Andy McDermott - The Hunt For Atlantis

In the confines of the temple, on the other hand…

“I still think this is a bad idea.”

“If it doesn’t work, you can sack me. Okay, I’m done.” The explosives were somewhat precariously stuck to the ceiling, wedged above one of the ivory ribs. The rib would be reduced to splinters within a millisecond of the charge detonating-the question was, how much of the explosive force would be directed upwards at the ceiling?

He had years of demolitions experience, but on this occasion, Chase was trusting to luck. It was all he could do.

“Get clear,” he told Kari, waving a hand at the far end of the temple. “And get as deep underwater as you can.”

“Okay.” She rolled and disappeared beneath the rippling surface, the lights on her suit fading like a departing spirit as she descended.

Chase looked back up at the detonator. “All right,” he said, psyching himself up. Activating the timer was a two-stage process: a pin had to be turned and removed before the detonator switch could be pressed. After that, a basic but effective clockwork mechanism counted down the sixty seconds. “Here goes…”

He twisted the steel pin through a half-turn, then pulled it out. The bomb was now armed. As soon as he pressed the button, there was no going back.

“Okay, Kari,” he said, not even sure if the signal from his suit radio would reach her through the water, “get ready. Sixty seconds starts… now!”

He pushed the switch and rolled off the statue’s head-

And jerked to a halt.

His equipment belt had snagged on the crown! “Oh shit,” he gasped, trying to kick himself free. To no effect. “Oh shit!”

The timer ticked down relentlessly.

“Five hundred meters, sir,” announced the captain.

“Good,” said Qobras, looking through the bridge windows. Ahead, the gleaming white Evenor was almost directly side-on, the bright yellow bulk of the Sharkdozer swaying gently from its crane at the bow. The lifeboats had dispersed, trying to get as far from the doomed ship as they could.

“Please,” Nina begged, “you don’t have to do this…”

Qobras didn’t look at her, his eyes fixed on the ship. “I’m afraid I do.”

He raised the first radio detonator and pushed the trigger.

Castille released the thruster control, drifting to a halt just above the temple roof. He had just heard something in his headphones, a brief crackle that sounded like a truncated obscenity.

“Edward?” he asked, swimming closer to the expanse of stone below. “Edward, is that you? Can you hear me?”

Then he heard something else.

Not in his headphones this time, but transmitted through the sea. A dull, echoing boom.

A sound he recognized all too well. An explosion in the water directly overhead.

There was only one thing it could mean.

Nina had expected a huge fireball to consume the bow of the Evenor , but the actual explosion was oddly anticlimactic. A vaporous blast coughed from the open hatches, small pieces of debris and fluttering papers flying out behind it. A white froth surged from beneath the waterline before rapidly dying away.

The full destructive effect, however, instantly became clear.

The ship’s bow almost immediately tipped downwards into the water, listing to starboard. Loose items slid across the decks and dropped into the sea, the Sharkdozer swinging violently out over the water. On the aft deck, the helicopter lurched, straining against the lines securing it to the pad.

The speed of the sinking amazed Nina. She watched in horrified fascination as the bow dropped into the ocean, gusts of compressed air blowing more debris out of the hatches. At this rate, it would take less than a minute before the foredeck was completely submerged.

Chase struggled to pull his belt from the crown, but, hampered by the shell of the deep suit, he couldn’t get a proper grip.

Forty seconds.

“Shit!”

A noise, a dull thud somewhere outside the temple. An explosion!

And then a muffled crackling in his headphones, someone’s voice fighting to pierce the static. Kari…

No! Castille!

“Edward! Can you hear me? Edward!”

If the radio was working without the relay, then he was close, very close. “Hugo!” Chase yelled. “Get out of here! I’ve set a bomb! Get out!”

“Edward! Say ag-”

Thirty seconds.

“Bomb!” screamed Chase. He fumbled for his knife. The equipment belt was pulled taut around his suit’s waist; he hacked desperately at it, trying to drive the point of the blade under the plastic-coated cord.

Castille’s eyes widened. Most of Chase’s transmission had been too distorted to make out, but the final word came through almost too clearly.

He kicked hard off the temple roof and propelled himself into open water at full power.

The Evenor’s list became a roll, the deck now tilted at almost forty-five degrees as the tip of the bow dropped beneath the waves. The helicopter broke free of its ties and skidded across the pad to smash against the water. Its tail sank first, air in the cockpit keeping the nose above the surface for a few seconds before the weight of the aircraft dragged it under.

On the foredeck, one of the cables supporting the Sharkdozer tore loose, the heavy craft swinging like a pendulum and hitting the water in an enormous burst of spray. Stressed past its limits, the crane sheared away at its base, plunging down the sloping deck to impale the stricken sub. Water surged through the gaping wound, and the Sharkdozer sank within seconds.

More debris plummeted from the ship as it capsized. Its stern rose out of the ocean, water streaming from the propellers.

Qobras held up the second detonator and, his face expressionless, pressed the trigger.

Twenty seconds-

“Come on, you bastard!”

Chase pushed the knife upwards like a lever, the point digging into the casing of his suit. Something cracked, and the belt snapped.

He dropped the eight feet to the water, landing flat on his back and banging his head against the inside of his helmet. But there was no time to think about the pain, because he had less than fifteen seconds to get clear.

With a final jet of steam and fumes from the fantail, the Evenor disappeared into the Atlantic, the last echoing sound from the dying ship like the cry of a wounded animal. A churning whirlpool of bubbles spewed up in its wake, hundreds of pieces of flotsam too light to sink swirling around in the maelstrom.

Its generators failed as water surged through the aft compartments, but its emergency lights were still aglow, battery-powered units all over the ship automatically activating as the main power went off. Trailing a jetstream of air bubbles behind it, the survey ship began its rapid, nose-first descent towards the seabed.

Towards Atlantis.

Qobras turned to his captain. “Take us back to port. Full speed.”

“Aye, sir.” The captain issued orders to his bridge crew. Ignored in a corner, Nina held a hand to her mouth as she tried to stop herself from sobbing.