Amber

Chapter 6

Clouds of silt rained down on Maddock and Bones in the room. They heard heavy noises around them, like the metal of the ship shifting. Those were drowned out by Willis’ voice going uncharacteristically high-pitched. “Professor… Prof, talk to me!”

Maddock signaled for Bones to follow him and swam out of the room into the hallway, which now had a rupture in the ceiling where hazy light filtered through from above. They kicked fast back in the direction they had come, toward the room Willis and Professor now occupied.

En route, Maddock asked Willis what was happening a couple of times but received only terse replies of, “Hold on,” or “Working on it!” Bones and Maddock rushed more quickly than they knew was safe to reach the room as rapidly as possible. They saw a dive light stabbing the darkness in seemingly random directions and pulled themselves by the door frame into the space.

Willis was lying on the floor of the room in a far corner, reaching his hands into a low crevice of a space while his light bounced around randomly on a tether attached to his wrist. A second set of scuba gear — not the one Willis wore on his back — lay on the floor at the edge of the opening.

“Talk to me, Willis!” Maddock and Bones swam across the mostly bare room to where Willis lay.

“Prof tried but couldn’t fit through here with is tank on, so he took off his tank to fit back there to where he said it opens up into a larger space. Took a big breath and—“

“How long has he been in there?” Maddock slid alongside Willis and directed his light beam into the crevice. Bones went to Willis’ other side and did the same.

Willis eyeballed his dive watch. “Forty-five seconds.”

“I don’t see him back there.” Bones swept his light toward the back of the crevice, where it sloped up toward some natural light.

“I’m going in. Willis: stay here. Bones: swim around to the other side and see if you can access the space from where that light comes in.”

“Dane, are you sure… ” Willis began, but Maddock had already shrugged off his tank. He ripped off his mask and shimmied beneath the overhanging metal, as Professor had done before him. Carrying his dive light in one hand, he kicked into the narrow area, now without a mask on, since the full face masks with integrated comm were connected directly to the scuba tank. The only way to take off the tank was to take off the mask, too. In light of this fact, Maddock knew that Willis must have seen something that he deemed very promising in order to go through all of that potentially dangerous trouble.

Yet when the three of them had looked into the area with their lights, nothing obvious was there. But Professor had surely seen something, but now he wasn’t even in here anymore… Maddock interrupted his own thoughts as he reached what he had thought was the rear of the cramped confines. Because light streamed in from above and a wall was only a couple of feet in front of him, he had thought that the chamber ended here. But even with his blurry vision, he could see this was not the case.

He could even feel the floor drop out from under him as he reached the far wall, the skin on his face and neck reacting to the sudden decrease in temperature. Looking down, he saw a precipitous slope drop away until it passed beneath the wall of the room. Tilting his head upward to see the source of the light, he could tell that two crumpled pieces of metal met, leaving an irregular sliver through which light passed. He wasn’t sure if it was wide enough for a human to pass through. He looked around the room one more time to be sure he wasn’t missing Professor, and when he didn’t see him Maddock dove down into the new passage, if that’s what it was. For all he knew it could dead-end a few feet down. Which could be a good thing.

In that case, Professor should be here. If he’s not… Maddock shoved the grim thought from his mind and pushed his way deeper, keeping his light out in front of him so that he would hit that instead of his head if something came up suddenly. It occurred to him as he swam down that the explosion they’d heard could have opened up this gap in the flooring — that maybe Professor hadn’t meant to come down here but had the floor drop out from beneath him.

The first pang of oxygen starvation hit Maddock’s lungs. He had to find Professor and get back to their tanks, fast. And in the back of his mind, even through the predicament he now found himself in, he couldn’t help but wonder: what had caused that blast? It must be the Russians, but how? Depth charges? Mines? Semtex? Did they not care what damage they did to the wreck? Had they already recovered something of value from it relating to the Amber Room and so now had no qualms about destroying it? And did they know there were uninvited divers on the wreck, or did they just happen to be doing underwater demolitions at this very moment? Maddock doubted the latter as he swept his beam to his right.

Motion. Light. Far corner.

Maddock changed course abruptly, making a beeline for what could only be Professor. He opened his eyes even wider against the saltwater as he neared the hectic, wavy illumination. He passed over some inert objects… forms… on the bottom of the basement-like space. Maddock couldn’t be positive with his blurred vision but they looked at lot like skeletons. He hurried past without touching them. A couple of more scissor kicks and Maddock clamped a hand on the arm waving the light, temporarily blinded when it pointed right at him. He couldn’t see Professor’s face in any detail without a mask, but he knew it was him from the way he grunted, “Help.”

