The Steel Shark

Chapter 7

Vivian blew out her breath in a long exhalation, trying not to think about her lungs exploding, bubbles boiling through her blood, embolisms seeking out her brain, all the nightmare scenarios from the safety briefing. She had a lot of sympathy for her panicked scuba buddy right this minute. She was trying very hard not to have a bad moment. Because she wasn’t in a pool with a buddy and instructors and a world-class hospital minutes away.

She was alone, and if she messed this up, she would die. In the water.

Hoping he’d left nothing out, she followed the instructions from Tesla’s safety briefing to the letter and forced herself to keep exhaling. She wasn’t going to run out of air and suffocate in her suit. Plenty of air up there. The suit bore her upward.

A sheet of silver as bright as a Mylar balloon shone above her upturned face, and her heart leaped. The surface. The silver wasn’t flat like a table. Instead, it rose and fell like a sheet flapping on a clothesline. Waves.

She burst through the silver sheet into the sunlit world. With her uninjured hand, she fumbled to unzip her hood. Once it was down, she took a long breath of salty sea air. It tasted better than any air she’d ever breathed. She took another breath.

A wave knocked her in the face, and she coughed. The air might be friendly, but the sea sure as hell wasn’t.

She bobbed around like a cork, the air inside the suit keeping her afloat. So long as she didn’t inhale a wave, she’d be fine. Tesla had told her the suit had an emergency beacon that would activate when exposed to salt water. Even now, hers was calling rescuers. She hoped.

Tesla. And Edison. She hadn’t expected them to surface with her. They didn’t have suits, and she wasn’t sure what would happen to a dog during a rapid ascent. But they’d be along any second. Tesla must have had a plan to get to the surface on his own, or he wouldn’t have sent her up. Right?

A minute passed, then another. She learned to anticipate the waves, to hold her breath, and dive through. Her mouth tasted of salt, and blood ran down her cheek from the cut on her head. On land, she wouldn’t have cared about it. But here she wondered if she was sending out messages to every shark in the sea: Come get your wounded prey! Shop here for a tasty and vulnerable treat!

Hoping to see bubbles from a scuba diver, she scanned the sea. Nothing. Maybe Tesla was a slow swimmer. Maybe he was doing a safety stop. Maybe he wasn’t coming. Or maybe he was stuck down there.

She searched for a rescue ship. No one had heard her transponder’s pleas for help. Did the damn thing work? She didn’t even know where it was supposed to be on her suit. For all she knew, it might not even be there, and it wasn’t calling in the cavalry.

First things first. She had to find Tesla. Cradling her wounded arm, she paddled in a wide circle, searching for bubbles. If he didn’t surface soon, she might drift away. Already, she wasn’t sure where she’d first come up. She kept circling.

A plastic bubble popped to the surface. Inside, a dog barked soundlessly.

“Edison!” She swam toward him.

As soon as he saw her, he dove back underwater. He’d lead her straight to Tesla, if she could keep up. She angled her body downward and tried to dive. Her emergency suit bobbed to the surface. It wasn’t designed for this. But if she took it off, she might drown. She was a lousy swimmer with two arms, let alone one. She was a land-based bodyguard, not a lifeguard.

Edison surfaced again. He looked at her sternly. He knew her duty.

She would have to take off the suit. One-handed, she struggled with her zipper, but her cold fingers slipped off the tiny metal tab. Edison paddled over and bumped the handle on the back of his vest against her uninjured hand. Automatically, she grabbed it.

The second her fingers closed around the handle, the dog dove. She took a deep breath before he dragged her underwater. Once her legs were under, she kicked as hard as she could to help the poor dog. Her broken arm had gone mostly numb before, but it began to throb.

The dog towed her to where Tesla hung about twenty feet down, face pointed toward the dark water below. The silver sheet of light she’d so longed to reach had probably triggered a panic attack.

When she reached him, she let go of the dog and latched on to Tesla’s shoulder. His head shot up, and his arms wind-milled just like Guy’s had. She nearly lost her grip before he recognized her. His eyes were so wide they seemed to fill his snorkel mask, like an anime character. He was terrified, but he calmed down once he recognized her. One up on Guy.

Her suit lifted them both, and he stiffened. Movements frantic, he peeled her hand off his shoulder.

She fought to stay level with him in her buoyant suit. Her lungs burned. She held up one finger, hoping he’d guess that meant she’d be back soon. She needed air.

She headed back to the surface and took deep breaths until Edison arrived to pull her back down. This time, she knew how far to go, and she was in better shape when she reached Tesla.

