Was he a spy?’
Christine began to take an interest in the odd conversation.
‘Where is it?’ Stratton asked.
Mani started to slip away, his eyes glazing over.
‘Doc . . . Is it here, in this room?’ Stratton persisted.
Mani struggled to hold on to consciousness. ‘Mandrick has it,’ he gasped. ‘I gave it to Mandrick . . .’
It was his last word. The air left his lungs and his muscles relaxed.
Stratton got to his feet, fighting to retrieve the map of the prison in his memory and see the warden’s escape pod on it.
Christine withdrew her bloody hands, unsure where to wipe them. As she got to her feet she realised that Stratton’s clothes were soaked through.At the same time it became apparent to her that the cacophony of alarms was not inside her head but was real.‘What’s happening?’ she asked.
‘We need to get out of here.’