Maddock knew his associate must be trapped somehow or he would have been long gone back to his tank. He got right to work searching for whatever it was that was holding Professor back. His upper body was visibly free and he was able to shine the light around, so Maddock concentrated on his legs. This task was made more difficult by not being able to see clearly, but by running a hand down Professor’s drysuited leg until he encountered metal before reaching the foot, he knew he had found the problem.

With mere seconds left to solve it.

The explosion had somehow jarred two pieces metal around both of Professor’s legs at the ankles, trapping him in place. Maddock removed his dive knife from the sheath on his calf and used it like a pry bar to separate the metal sheets — flooring and wall — that pinned the SEAL’s legs. He felt the metal give way but then the knife slipped and he heard Professor groan in pain. He was trying not to move but lack of oxygen was making him nervous and cagey; he fidgeted while Maddock tried again with the knife.

He pushed the two sheets of metal apart a little more and then wrenched his colleague’s leg free, slicing through the drysuit and eliciting a bubbly scream as the thin skin covering the ankle was split open. Professor had just expelled some of what little oxygen remained in his lungs. Maddock knew he had to work extra fast now. His own lungs were starting to burn, too, and even once Professor was out, they still faced a long swim through the wreck back to the scuba tanks.

Maddock gripped Professor’s remaining trapped ankle with two hands and slid it across the opening he had created with the pry bar, which became wider toward the right. It was faster than prying again, but the speed came at a price as Professor’s other ankle was shredded in similar fashion to the first. His shriek was less this time, though, having learned not to expel any more precious air.

Maddock bear-hugged Professor and pushed off the bottom. The two SEALs ascended out of the narrow, deep space they were in, toward the floor of the crevice that led back to the tanks. But as they rose, another explosion rocked the wreck. Suddenly the passage that led back to Bones, Willis and the tanks was sealed shut in front of them. Where to turn?

Maddock made the split second decision to shoot for the light that streamed in from above. He still had no idea if the opening up there would be wide enough for them to fit through. It could be just an inches-wide seam letting in the sunlight for all he knew. But he had unfortunately gotten into one of those situations where he had run out of options. Swim for that light, hope he could get through to escape the wreck….and then what? He couldn’t let himself think any further ahead than that. To do so would be to invite panic in to sit down and hang out. One step at a time. Stay focused.

Professor’s movements were becoming more and more frenzied, verging on lack of control, but still he swam upward. Maddock noticed he was only using one arm to stroke, and figured his other must have been injured while attempt to free himself. As they ascended within the confines of the wreck, Maddock could tell they were almost to the top of the structure.

His fear ballooned as they made the last few feet to the opening — would it be wide enough? Because if not… he was pretty sure the U.S. Navy would be out two SEALs.

Maddock reached out for the jagged line of light and hooked his right hand over the lip and pulled himself up. Ironically he was able to fit through only because he wasn’t wearing a tank. He shimmied through, disregarding the scraping of rusted metal on his drysuit, gazing longingly at the hazy white light above. But he had to make sure Professor was still on track. He looked back down and was relieved to see his friend’s blurry arm protruding out of the rip in the wreck.

C’mon Professor!

Maddock reached down and gripped his fellow SEAL’s arm and began pulling him up, hoping that the contact would spur him to action, give him hope, remind him that he wasn’t the only one going through this ordeal. Maddock pulled harder and Professor slipped through the uneven seam, his head upturned toward the light.

Maddock turned his attention to their next course of action. His lungs burned badly and he estimated that nearly two minutes had elapsed since he’d last taken a breath, probably three for Professor. The surface seemed impossibly far away, 110 feet above. They would risk the bends ascending directly to it, also, although when you needed to breathe that was the least of your worries. And then a bright, stabbing beam of light caught Maddock’s attention.

He tapped Professor’s shoulder and pointed off to the left, where one of the SDV’s swooped in toward them. Maddock rejoiced at the sight of the vehicle, for it represented real hope. Not because the pilot might transport them to the surface faster, because even that might not be quick enough, but because of what the craft carried on board: air. In the form of two scuba cylinders in compartments used for buoyancy control. The SDV carried an air bladder on each side that could be inflated with compressed air from the tanks in the event that the motor died and the craft needed to ascend. As Maddock yanked on Professor’s arm and kicked toward the SDV, he had a plan. Admittedly, not a good one, but it was all they had.

