Barracuda (22 page)

But why all this grief on the night of the grand
opening and the elaborate fireworks display? Andrej had to complete
this mission before Hiroshi or the home office learned of the
“Great Bible Transgression.”

***

Just before Micko slipped into the water, Regis
pointed toward Eneu Island across the atoll. The visibility was so
good that the men could see the two Majestic dive boats pulling the
fireworks barge. This delay would almost cost Micko his life as
their attention was focused east instead of south.

***

“Quick! Get in the water! Hurry!” Tanya ordered.
She could see that the men on the
Hummingbird
were
distracted by the flotilla from Eneu, giving her henchmen time to
get into position without being discovered.

Nike entered the water fist, and Disco lowered
the heavy equipment to him from the leeward side of the boat so no
one on the
Hummingbird
could see them. The devious pair
managed to get in the water and begin executing their plan before
Micko even left the
Hummingbird
.

Disco knew that this would be a long, deep,
gruesome dive, so he connected the long hang hoses well before they
entered the water. His last words to Tanya were, “Keep an eye on
the hoses and make sure that the air is turned on. We will need a
long deco hang after the job is done.”

***

Micko finally took his eyes off the riveting
scene developing from across the lagoon and did a backward roll off
the gunwale. He splashed noisily and descended immediately without
bobbing to the surface to give a diver okay signal. He wanted to
complete the dive quickly after gaining the information he had
sought. Something was bothering him, and he wanted to be off the
water because the water was the source of his concern.

Normally, Micko admired nature’s underwater
wonderland, but on this occasion, he simply dove down the mooring
line. The line was connected to a large concrete slab that lay in
the sand a dozen feet in front of the
Apogon
’s bow. Micko
followed the line down to the soft sandy bottom. He knew that the
small skiff was at the stern section of the submarine and began to
swim past the bow and toward the stern. Taking a quick look into
the submarine’s bow firing rubes he was amazed to see that there
was a rusty torpedo visible in one tube. Evidently, the outer tube
door cover had been jarred loose either during the initial sinking
or from the storms and tidal surges that had taken place over the
past fifty years. Micko made a mental note to speak to Steve about
this extremely dangerous condition.

He swam across the sub until he came to the
wreck of the small skiff and shone his powerful light on it. The
curiously pink paint had been obscured from his view over one
hundred feet higher the day before, but now it was clearly evident.
James had also stated that the boat had a small white rabbit
painted at the rear where the motor was attached, and Micko saw the
rabbit as clear as day. He started humming the Jefferson Airplane
song when he spotted something in the sand near the skiff—an empty
bottle of Leningrad Gold Vodka. This was the personal stock of
Disco and the Russians, and it was not sold at the resort.

Micko moved in to collect the bottle, still
humming the song when he thought he heard an airplane underwater.
He looked at the submarine
Apogon
that was sitting upright;
the noise couldn’t be coming from there. He checked his gauges,
thinking he might be having a serious bout of nitrogen narcosis. He
was at 180 fsw and could easily be narced. He grabbed the bottle
and placed it inside his BC vest pocket.

Suddenly, Micko saw a flash of bright yellow fly
past him on the right and then another one on his left. Both yellow
objects banked sharply and flew past him the way they had come. At
depth, things always took several seconds to make sense. Quickly he
realized that the two objects were powerful underwater scooters
driven by two divers. At first, he only saw the bubbles and
turbulence that trailed the motors, but just as it was becoming
clear in his head, the nearly invisible wire caught his legs. The
scooters were rigged with fishing reels of thin spider wire that
were wrapping around him. They had made several passes before Micko
realized what was happening.

He tried to make a mad dash to the submarine,
but his legs were hopelessly garroted. He used his hands to pull
himself along the sand toward the sub to cut off the scooters’
angle.

Suddenly, Micko felt himself being jerked
upward. The scooters had a good hold on his legs and they pulled
him up to the submarine’s conning tower; in a few minutes, he was
securely lashed to the highest point of the sub.

