Tags:
thriller,
Science-Fiction,
Action,
Military,
War,
Virus,
Alien,
Combat,
Apocalyptic,
Plague,
Nuclear,
veteran,
disease,
submarine
off
and shot him with a trank.
“Open all the doors! Get this place aired
out,” Nguyen called, then spotted Kelley and his shattered face.
“Doc, we’re going to need you up here as soon as you can.”
“Just as soon as I stick Harres’ skull back
on, okay sir?” Doc muttered something about “a little too much fun
here,” then fell silent.
As soon as the control room cleared, they
tranked the other two men lying there – the ship’s captain and the
executive officer. Alkina reached down to feel around underneath
the captain’s tunic, coming up with nothing but dog tags on a
chain. “No key.”
“They didn’t have time to get them out of the
safes. Bitzer –” Spooky glanced around, seeing the sub driver
already sitting at the helm – “good, what’s the status?”
“Depth is five hundred five feet, sir.
Inertial navigation is green and we can head for Fiji as soon as we
dump the mini.”
“Just get us moving away from here, slow and
quiet, before that other submersible shows up.” Spooky switched on
his UWB mike. “Whoever is not otherwise engaged please come up to
the control room and help carry Kelley down to the infirmary.”
“Roger, on my way.” Repeth slung her weapon,
running up the ladder and along the passageway to the control
room.
“You two ladies take Kelley down, please,”
Spooky ordered politely.
Alkina’s nostrils flared for a moment, then
she smiled slightly and shrugged. She reached for Kelley’s legs,
leaving the heavier upper body to the Marine. “One, two, three,
up.”
The two women carried Kelley’s dead weight
awkwardly down to the infirmary. Repeth had to perform a fireman’s
carry to get him down the ladder, a difficult and time-consuming
operation. When they finally got Kelley to the medical space, they
saw Major Muzik and Doc standing over Harres, looking pleased.
Doc said, “Excellent job, if I do say so
myself. Damn, what have we here? Put him on the deck, I don’t want
to move Harres yet. Ugh, looks like the bullet entered his cheek
here, took out some teeth and bone, then exited the other side.
Flesh wounds healing nicely…hand me that locking forceps. No, the locking forceps. Yes, that one. Got to get this broken tooth
out, it’s knocked all sideways…scalpel please. Thank you…” He
deftly pulled and cut, swabbed and packed.
Alkina looked expectantly at Muzik and
Repeth. “The gas will be wearing off soon. Shouldn’t you two clear
the rest of the boat? I am sure there are several spaces that
haven’t been checked, and everyone should be tranked.” At their
hesitation, she smiled faintly, an odd unnatural thing. “It’s all
right, I’ll assist here if he needs anything.”
“Right. Good idea. Let’s go, Sergeant.” Muzik
led off.
“That’s Gunnery Sergeant, sir.” Repeth opened
doors and hatches, clearing tiny spaces one by one.
“Sorry, you know I was Army.” He found a
groggy sailor, tranked him
“Can’t all be the best, sir.”
He snorted. “You got that right. How were
your last hand-to-hand scores? Or your bench?”
“I don’t remember, sir; how was your run
time? Or your range qual?”
“Ouch, okay, I yield.” He grinned at her, but
she didn’t smile back. Touchy …
“Hey, here’s the galley. That’s the chow hall
to you Army types. Something’s cooking.” They moved into the food
preparation area and turned off the electric cooking appliances,
sampling the simmering food as they did it. Some kind of beef stew.
Jill futilely wished it was Rick along with her instead of Muzik,
if only so she wouldn't have to keep looking at the Major's
annoyingly handsome and cheerful face.
-7-
Chairman Markis asked, “Millie, could you
put this away, and bring Rick up with you?” ‘This’ was an
old-fashioned laptop without any capability to transmit or transfer
data. It was inconvenient, but very secure.
Cassandra Johnstone waited until her daughter
had left with the laptop before speaking.