The tanks. They held breathable air, but there was one major problem. Maddock thought about it as he and Professor neared the oncoming SDV, lungs searing, strange spots forming at the corners of his vision. He knew where to locate the scuba tanks in the SDV, could already visualize opening the door to the compartment that housed them, as he had done during SEAL training more times than he cared to remember. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that the tanks were connected to a special valve designed for the vehicle buoyancy system, not to a scuba breathing regulator with a mouthpiece. They would have to be disconnected from that system and then…

Maddock’s thoughts were obliterated by the SDV’s headlight swinging around in his direction and the pilot sounding some kind of horn-like sound device. He could only imagine the pilot’s — he couldn’t see whether it was Yu or Jiminez — horror at seeing the two divers swimming around a hundred feet down without an air supply. On par with seeing something out of a dream, surreal, nightmarish.

Then his hands were clawing at the side of the vehicle, seeking the handholds he knew were there but could not see. He found purchase with first a hand, then a foot, and pulled himself up. He glanced back just once to make certain Professor was still there — he was — and then bent to the task of accessing a scuba tank.

He had no trouble locating the hatch for the buoyancy control compartment. Unlatched it and flipped it open. Felt by rote for the aluminum cylinder he knew would be inside. Found it! He wanted the air it contained so badly that it hurt, but he still had work to do. His hands raced along the tank up to the neck until they clamped onto the valve assembly. With practiced ease now edged with panic, Maddock unscrewed the yoke from the tank valve. He pulled the scuba cylinder free and cracked the valve, releasing air into the water with a bubbly hiss. He knew that the familiar sound would get the point across to Professor as to what they had to do. This was as good as it was going to get; breathing directly from a tank valve. It was possible to do if the amount of flow was not too little nor too high.

Maddock took one pull off the tank and handed it off to the desperate Professor, who hugged it with one hand as he drank in the air. Maddock, meanwhile, lungs still craving so much air despite the single breath, hopped over to the other side of the SDV and opened the compartment there, repeating the process. He felt the SDV begin moving as he disconnected the tank. A few seconds later and he, too, was breathing from his own cylinder. It felt great but he knew their fate was still far from certain. A hundred feet down, no regulator, no mask, no way to communicate about how to structure their decompression stops.

All they could do was find a way to hold on to the tanks while gripping the SDV as the pilot ascended. Maddock knew the pilot would want to get them to the surface as quickly as possible, but the bends was a factor. Maddock had to somehow communicate with him in order to ask him to level off at twenty feet or so for a few minutes to decompress and avoid the dreaded pressure sickness.

Maddock felt around in the buoyancy compartment. He recalled his training days with the vehicles and how some of the instructors would place small spare gear items inside such as an extra pair of fins, or a knife… a mask! The SEAL’s hands instantly recognized the feel of soft rubber and smooth glass. He snatched the object up and knelt on the tank while he slipped the mask over his head. Then he cleared the mask of water, exhaling through his nose until the seawater was forced out of the mask and he could see again. Excellent! Huge advantage. Maddock felt his panic ebb a couple of notches as he picked up his tank and took a couple of deep pulls of air. Maybe there was another mask on Professor’s side?

Maddock got to an upright kneeling position on the side-runner, preparing to hop over to Professor’s side and check for him, when he happened to glance up at the pilot. Who was it, anyway, Yu or Jiminez? The man was hunched over the controls, full scuba gear on including a hood. But wait a minute… Maddock studied the pilot’s gear more carefully. Yu and Jiminez did both wear hoods, but they were all black. This hood had a dark colored stripe — perhaps red, which couldn’t be seen clearly at this depth due to the filtering of shorter wavelengths — and…

Suddenly the pilot turned around to look back at his passengers and Maddock got a look at his face through the mask. First of all it wasn’t the same type of mask, the shape was different. Same type of thing, functionality wise, but a different model. And the face itself — Maddock looked very carefully to be sure. After all, he had known Yu and Jiminez for mere hours. But no. This man was definitely neither of the two U.S. Navy SDV pilots!

Maddock turned away quickly, not wanting the pilot to see the alarm that must be registering on his face, or that he was now wearing a mask. He decided to continue with his original course of action and moved slowly but purposefully to Professor’s side of the SDV. His colleague still hunched on the seat without a facemask, one arm both wrapped around the scuba tank and gripping the edge of the wet sub’s rail. Maddock recalled how he’d been using only one arm for quite some time now and glanced at his other arm to check for injuries.

That’s when he saw it. Professor was gripping a golden object with his left hand, clutching it against his stomach, taking great care not to drop it.