He could hear the faint whine of the scooters’
motors retreating as he contemplated his precarious situation.
Stop! Think! Act!
This was the mantra that every diver was
taught to follow.
Never panic or you will die!
Micko stopped
and calmly slowed his breathing. He thought it was remarkable how
clearly he was thinking. The scooters would not come back since
they had probably come a long distance from the sport boat, and the
divers needed to get added air and deco. He was alone and had to
figure things out for himself. He was tied from the legs and the
top of his scuba tank. His hands were free, but he couldn’t reach
the long knife strapped to his calf because the wire was wound
tight around the knife and his legs.

Micko reached up on the shoulder harness of his
BC vest and removed a small knife with a three-inch blade.
Unfortunately, the knife was too small to handle the incredible
strength of the spider wire. He calmly replaced the useless blade
and checked his air supply. The air was good for another five
minutes or so.
Think, damn it! Think!

Like a bolt out of the blue, he remembered the
surgical scissors inside of his BC vest pocket. He always carried
these scissors ever since being snared in spider wire on a wreck
off the North Carolina coast years ago. He carefully removed the
empty vodka bottle and pulled out the scissors with the elastic
lanyard. Then he replaced the bottle and began cutting the wire
from his legs. It was not an easy task, but he still had plenty of
air to spare when his legs were free. The wire had cut up his dive
suit pretty good and didn’t spare his flesh.

Micko tried to cut the wire that was caught
above and behind his head on the scuba tank valve. It was
impossible.
Stop! Think! Act!
He needed a new plan, and
fast. He was just as snared to the conning tower as he had been
when his legs were bound. There was only one recourse. He had to
free himself from the BC vest and his air supply in order to leave
his underwater prison.

He looked to the surface; the vertical
visibility was incredible. He could actually see the
Hummingbird
and the deco line hanging over the side. Micko
slipped out of his BC vest but kept his regulator in his mouth as
he surveyed the tangle of restraining wire. He determined that he
would not have enough air to free the BC vest and scuba tank, so he
took a deep breath and made an emergency ascent aiming for the
life-saving air in the deco line under the boat.

As an experienced dive master, Micko knew how to
make an emergency ascent. He would have to slowly exhale all the
air out of his lungs while rising toward the surface. If he rose
too quickly with too much air in his lungs, he would die an
excruciatingly painful death from an air embolism or lung
expansion.

Micko swam upward to the second stage hanging
twenty feet below the
Hummingbird
. As soon as he got close,
he expelled all of the air from his lungs and slowly sucked in the
cool mixed gas that would save his life and allow him to hang until
his deco was complete.

***

Tanya watched as the twin scooters dove under
the
Happy Monkey
en route to their murderous mission. She’d
told the two men to dive deep and follow the ocean floor so they
wouldn’t be seen from above or below. Traveling the distance at 180
fsw meant the men would need a long deco time after the job was
done. Disco had already set up the deco lines in anticipation of
the long hang time. All Tanya had to do was wait—but she didn’t
just wait. She had a devious plan of her own.

***

Disco and Nike traveled back toward the
Happy
Monkey
, secure in the knowledge that the cop would never be
able to free himself and would soon run out of air. By the time
anyone on the
Hummingbird
knew he was in trouble, it would
be too late. Even if they sent down a diver to help, it would take
too long to free him before he drowned.

Their scooters shot across the ocean floor in a
straight line back to Tanya and the boat. The divers’ air supply
was running very low, and they looked at each other anxiously. Soon
they were below the
Happy Monkey
and slowly began their
ascent to the deco lines with the dormant scooters connected to
their BC vests.

Suddenly, Nike gave Disco the “out of air” sign
by cutting his hand across his throat. Disco could see that Nike’s
eyes were wide with terror. Disco signaled to him to drop the
scooter and swim up to the hanging regulators.

