White Death (NUMA Files 4)

"I don't see any garages nearby, and in any case, I forgot my credit card."

"As my father used to say, 'All it takes to move a stubborn burro is a stick of dynamite.5 " Zavala said.

Around the halls ofNUMA, Austin had a well-deserved reputa- tion for having an unflappable stubbornness in the face of adversity. Most men wisely cut and run in the face of sure disaster; Austin faced it with equanimity. The fact that he was still alive and breathing showed that he possessed a remarkable combination of resourceful- ness and luck. Those who'd had to tough it out with him found his serendipity frightening. Austin always shrugged off their complaints. But now, Joe was giving him a taste of his own medicine. Austin compressed his lips in a tight smile, laced his fingers behind his head and sat back in his seat.

"You wouldn't be so relaxed if you didn't have a plan," Austin said.

Zavala gave his partner an exaggerated wink and removed the two-pronged key that had been hanging from a chain around his neck. He flipped open a small metal cap in the center of the console and inserted the key. "When I turn this key and flick the little switch next to it, the third redundant system comes into play. Explosive charges will blow off all the ballast tanks, and up we go. Smart, eh?" "Not if the Thor is in the way when we come flying out of the

water. We'd sink the ship and us."

"If it makes you feel any better, press that button. It sends up a warning buoy to the surface. Flares, whistles. The whole nine yards."

Austin punched the button. There was a swoosh as the buoy was ejected from the sub. He advised their passengers to hold tight.

Zavala jerked his thumb skyward, a boyish grin on his face.

"Going up" He hit the switch and they braced themselves. The only sound was Zavala swearing under his breath in Spanish. "The switch didn't work," he said with a sheepish grin.

"Let's see if I can summarize this. We're three hundred feet down, with overloaded capacity, the cabin full of half-dead sailors, and the panic button doesn't work."

"You have a knack for brevity, Kurt."

"Thanks. I'll expand further. We've got two front tanks full of water, two rear ones empty, and that spells neutral buoyancy. Any way of lightening the Lamprey?"

"I can jettison the connector tube. We'll get to the surface, but it won't be pretty."

"Doesn't seem we have much of an alternative. I'll tell our pas- sengers to hold on."

Austin made his announcement, buckled himself into his seat and gave the signal. Zavala crossed his fingers and blew off the rescue tube. It had been made detachable as a precaution, in case the sub- mersible had to extricate itself from a rescue in a hurry. There was a muffled explosion, and the submersible lurched. The Sea Lamprey rose a foot, then a yard, then several yards. Their progress was ex- cruciatingly slow at first, but the craft gained more speed the higher it went. Before long, it was speeding to the surface.

The Sea Lamprey exploded from the sea stern-first and splashed down in a fountain of white water. The vehicle rolled violently, toss- ing those inside around like dice in a shaker. Alerted by the warning buoy's sound-and-light show, small boats dashed in and their crews attached pontoons that stabilized the craft in a more or less horizon- tal position.

The Thor got a line on the vehicle and hauled the Sea Lamprey close to where a crane could lift it to the deck. Medical personnel swarmed over the submersible the second the hatch was popped, and the sur- vivors were extracted one by one, loaded onto stretchers and hustled onto waiting MediVac helicopters that transferred them to the land hospital. By the time Austin and Zavala climbed from the sub- mersible, the deck was practically deserted, except for a handful of crew who came over and congratulated them, then quickly left.

Zavala looked around the near-empty deck. "No brass band?"

"Heroism is its own reward," Austin said pontifically. "But I wouldn't turn down a shot oftequila if someone offered it to me."

"What a coincidence. I just happen to have a bottle of blue agave tucked away in my duffel bag. Primo stuff."

"We may have to delay our celebration. Mr. Becker is coming our way."

The Danish bureaucrat was striding across the deck, his face beaming with unmistakable happiness. He pumped their hands, pounded the NUMA men on the back and showered them with ef- fusive praise.

"Gentlemen, I thank you," he said brea

thlessly. "Denmark thanks you. The world thanks you!"

"Our pleasure," Austin said. "Thanks for the opportunity to test the Sea Lamprey under actual conditions. The Russian chopper is at the NATO base with the transport planes. We'll give them a call, and we can be out of here in a few hours."

Becker's face reassumed its usual mask of businesslike dourness. "Mr. Zavala is free to go, but I'm afraid you might have to delay your trip. A special investigative court that was formed to look into the cruiser incident is convening a hearing in Torshavn tomorrow. They would like you to testify."

"Don't see how I can help. I didn't see the actual sinking."

"Yes, but you dove on the Eri/yson twice. You can describe the damage in detail. It will help make our case." Seeing the doubt in Austin's face, he said, "I'm afraid we'll have to insist that you be our guest in the Islands until the hearing is terminated. Cheer up. The U.S. embassy has been informed of our request and will transmit it to NUMA. I've already arranged lodging for you. We'll be staying in the same hotel, in fact. The Islands are beautiful, and you'll only be delayed a day or two before you can rejoin your ship."

"It's no problem for me, Kurt," Zavala said. "I can get the Lam- prey back to the Beebe and wrap up the tests."