James Chase - Mission to Siena

She screamed. Don, nearly knocked off his feet, made a grab at her and missed. He saw her go under and then reappear further down the corridor.

Englemann had been knocked down by the rush of water. He came spluttering to the surface. The water was now only three feet from the ceiling of the passage, and was rising fast.

Don went into a racing dive towards Lorelli. He had to swim past Englemann whose groping hands caught hold of Don’s coat and dragged him down.

Don closed with him. For a long moment Englemann fought desperately, his hands clutching at Don’s throat. Then Don broke his hold and threw him off and turning, went after Lorelli. He reached her side as Englemann came to the surface, his face livid with fear. Lorelli screamed as Englemann clutched hold of her. Don hit him in the face, pulled Lorelli clear of him and shouted to her, “Don’t struggle. Let me handle you.”

By now they were only a few inches from the ceiling.

“Catch hold of my coat,” he went on, and swam with quick, powerful strokes to the open doorway, towing her behind him. He got her through the doorway, then turning, he pushed her ahead of him until they reached the bottom of the stairs. He hesitated, wondering if he should go back for Englemann, then seeing the water had already reached the ceiling of the corridor, decided against it. He got Lorelli on to the steps while the water swirled around them, then half-carrying her, half-pushing her, he got her up the steps to the small landing above where Carlos and Felix were.

Felix was examining the steel door.

“We’re not going to get this damn thing open,” he said. “It fits too tight.”

Don joined him. One look at the door showed him Felix was right.

“Only if the electric current’s on, and if it’s turned on now, we’ll probably be electrocuted.”

“We’ll take it in turns to signal,” Don said. “We’ve got to let my chaps know where we are.”

He picked up the crowbar and began tapping on the door.

Then suddenly the lights went out and they were left in black, suffocating darkness.

“It’s a wonder that didn’t happen before,” Don said. “The last of the fuses must have blown.”

He continued his tapping.

“The water’s rising,” Lorelli said suddenly. “It’s round my feet.”

Carlos crowded up on to the top step, pushing Felix back.

“Get out of my way,” he snarled.

Felix, suddenly knee-deep in water, panicked. He grabbed hold of Carlos and tried to get back to his original position.

Don heard Carlos grunt, then there was the sound of a heavy blow and a groan, followed by a splash.

Lorelli screamed again.

Don reached out into the darkness with groping fingers. He touched Carlos’s sleeve. Snarling in panic, the great negro turned on him, his hands grabbing Don’s coat front. He swept Don off his feet. Don hooked his leg around Carlos’s thigh and caught hold of his neck with both hands. Carlos hit him a sledgehammer blow in the body. Don’s fingers slid down the great throat until they reached the artery, then he squeezed with all the strength in his hands. He got another punch that sickened him, then Carlos lost his balance, and together they fell off the steps and rolled into the water.

Under the cold, suffocating water, Don felt himself bumping down the steps into the submerged corridor. Carlos’s grip slackened. Don made a tremendous effort, and threw the negro off, then he fought his way to the surface, reached one of the steps that was just clear of the water, and as he got one knee on it, he felt Carlos’s fingers close around his ankle.

He kicked back, but his foot missed Carlos and he was jerked into the water again. He had just time to draw in a deep breath before he sank. He groped around in the water for Carlos, but couldn’t find him, then he broke surface.

The light on the landing suddenly glimmered, making a tiny orange glow.

In the dim light he saw Carlos was standing on the lower step, his great lips drawn back, his white teeth gleaming.

Don swam towards him and as he reached for the step, Carlos kicked out at him, his boot narrowly missing Don’s face as Don threw himself sideways. He looked beyond Carlos to where Lorelli stood at the head of the steps, watching. He knew in a few minutes the rising water would bring him within reach of the huge boot. Unless Lorelli did something, he had the choice of drowning or having his head kicked in.

Lorelli acted. Picking up the crowbar, she crept down the steps until she was within range, and then swinging the iron bar above her head, she aimed a vicious blow at Carlos.

The negro half-turned, threw up his arm, but was a fraction late. The bar caught him on the top of his head and he fell slackly forward, sliding into the water.

Don made a grab at him, caught his coat, but his weight was too much for Don’s failing strength. As he began to sink himself, he let go of Carlos and kicking out feebly, swam to where Lorelli, up to her waist in water, was holding out her hand to him. She pulled him, gasping, on to a submerged step. He heaved himself further out of the water. Then as he stood upright, he heard a faint shout that came through the steel door at the head of the stairs.

Catching Lorelli by her hand, Don staggered up the steps, as the shout came again.

Water was above his knees as Don, his ami around Lorelli, reached the top step. They leaned against the steel door.

“Is that you, Harry?” Don shouted.

“It’s me all right, sir,” Harry shouted back. “I’m trying to get the door open. Can I use dynamite?”

“No!” Don shouted. “We’re right by the door and we can’t get away from it. The water’s up to us and rising fast.”

“Okay, I’ll fix it somehow,” Harry said. “Can you hang on for five minutes?”

“It’ll have to be faster than that,” Don said as a sudden surge of water nearly had him off his feet.

“I’ll fix it,” Harry said.

Lorelli clung to Don.

“They won’t do it,” she said. “They can’t do it.”

“I’ve never known Harry to be beaten yet,” Don said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. He couldn’t see how Harry could get them out in time. “Hold on to me and take it easy.” The water had risen to Lorelli’s shoulders. In the dim light, her face was drawn and white.

They waited as the minutes dragged by, the water rising inch by inch.

“You still there, sir?” Harry’s voice demanded suddenly.

“Yes. What’s happening?”

“I’ve sent three of Giuseppe’s men down to the lake. They’re going to blast the pipe that’s taking the water in to you. They’ll be as quick as they can.”

“Fine,” Don said. “Well done, Harry.”

“I’ll be back,” Harry said. “It won’t be long now.”

Don held Lorelli above the water which was up to his shoulders.

“Keep your arms and legs moving,” he said to her. “We’ve still got about three feet of head room. They’ll fix it before it reaches the top.”

By now he was swimming himself, holding on to her with one hand.

The water continued to rise, although its speed had slackened slightly. Don reached up and touched the ceiling. In another three or four minutes, the water would be over their heads.

“Turn on your back, and get your head as far into the water as you can.” He supported her as she floated. “Scared?”

“Not as much as I was. Are you?”

“I guess so, but it doesn’t help, does it?”

“Felix is dead, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he’s dead. Don’t think about any of them.”

“And I’m not even sorry. I feel as if he never existed.”

The dim orange light flared up suddenly, lighting up the uneven surface of the rock six inches from their upturned faces, then it went out, leaving them in darkness.