Robin Cook - Abduction

“How much farther to this supposed wall?” Perry asked.

Donald yelled again in the direction they were going. The echo came back in a couple of seconds. “I’d guess somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred yards.”

Sudden movement and a series of slapping sounds in the darkness to their immediate left made them all jump. Donald whipped the light around and shined it in the direction of the noise. A stranded fish made a few more agonal flip-flops against the wet mud.

“Oh, my gosh, that scared the bejesus out of me,” Suzanne admitted. Her hand was pressed against her chest. Her heart was racing.

“You and me both,” Perry confessed.

“We’re all understandably on edge,” Donald said. “If you two want to go back, I’ll continue the reconnoiter myself.”

“No, I’ll stick it out,” Suzanne said.

“Me, too,” Perry said. The idea of returning to the submersible by himself was worse than forging ahead through the mire.

“Then, let’s move out,” Donald said. He started off again and the others fell in behind him.

The group slogged ahead in silence. Each step into the unknown blackness ratcheted up their fears and anxiety. The submersible behind them was being swallowed up in the darkness. After another ten minutes they were all as tense as a piano wire about to snap, and that was when the alarm sounded.

The short burst of sound crashed out of the stillness like cannon fire. At first the group froze in their tracks, frantically attempting to determine from which direction the alarm had come. But with the multiple echoes it was impossible to tell. In the next instant they were all slogging their way back toward the submersible.

It was flight in full panic; a mad dash for supposed safety. Unfortunately, the mud did not cooperate. All three tripped almost immediately and fell headfirst into the odious ooze. Regaining their feet, they tried to run again, with the same result.

Without a word to establish consensus, they resigned themselves to a slower gait. After a few minutes, their lack of significant headway made the futility of their flight apparent. Since there had been no surge of water refilling the cavern, all three stopped within steps of each other, their chests heaving.

The multiple echoes from the horrendous alarm died out and in their wake the preternatural stillness returned. Once again it settled back over the inky darkness like the smothering blanket in Perry’s nightmare.

Suzanne raised her hands. The muck, which she knew was a combination of planktonic carcasses and feces of innumerable worms, dripped from her fingers. She wanted desperately to wipe her eyes, but she didn’t dare. Donald, who was slightly ahead, turned to face Suzanne and Perry. Mud was streaked across the glass of his flashlight, reducing its effect so that he was lost in shadow to the others. They could just make out the whites of his eyes.

“What in God’s name was that alarm?” Suzanne managed. She spit some grainy debris from her mouth. She didn’t want to think of what it might have been.

“I was afraid it meant the water was returning,” Perry admitted.

“Regardless of what its actual meaning is,” Donald said, “for us it has an overarching significance.”

“What are you talking about?” Perry questioned.

“I know what he means,” Suzanne said. “He means that this is no natural geological formation.”

“Exactly!” Donald said. “It’s got to be a remnant of the Cold War. And since I had top-secret clearance in the United States submarine service, I can tell you it’s not our installation. It has to be Russian!”

“You mean like some kind of secret base?” Perry asked. He glanced around the black void, now more awestruck than frightened.

“That’s the only thing I can imagine,” Donald said. “Some kind of nuclear submarine facility.”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Suzanne said. “And if it is, our future is suddenly significantly brighter.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no,” Donald said. “First, it’s going to make a difference only if somebody is still manning the facility. If there is, then our next worry has to be how much they want to keep it a secret.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Suzanne admitted.

“But the Cold War is over,” Perry said. “Surely we don’t have to worry about that old cloak-and-dagger stuff.”

“There are people in the Russian military who feel differently,” Donald said. “I know because I have met them.”

“So what do you think we should do at this point?” Suzanne asked.

“I think that question has just been answered for us,” Donald said. He raised his free hand and pointed over the shoulders of the others. “Look over there, in the direction we were going before the alarm sounded!”

Suzanne and Perry spun around. About a quarter of a mile away a single door was slowly opening inward into the blackness. Bright artificial light spilled from the room beyond into the dark cavern, forming a line of reflection that extended to their feet. The trio was too far away to see any interior details, but they could tell the light was intense.

“So much for the question whether the facility is manned or not,” Donald said. “Obviously, we are not alone. Now the question becomes how happy they are to see us.”

“Do you think we should walk over there?” Perry asked.

“We don’t have much choice,” Donald said. “We’ll have to go at some point.”

“Why didn’t they just come in here and meet us in person?” Suzanne asked.

“A good question,” Donald said. “Maybe it has something to do with the welcome they are planning for us.”

“I’m getting scared again,” Suzanne said. “This is very bizarre.”

“I’ve never stopped being scared,” Perry admitted.

“Let’s go meet our captors,” Donald said. “And let’s hope they don’t consider us spies-and that they are familiar with the terms of the Geneva Convention.”

Straightening himself, Donald started forward, seemingly oblivious to the mud sucking at his feet. He passed his two companions, who had to admire his courage and leadership.

Perry and Suzanne hesitated for a moment before falling in behind the retired naval commander. Neither spoke as they resignedly trudged in his footsteps toward the beckoning door. They had no idea whether it would provide deliverance or further trials, but as Donald had said, they did not have any choice.

It was slow going. At one point, Perry slipped and fell back into the mire. He was covered with the ooze.

“The first thing I’m going to do is demand a shower,” Perry sputtered trying to lighten the mood. He was not successful. No one responded.

As they approached the open door, they hoped that their misgivings would be allayed. But no welcoming figures appeared at the threshold, and the light spilling out into the darkness was so bright they were unable to see inside. It was even difficult to look at the opening without shielding their eyes.

When they got close enough, they could appreciate that the door was almost two feet thick with a ring of huge throw bolts countersunk into its periphery. It looked like a door to a vault. The edges of the massive portal were angled in. It was obviously constructed to withstand the enormous pressure of seawater flooding the cavern.

At about twenty-five feet from the wall Suzanne and Perry stopped. They were reluctant to proceed without a clearer idea of what they were getting into. They studied the door for clues. From what they could tell, it appeared as if the walls, floor, and ceiling within were constructed of stainless steel that gleamed like mirrors.

Donald had continued ahead on his own, and although he did not step over the threshold, he leaned in. With his forearm acting as a shield against the reflected light, he surveyed the room.