Celtic Empire (Dirk Pitt 25)

“We need medical assistance,” Pitt said as he closed the gap.

“I said to stop where you are.” The man backed up a few steps to keep his distance. It was enough, Pitt gau

ged, to place him out of sight of the tank’s door.

“Can you call a doctor?” Pitt said. “My friend’s foot is broken.”

The technician glanced at Perkins’s mangled shoe. He reached for a radio at his hip and pressed the transmit button. “Assistance needed in the production room.”

He turned to Pitt. “Where’s the other man? Wasn’t there three of you?”

Pitt shook his head and stared at the ground. “Drowned.”

When he looked up, he had to force himself to focus on the man with the gun. It wasn’t easy, as he saw another man moving behind the technician. As he had hoped, Giordino had slipped out of the tank and circled around the back.

Between the alarms and the sloshing water, there was enough noise to mask Giordino’s approach, yet Pitt kept talking to hold the man’s attention.

“May we put our arms down?” Pitt slowly lowered his arm. “There’s been a misunderstanding. We’re part of the tank inspection crew, assigned to make repairs. We found a number of leaks.”

“Keep your arms up!” The man motioned with his gun toward the ceiling. He saw the reflection of movement on the side of the tank. Before he could turn, Giordino lunged and clasped him in a bear hug.

The technician struggled to break free, but he had no chance against Giordino’s grip. Pitt stepped forward and finished the job, throwing a left and right to the head that left the technician barely conscious. Giordino ripped away the man’s gun and let him slump to the floor.

“You’re not liable to land a job here if you keep treating the employees so harshly,” Pitt said.

Giordino shook his head. “I hear their retirement plan is crummy anyway.”

They gathered up Perkins and started for the back door.

The old scientist held up a hand. “Just a minute, if I may.” Perkins hobbled to the control platform and began flipping levers and twisting dials. Overhead valves opened across the room, dumping more fluid onto the floor. Perkins rejoined Pitt and Giordino carrying a twinkle in his eye. “Some additional mayhem to keep them busy a while.”

They hurried to the back freight door, where Giordino pumped two shots from the pistol into the locking mechanism.

Pitt pushed the door open, revealing a paved lane that curved toward the entrance. In front of them, a yard filled with shrubs extended to the shore of the loch.

Giordino grabbed Perkins’s arm and helped him through the door, then hesitated. Pitt wasn’t moving. “Getting sentimental about leaving this place?” he asked.

“The plans. We need to know where the Evolution Plague has been deployed and what ships are carrying it.”

“I believe they keep that information in a green binder in the conference room,” Perkins said.

“Don’t forget, our sleeping pal over there just called for help,” Giordino said. “Someone more adept with a weapon will likely be here shortly.”

Pitt simply nodded.

Giordino knew there was no point trying to change Pitt’s mind. He handed him the pistol he’d taken from the technician, a SIG Sauer P320. “We’ll wait for you at the Sea Nymph.”

Pitt grabbed the gun. “I’ll try and beat you there.”

Both moved at a hustle, Giordino leading Perkins out the back door toward the dock, Pitt crossing the production room to its front door.

Water was seeping into the hallway as Pitt exited the bay. General chaos pervaded the facility. Alarms were sounding, people were rushing up and down the corridor. Escaping the kennels, the dogs began running across the yard, barking up a storm.

“What in bloody hell is going on?” cursed a man in a white coat, who rushed past Pitt into the flooded bay.

Thankful for his own lab coat, Pitt hurried down the hall, his wet appearance drawing only a few odd looks. Near the end of the hall, several men in dark clothes sprinted in his direction. He ducked into a vacant office and watched as Richards and two guards ran to the production room.

Pitt exited the office and made his way to the conference room. Thankfully, it was empty. Crossing the length of the room, he searched for the green binder. It took a few minutes, but he found it on the very last shelf. A simple label on the front cover said EP DEPLOYMENTS.