Newton’s Fire

II

Croke was checking the latest bulletins from Jerusalem when he heard the commotion outside. He ignored it at first, assuming it would sort itself out. But then came the shrieks. He opened his door to see Walters staggering backwards out of the cargo hold, his whole upper body ablaze. He fell onto his back and lay there screaming, his face charred and flames flickering from his mouth as if from some vanquished dragon as he died. Croke whirled on Pete and Kieran, washing their arms and faces in the galley sink. ‘What the hell happened?’ he demanded.

‘Acid,’ said Pete succinctly, turning to show Croke his blotched and blistered face, the frightening red of his corneas.

The sight shocked Croke into silence. But not for long. ‘Get in there,’ he said. ‘Finish them.’

‘You’re kidding, right?’ snarled Kieran. ‘They’ve got acid, solvent and a taser.’

‘We can cover up your exposed skin.’

‘We can cover up your exposed skin.’

‘That wasn’t a request,’ said Croke. ‘That was an order.’

‘Stuff it up your arse.’

‘Jesus!’ said Manfredo, arriving with Vig at that moment. ‘What happened?

‘They’re in there,’ said Croke, nodding at the door. ‘Go get them.’

‘No need,’ said Vig. ‘Easier just to lock them in, then depressurize. We’ll starve them of air in no time.’

Croke frowned. ‘We can do that from out here?’

Vig nodded. ‘Sure. It’s all controlled from the cockpit.’

‘What about breathing masks? Won’t they drop down?’

‘We stripped them out last year,’ said Vig. ‘It was too much grief having them deploy every time we depressurized. Anyone who wants air back there has to take it in themselves.’

‘And we have enough time before we land?’

Vig shrugged. ‘You don’t want to hurry something like this, not at thirty thousand. It risks all kinds of shit. But we can still make it nasty back there pretty damn quick. Ten minutes and they’ll be struggling. Fifteen and they’ll be unconscious. Twenty and they’ll be dead. Then we close the vents, pump some air back in, open the door and dump them during our approach. ’ He gave Walters a prod with his foot. ‘But we’ll need to start now.’

Croke nodded. ‘Then get busy,’ he said.