The Steel Shark

Chapter 48

Vivian jerked upright from an uneasy sleep. Pain lanced from her shoulders down to her wrists. The hand not protected by her cast was numb. Hoping to get some blood flowing, she opened and closed both hands.

Nahal had curled up near the head of the bed. Her bright brown eyes studied Vivian. She’d probably been watching her sleep. Creepy.

“Please take off the handcuffs,” Vivian said.

“How do I know you won’t hurt me?”

“What would be the point?” Vivian tried to massage one hand with the other. Both hands were cold. “Would your boss care if I took you hostage?”

“She would not. She is a Dakkar, and that comes with a certain ruthlessness of spirit. She will spare no one, including me.” Slowly, Nahal sat and inched closer to Vivian. With one small hand, she unlocked the cuffs and set them on the desk.

Vivian stood and rolled her shoulders. Her back and neck popped. She bounced from foot to foot. She wanted to do a couple jumping jacks, but worried that might freak out Nahal. Best to keep it slow and steady. Instead, she stood still and massaged her numb hand. A little feeling returned to her wrist. It was going to hurt like hell soon. Good. Pain was just weakness leaving your body. Who had said that?

“Is your hand all right?” Nahal asked.

“I think so. It’s warming up a little, so that’s a good sign.” Vivian opened and closed her hands over and over.

“Aren’t you afraid to die in this tin can deep underwater? To never see your family again?” Vivian looked around the tiny room. “I sure don’t want to die here.”

“I already died when the plane crashed. We all did.”

“Not really.”

“I can never see my family again. Never go back to the places I consider home. The submarine is my home now, and I’m prepared to die again.” Nahal sat back. “If necessary, we will all drown together. So long as the men of the House of Dakkar drown with us, it would have been a sacrifice I’d gladly make.”

“They must have really pissed you off.” Vivian moved between Nahal and the desk, blocking her view. She scooped up the handcuffs and stuffed them in the top of her cast.

Nahal laughed. “If they hadn’t turned to creating a global war, I would have let them go their way and I would have gone mine. Perhaps I would have needled them from afar, damaging their banks or their investments to make them pay. But that would have been all.”

It didn’t seem like Nahal was so convinced, she kept saying would have been instead of would be. Something had changed for her, and Vivian hoped it would be enough to keep them both alive. “Will killing them make you feel better? Will it really change things?”

“It will not.” Nahal struggled to her feet. Like the other women on the ship, she wore blue coveralls, but hers were so big that the pant legs and sleeves were rolled up. The top was unzipped halfway to her waist, and a white bandage was visible on her chest.

“What happened there?” Vivian pointed to the bandage.

“I was shot when we took the sub.”

“How many other people were shot?”

“I don’t know.”

“How many people died?”

“Some. Soldiers, but still innocents, I concede.” Nahal touched her bandage. “As were those on the tanker.”

“How high does the body count need to go before it’s worse than what you’re trying to prevent?” Vivian said. “I’ve been trained to kill to stop war, too. Is the cost worth what you gain?”

“For this, today, yes.”

“Will sinking the prince’s ship stop his plans? If it does, will Laila stop? Will she let me go?”

Nahal turned away and closed her eyes. Vivian breathed through the pain in her hand, flexing it and shaking it. She even tossed in a few jumping jacks, her hands nearly touching the walls. Eventually, Nahal opened her eyes.

“Are you ready to sentence me to death?” Vivian felt guilty hammering on a wounded woman, but she was the only leverage around.

“I have been thinking about these things,” Nahal sat up again, “since long before you arrived to pester me.”

Vivian ignored the dig. “And what’s come out of all that thinking?”

“Before your arrival, I gathered what I need to prove to the world the prince is a traitor. That he planned to attack New York, sink his yacht, and blame Israel for the deaths in New York, the deaths of the royal family.”

That was a lot right there. “How are you going to get the information out there if the sub sinks with you inside?”

“I worry, of course I do. If I don’t explain, no one will know why the Roc sank. Or we sank. And if the prince or his conspirators survive, they may try again. It was a high risk, but I had no other choices. But now I do.”

“Am I part of these new choices?” Definitely a new risk, but Vivian would rather go down fighting hand to hand than sink to a watery tomb to die in the cold darkness without any air.

“Your Mr. Tesla has the means for me to distribute my information. He wouldn’t have ventured into the real world without still being connected to the virtual one. He can help me bring Prince Timgad’s villainy to light so no one can use his plan.”

“What about saving New York?”

“Laila will save it. If only to thwart the prince in his greatest ambition. She thinks she used me, that she uses all of us. But we use her as well. What she does not see, what she cannot see, is this plan didn’t begin with the prince and it won’t end even if she kills him. Others will carry it forward. You and I must stop them.”

“How?”

“Help me get to the surface. Tesla will find you.”

“Will he?” Vivian sure hoped so.

Nahal ignored her. “Once he does, he and I can work from his boat. There are places we can post this information, ways we can frame the story so that the world understands.”

“So, I’m supposed to help you, a woman I barely know?” Her new job sounded like her old job — risking her life to help some crazy nerd save the world. Except with a greater chance than usual of drowning. “Aren’t we too deep to get out of the sub now?”

Nahal shook her head. “Laila is a Dakkar. She will want to watch the battle. I bet my life the submarine will surface to periscope depth when the torpedoes are fired. About sixty feet. Not so deep at all.”

An Olympic-sized swimming pool was only one hundred and sixty-four feet long. Vivian could swim that far holding her breath. Not that she would. She’d be in some damn suit, breathing out and praying. It still seemed like a better option than staying here.

“OK,” she said.

“But we will only stay at such a shallow depth until the Roc is sunk. After that, the Siren will dive and hide.”

“If we don’t try to escape?”

“Perhaps Laila will let us all go our separate ways. Perhaps not. I think she will not let me go so easily, because I am useful to her. But you must know that she will kill you.”

Vivian had to agree with her. Laila would kill her as soon as she got a chance. All that was left was the logistics. “Who will activate the escape trunk to let us out? Can we do that ourselves?”

“We can do it ourselves once we’re inside.”

The sub dipped.

“Did you feel that?” Nahal asked. “A torpedo has been launched.”

Vivian’s hand burned. She opened and closed it and promised it a better future.

“There are coveralls in the locker.” Nahal pointed. “Put on a pair. It is not much of a disguise, but I think everyone will be too busy to look closely.”

Vivian opened the metal door and took out the overalls. Her hands felt like flippers. Nahal helped with the zipper and tied a head scarf over her head, presumably to hide her long hair.

“Ready?” Nahal asked.

Without answering, Vivian opened the door and stepped into the corridor.