Stratton had not forgotten.
‘He’ll get picked up when he surfaces,’ she said. ‘The feds still want him.’
‘That’s not good for me, though. The feds’ll get what I came for . . . But he knows they’ll be waiting for him. That’s why he’s still down there. That pod’s designed to decompress at depth. He’ll surface when it’s done . . . You have any idea what time it is?’
‘It was around four p.m. when I went to see Mandrick. Dinner’s at six but I wanted to see him a couple of hours earlier. It couldn’t have been more than an hour after that when the alarms went off.’
‘That means it’ll be dark when we surface. He needs it to be dark.We’re ten miles off the coast. Not a problem if you’re wearing the right gear. He’ll be miles out of the area by dawn. On the road by late morning.’
Christine had nothing consolatory to offer.
‘Unless we’re there when he surfaces,’ Stratton added.
‘He must’ve started his decompression long before us.’
Stratton had already thought of that.
She wondered what was going through his mind. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re planning on taking another risk before we’re even done with this one?’
‘I want to finish what I came for.’
‘I’ve been around special ops for a few years now and I’ve never met anyone like you before.What drives you?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Fear of failing? No. I have that but I’m not in your league.’
‘I get as scared as the next person. I suppose I just don’t know when to quit until I’m in over my head. Then I have to figure how to get out. So far I’ve been lucky.’
‘You’ve solved one puzzle for me.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I’ve wanted to be like you all my life. But I never made it because deep down I didn’t really believe you existed . . . Thanks.’
‘You hitting on me?’
‘Could be my last chance. This is the new me. It’s your fault. I see what I want and now I’m going for it.’
They chuckled together.
‘We should relax and save our air,’ Stratton said. ‘Try to sleep. I’ll stay awake.’
Christine rested her head comfortably against him, enjoying the closeness despite the circumstances. He placed the palm of his hand against the side of her head.
She mused thoughtfully for some time but her eyelids soon grew heavy as the events of the day drained her. Seconds after closing her eyes she fell into a deep sleep. It seemed to her as though only a few minutes had passed before the digital clock chirped.
She sat up, wondering where she was for a second.
Stratton took the pliers and reached down into the water. He jiggled with the clamp and a few seconds later the drum began to roll and the bell ascended.
He adjusted the gas, adding some oxygen to the mix, breathing in and out deeply, hoping he might spot any dangerous symptoms before they incapacitated him. He had experienced decompression sickness before during a familiarisation exercise in an RAF decompression chamber before a week of HALO jumps with the SAS. The team had been inside a large chamber containing chairs and tables and had been invited to occupy themselves with a variety of games such as kit construction or drawing pictures. In Stratton’s case he’d had to continually subtract seven from four hundred.
It was odd the way some had reacted differently to others. And at different periods of the decompression process. Some people had lasted barely a minute before they’d begun to act strangely, drawing wildly or becoming hysterical. One of the guys had started to do a little jig. Assistants wearing oxygen masks had been on hand to give oxygen immediately to anyone who showed signs of going under. Stratton had concentrated everything he had into subtracting his numbers and when the decompression had reached a dangerous level the pressure had been reversed and the exercise brought to a stop. When Stratton had reviewed his maths afterwards he’d found that he’d only made a couple of mistakes and had wondered if that was down to poor arithmetic or if he had started to succumb.
The bell came to a sudden stop and Christine tried to make herself comfortable against him once again but she was becoming fidgety. She chuckled to herself as she pulled the blanket down. Stratton was immediately aware of a change in her.
‘Let’s go for a swim,’ Christine said, giggling.
Stratton reached for the oxygen bottle and turned it on, giving the bell a good burst to increase the partial pressure, hoping that was the right solution. Christine started to relax and although she was breathing heavily at first she calmed down to a normal level and lay quietly against him.
He offered her the water container, which was getting light. She took a small sip. He elected to pass on his drink for the moment and replaced the cap.
The hours passed by slowly but the stop times became shorter until they reached the final one. Stratton set the digital watch. ‘How’re you feeling?’ he asked.
‘I’m OK. I was in and out of dizziness a few times.’
‘You have any muscle pains . . . headaches?’
‘My head’s fine. I think I’m OK everywhere else, too. This isn’t the most comfortable eight hours I’ve ever spent . . . except for the company, which I’ve enjoyed more than I can remember enjoying anyone’s company before.’
‘Do I need to give you a little more oxygen?’
Christine smiled. ‘I’m not talking crap,’ she said, looking into his eyes. ‘You’re a hell of a guy, whoever you are.’
Stratton looked a little embarrassed, unused as he was to compliments. It made him even more attractive to her and she kissed him gently on the side of his mouth. ‘Whatever happens . . . thanks.’
‘It was my pleasure.’
She rested her head on his shoulder again.
‘We’re ten metres from the surface, give or take whatever the tide’s doing.’
Christine looked at Stratton in surprise. ‘Only ten? You mean we’ve made it?’
‘Only thing I remember about decompression stops is the last one is usually ten metres from the surface.’
‘I don’t believe it - I mean, I do. I just don’t.’
‘I can feel pins and needles in my fingers.’
‘Me too. Is that bad?’
‘We’ll probably need a recompression. But I think we’ll be fine,’ he said, getting off the strut to sit opposite her.
Christine could see he had something on his mind. ‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Mandrick. I can’t let him go.’
‘What can you do about it?’
‘I can be there when he surfaces.’
‘You don’t know when that’ll be. He might wait down there for hours.’
‘No. He has air limits too. He’ll do around the same time as us. But if I’m down here when he surfaces I’ll lose him.’
‘Is it OK to skip this last stop?’
‘It won’t kill me. As long as I can get to a chamber soon after.’
‘And if you can’t?’
‘There’ll be one on board the rescue craft.’
‘So your plan is to swim around up there, hoping he pops up right beside you?’
‘You’ve got a better idea?’
‘Yes. You’ve done your job as best you could. You nearly died, half a dozen times, trying to succeed. You said