He seemed calmer, too, and he took her good arm to stabilize her. She slid out of his grasp and moved his hand to her belt. They hung face-to-face in the water, slowly ascending. She had only a few seconds before he started to panic. Edison spotted the problem and pushed the handle on his vest into Tesla’s hand, then tried to pull them down. It slowed their upward movement and bought her time. Good dog.

Tesla released his hold on her belt long enough to hand her his spare regulator. She shoved it in her mouth, exhaled, and drew in a long breath. Already putting her buddy-breathing training to good use. Together, they could do this.

She drew her good arm out of her sleeve so it rested against her side. Then she stuck her hand in her warm armpit. That ought to get feeling back in her fingers. If she fumbled this, she wouldn’t get a second chance.

Tesla’s eyes were growing wider, and bubbles shot out of his regulator way too often. He was hyperventilating, barely holding it together. She was impressed he’d lasted so long so close to the light and the outside world. All things considered, he was actually pretty damn strong.

She reached into her pocket and took out the syringe. She’d been carrying the fast-acting sedative for months in case of an emergency in which Tesla needed to be taken outside whether he wanted it or not. This definitely counted.

In one quick movement, she stuck him in the shoulder, needle going right through his neoprene wetsuit and into his muscle. She pressed the plunger. He jerked back, and the syringe tumbled into the depths. Another piece of unappetizing garbage in the Atlantic.

His eyes went glassy. Wincing, she used the elbow of her broken arm to hold his regulator against his face. If it fell out, he’d drown. She started kicking toward the surface.

Tesla let go of her belt.

Edison sensed he was needed. The dog swam up past her to look at his master’s face. He bonked Tesla’s head with his bubble, and Tesla’s eyes moved to the dog’s. He smiled around his regulator and patted the dog’s back.

Without Edison pulling them down, they were heading up. She hoped the drug would keep Tesla calm. If he thrashed around, she couldn’t do much with one arm. On land, she’d choke him out, but the water put her at a disadvantage.

Tesla’s eyes rolled back, and she pressed the regulator hard against his mouth. She gritted her teeth against the pain in her arm. Nothing to do but wait out the ascent.

By the time they broke the surface, Tesla was completely out. She inflated his buoyancy compensator, and he tipped over to float on his back. The suit was clearly intended to keep unconscious wearers alive, a good thing as she couldn’t have held him up long with one arm. Edison paddled next to his master, nudging his limp form. Clearly, the dog didn’t like to see his master out cold. She didn’t blame him. It creeped her out, too.

But things were looking up. They were above the water breathing real air. She could hold on to Tesla and keep them together. And nobody had drowned. Except for that guy in the other sub. Unless he got crushed to death.

She tried not to think about that. She focused on the next minute, and the one after that. Eventually, those minutes would stack up, and the situation would change. Just stay alive for one more minute. That’s how she powered through stressful situations.

Edison huddled between her and Tesla. The dog didn’t have a wetsuit, and he’d started to shiver.

“Good boy,” she said, and realized he probably couldn’t hear her through his scuba bubble. She wanted to reach over and pet him, but couldn’t let go of Tesla. Her hand was a frozen claw, and she was afraid if she pried her fingers loose she’d never get them wrapped around the suit, and Tesla would drift away.

It had been several minutes since she’d first surfaced, although she refused to let herself count how many. Their transponders must be sending out signals like crazy, so each minute was bringing them closer to rescue. They weren’t going to die here.

Edison looked over at her, doggie eyebrows bent with worry.

“I hear you,” she said. “But we’re going to be fine.”

Edison probably couldn’t hear her inside his bubble, but he watched her lips. Maybe he could read lips. It wouldn’t surprise her. That dog could do just about anything.

“Good boy,” she said clearly and loudly. “You did a great job!”

The dog had done his best. She’d done her best. So had Tesla. Now they had to hope someone else was doing their best to find them. She hadn’t been so helpless in a long time, and she hated it.

Together, they drifted, an island of three in the vast blue sea.

Cold and exhaustion got to Vivian, and she dozed off. A sound jerked her out of her exhausted trance. Familiar, but she couldn’t place it. A thumping. Then she knew, and she practically wept with relief.

She tugged Tesla around to face the source: a blue and white helicopter with NYPD written on the tail — New York City Police Department’s Harbor Patrol.

She uncurled her clawlike fingers from Tesla’s suit and waved her good arm back and forth like a metronome. Their bright red suits and Edison’s yellow body were visible targets against the green water. Surely they’d be easy to spot. She waved again.

The chopper came in fast and low, and she waved. Edison made barking motions, but no sound came through his bubble.

The helicopter came right for them. The rotors kicked up water. Salty droplets stung her face, but she didn’t care. The cavalry had arrived.