Nike unbuckled his D ring clip, dropped the
scooter, and swam quickly to the first hanging regulator, breathing
deeply. Disco ascended much more slowly as he watched the psi in
his scuba tank drop below one hundred pounds. He knew that his tank
was done, so he shot the remaining air into his BC vest for added
buoyancy. Disco rose to the extra deco regulator just as his scuba
tank ran out of air.

He grabbed the second deco line and attempted to
inhale a long breath of mixed gas to help him breathe and deco, but
there was nothing coming out of the regulator. Now his eyes widened
as he tried again and failed. The topside scuba tank must have been
turned off. Furiously, he swam over to Nike, ripped the regulator
right out of his mouth, and took a quick gulp of air. Before Disco
could use hand signals to indicate that they had to use the buddy
system on the single air hose. Nike grabbed it back. His panic
level was out of control, and Disco knew there was only one
alternative. If they swam for the surface, they would die. The two
divers fought fiercely over the hose of life until Disco pulled out
his dive knife and repeatedly stabbed his dive buddy and friend.
Soon Disco had the air to himself as Nike released his grip on the
regulator. He was barely holding onto Disco’s BC vest harness when
he suddenly pulled his own knife, and with his last breath, struck
out at Disco. The blade sliced though Disco’s BC vest, but missed
his flesh.

Disco watched Nike slowly sink like a slow
motion movie of a man falling from a tall building to the concrete
far below. The red billows of blood turned darker colors as the
mortally wounded diver sank farther away from Disco. Disco was
celebrating his good fortune at not being nicked by Nike’s blade
when he realized his situation was much worse. All the air had
flowed out of the hole in Disco’s BC vest and water rushed in. He
was becoming severely over-weighted, especially with the scooter
still attached, and was sinking rapidly, helpless to stop it. He
still had a death grip on the hose and the regulator was still
giving him fresh air, but as he sank further, the hose snapped and
his life-saving air supply was cut off.

As usual, things happen in slow motion
underwater. Disco realized that he had to drop the excessive weight
or he would be dragged to the sea floor. He tried to unbuckle
himself from his BC vest, and the heavy scooter, but it was a race
against time. The precious air in his lungs was running out. He
stared up at the
Happy Monkey
as he finally dropped his
cumbersome load.
Hold your breath for a few more seconds and
you’ll be at the surface!
He kicked with all he had, but it
wasn’t enough. The closer he got to the surface, the faster he
kicked.
I’m gonna make it! I’m gonna make it!
he thought.
But he nearly lost consciousness a few feet from the surface, and
as he inhaled the first terrible mouthful of briny water, he had a
comical thought.
Who named the boat the
Happy Monkey
and
why?
It was his last thought as he fell into unconsciousness
and slowly sank, landing on the ocean floor next to his onetime
buddy, Nike.

10

Micko reached the hanging hose and calmly
breathed the gas mix that would save his life. He kept an eye on
his dive watch, since his computer was on his BC vest stuck to the
submarine. He knew that he would have a long hang, so he just
waited it out while the men on board were completely oblivious as
to what had just taken place. When he figured his deco was finally
complete, Micko climbed on board the
Hummingbird
, totally
exhausted.

***

Tanya watched the death duel from the boat and
knew that her plan had worked. She’d never had any intention of
letting that slob Disco ever touch her. His job was done, and now
she had to parlay this into her favor with the bosses. A diver
herself, she knew that if she turned the air off one of the hoses,
Disco and Nike would fight to the death over the other one. If she
had turned the air off both hoses, the two men would have
immediately surfaced; and although the odds were that they would
both have died agonizing deaths from air embolisms from ascending
too fast or from a bad case of the bends, she couldn’t take the
chance. If one of the men had climbed back onto the boat, he
probably would have killed her on the spot before dying.

Tanya untied the
Happy Monkey
from the
mooring line, reeled in the phony fishing lines, and started up the
huge engines. She was headed back to Shark Alley Island, not
knowing that Micko was doing his deco hang.