Deep Fathom

Charlie was instantly there, stepping between the attacker and his captain. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, mon?”

Jack sat up. “Stay out of it, Charlie.” He pushed himself to his feet, tasted blood on his tongue. The tall Jamaican moved back a half step, ready to defend his friend if necessary.

David Spangler’s thin lips sneered at Jack. “That was for Jen!” he spat.

Jack rubbed his jaw. He had no answer for that. In fact, he couldn’t blame David for his reaction. “What are you doing here?” he simply asked, leaning back against a chair.

“I’ve been assigned to the investigation by the new President.”

“What’s the CIA have to do with this?”

David’s right eye twitched.

“Yeah, I heard about your transfer,” Jack said, tired. “It seems you’ve moved up in the world.”

“And you should have stayed gone from it,” David said. He turned and hauled the second float bag into the dinghy.

“It wasn’t my idea to come here.”

“Let me guess,” David said harshly. “Admiral Houston called you in.”

Jack shrugged.

David dumped the second black box into the boat, none too gently. “Houston always had a hard-on for you, Kirkland.”

Jack’s voice grew gruff. “He was a friend of Jennifer’s, too.”

“Yeah, and look what it got her.”

Jack nudged Charlie toward the wheel. “Get us out of here.” Jack stared David down. In the other man’s blue eyes, Jack saw all the blame he felt in his own heart. “I’m sorry about Jennifer—” he started.

“Fuck your apology,” David spat back. “I have my job, you have yours. Just stay out of my way.”

Jack knew no words would ever settle this old score. David would never forgive him for his sister’s death. The chasm between them was unbridgeable. Giving up, Jack crossed to the stern to make sure the mooring lines remained clear of the motor. As he moved past the former SEAL, the man leaned close to him, his breath hot on Jack’s face.

David’s eyes shone with rancor and malice. It was like looking into the eyes of a rabid animal. He whispered so his words were heard only by Jack: “This isn’t over, Kirkland.”

Off the coast of Yonaguni Island, Okinawa Prefecture

“Get back!” Karen pulled Miyuki to her knees. Flames filled the narrow crawlway and spread rapidly along the trail of kerosene. On hands and knees the two fled behind the altar.

At the crawlway, flames swept into their hiding place, accompanied by a blast of searing heat and stinging smoke. Miyuki cupped her arm across her mouth, her eyes tearing.

Karen joined her, suppressing a choking cough, afraid to alert the looters outside. What were they to do? In the brightness of the flames, Karen’s watery eyes were drawn to the sharp glint from the snake sculpture wrapped around the altar. Its twin eyes glowed at her, reflecting the fire. Rubies.

“Karen…?” Miyuki reached out a hand to her.

Karen took it, and the women clung to one another. The wall of flames blocked escape, and the air grew smokier with each breath.

“I’m sorry,” Karen mumbled.

“Could there be another way out?” Miyuki asked. “A secret passage.”

Karen bit her lower lip, straining to think past her panic. “I don’t know. If there was, it would probably be near the altar.” Her eyes were again drawn to the altar’s snake carving. Something had been bothering her about it, nagging for her attention. Her gaze caught again on the snake’s ruby eyes. With her free hand, Karen touched the stone carving. Then she saw it, reflected in the firelight—a defect. One of the ruby eyes shone much brighter than the other. It was almost as if a hollow space lay behind it. Using a finger, she pressed against the faceted eye.

“What are you doing?” Miyuki asked.

The jewel pushed back into the snake’s skull, she heard a sharp click, then felt the snake’s head loosen in her grip. “It’s a lock release!” She could now swing the figure’s head back and forth. But nothing happened. What was its purpose?

The smoke, meanwhile, settled thicker in the chamber. Near the tunnel, the flames receded, the kerosene almost spent. Karen rubbed her sore eyes. Outside, she heard the attackers stir. Since their initial volley had failed to smoke them out, what might they do next?

The answer came quickly. A flaming glass bottle flew into the room and exploded against the front of the altar. A wave of fire burst up.

Karen fell backward, and Miyuki ducked farther behind the altar with a startled squawk.

“Goddamn them!” Karen swore. Ignoring the flames, she moved back to the altar. The secret release suggested the carving was more than decoration. Could there be a hidden passage? The heat burned Karen’s cheeks as she studied the stone snake. The serpent curled fully around the edge of the altar, its tail not far from its raised head. A thought occurred to her. The worm Ourbourus. The snake biting its own tail. A symbol of the infinite. Many cultures had similar mythic images. It was even in Mayan astrology.

Beyond the tunnel, Karen heard the men’s voices grow heated, argumentative, impatient. Then a bullet blasted into the chamber, ricocheting in a shower of stone shards. Ducking, Karen shoved the sculpture’s head all the way around until the tip of the serpent’s snout touched its own tail.

A loud grinding sounded under her toes, and Karen tensed.

“What’s happening?” Miyuki whispered, waving the smoke away.

Karen backed up as the altar stone lowered, dropping into the slab floor. “C’mon!” Karen took the penlight from a pocket and flashed a long beam into the inky darkness. The altar had fallen down about two meters.

She sensed that a larger chamber lay below, and leaned closer, trying to get a better look. A bullet whizzed past her left ear. She felt the heat of its passage as she dropped to her belly. “There’s no other way out of here,” she said, glancing at her friend.

Miyuki’s eyes were huge, but she gave a quick nod.

Karen popped the penlight in her mouth. “I’ll go first,” she mumbled. Swinging her legs into the pit, she probed with her toes. No footholds. With a glance below, she aimed for the top of the lowered altar and pushed off. Her feet hit hard, dropping her to one hand.

She flashed her light around the chamber. Pools of dank water dotted the floor. Pale ropes of algae hung from the roof. On the far side, a dark tunnel led away. She stood and shifted her light for a better look. No, not a tunnel—a stairway. It descended at a steep angle. Wherever it led, it was better than here.