A ladder dropped from the helicopter’s side and splashed into the water a few yards away. She pointed to Tesla and shook her head. He wasn’t going to be climbing that ladder, and she couldn’t drag him up. Awkwardly, she started to tow him toward the ladder, and the dog followed, tugging on Tesla’s suit. This was going to take a while.

Someone understood the problem, because a floating basket stretcher and a diver landed in the water less than a minute later. The diver swam over so quickly he looked like a movie on fast forward. He wore a full wetsuit, but a curl of black hair had escaped the hood and was plastered to his forehead.

He grabbed hold of the back of Tesla’s BCD.

“There’s another sub,” she yelled. “One guy still on the bottom.”

The man tapped his ear. He couldn’t hear her over the sound of the helicopter.

She’d have to wait until she was on board. The other guy was probably long dead at this point anyway.

The diver heaved Tesla into the basket and started clipping him in. He darted around easily. She held on to the basket’s metal side with one arm and wished for dry land. Every so often, a wave slapped her in the face to remind her exactly why she hated the ocean.

Edison struggled to climb in with his master. She put a hand on the dog’s back and looked to the diver to make sure Edison could get into the basket right now, or if he needed to wait for the next one. She wasn’t getting out until the dog was safe. No man or dog left behind, that was her new motto.

The diver scooped up Edison and dumped him on Tesla’s chest. Edison nudged Tesla’s shoulder with his bubble head. She’d have to get that bubble off him once they got aboard. He was a patient dog, but it had to be driving him nuts.

The diver clipped Edison into the basket. Then he moved her back and gestured to someone in the helicopter. They started lifting Tesla and his dog. Her job was done.

Now her arm throbbed in earnest. It had been waiting for the adrenaline to clear. She shivered. Water had leaked into her suit when she’d been bringing Tesla up, and she was drenched. Her teeth chattered.

She paddled one-handed back toward the ladder. The diver drew up even with her and pointed at her arm.

“Broken,” she yelled.

He grabbed hold of her collar. Ordinarily, she’d never let herself be towed around like a toddler in a pool, but she hurt too much and was too cold to stand on pride.

Once they got to the ladder, she dragged herself onto the lowest rung. She hung there like a drowned rat until they dropped the basket again. With the diver’s help, she flopped in. She lay flat on her back and felt the rotor wash pummel her face while the diver clipped her in. Every beat meant she wasn’t alone, and soon she was going to be on dry land.

Her basket dangled from a silver cable that moved steadily upward, swinging from side to side as the helicopter fought the wind. She focused on the pontoon skids that must let the machine land on water. Just over those pontoons was an open door. It would be a minute, and then another minute and another after, but she didn’t sweat it. Tesla was safe. Edison was safe. She was safe.

Now, she was starting to get angry. Someone had smashed into them, nearly killed them, killed the guy in the other sub, and then done nothing to help. The giant sub must have had an exit, if Tesla’s sub did. Probably full of fit young sailors and medics. But not one of them had come out to try to undo the damage they’d caused. They couldn’t even be bothered to back off Tesla’s sub so she could get out. If he hadn’t been there with his knife, she’d be dead.

Hands guided the basket into the helicopter’s belly, and the basket came to rest on a metal floor. Tesla was flat on a stretcher with Edison strapped in next to him. A redheaded man started unfastening the clips that held her in. A familiar dark head appeared, and the diver hauled himself up next to her.

As soon as he was inside, the sound of the rotors changed, and they rose and headed for shore. She sat. Her arm reminded her it was broken, and she needed to be more careful with it. Another thing the driver of that giant sub had to answer for.

She leaned forward and ripped off Edison’s helmet one-handed, so the dog could breathe regular air. He licked her hand, clearly to say thank you, then went back to cuddling up to his master. She wished she had a big warm dog. She wouldn’t even mind the wet-dog smell.

“There are subs down there,” she yelled. “Three. A big one and two little ones.”

“We’ll have ships here soon to investigate, ma’am.” The diver helped her out of the basket and into a seat. Her knees had gone rubbery, and she shook too much to fasten her own seat belt.

The diver fastened straps across her shoulders, and the medic with bristly red hair gently touched her injured arm.

She gasped. “Broken.”

Red took a splint out of a white box.

“The guy down there won’t last long,” she yelled. “If he’s even still alive.”

“I understand that, ma’am.” The diver finished buckling her in. “Help is on its way.”

“What happened to your friend?” The medic slipped the splint over her forearm and pointed at Tesla.

“He might have hit his head,” she said. He might have, and she couldn’t tell them he was drugged to the gills.

“Is he under the influence of any medication?” he asked.

She closed her eyes and leaned back. Her teeth chattered so hard she decided she didn’t have to answer.