Dark Rule (COIL Book 3), page 4
"Mr. Niles and Guntari used to work together?"
"Yeah, before we uncovered a plot by Captain Sardan to take over Gilgal for himself once we gained control of it. That's when the lines were drawn. The whole crew but Guntari has joined Mr. Niles."
"And what's kept Captain Sardan alive?" Nathan watched Marlon's face and posture. Body language, under a trained eye, could betray a lie, but Marlon seemed to be telling the truth.
"Are you kidding? You've seen how digitalized this ship is. Captain Sardan controls the power—electric and propane, solar and wind." Marlon's eyes focused on Nathan's new keycard necklace. "You apparently know all about leverage."
"What's the current status of Gilgal?"
"We cut off their surface buoy two months ago, so their communications are down with anyone they may know in the world, but they have a rebreather oxidation system that could last for years. Their food and water are presumably unlimited with hydroponics and the salt water desalinator plant. Those Gillies might be religious crazies, but they know their engineering." He looked over his shoulder. They were still alone. "We're drilling the last few habitation sub-chambers right now, working around the clock. Mr. Niles wants to be done in three days."
"You need to stall." Nathan finally understood why he was there. Religious crazies? He'd been called that before as well when standing up for Christ. "No one else can die, Marlon."
"It won't be easy. We can see the Gillies through the top of the central dome. They're in a panic, and Mr. Niles means to take advantage of that. We've been forcing them into the central chamber a little at a time, but they're still barring us from access to their submersible port. Mr. Niles wants to take control of Gilgal without damaging the central dome, but those Christians are stubborn—or suicidal."
"How many Gillies are we talking about here, Marlon?"
"Capacity is eighty, from what I've seen. Our guess is they have about half that, maybe a few more with our defectors joining them."
"Is Chen Li one of the dead or one of the defectors?"
"So, you really do know what you're talking about." Marlon frowned so deeply, Nathan could see his angled brow in the deck lights. "She was wounded. But I don't know if she made it into Gilgal. I liked that girl. She was one of yours?"
"Who wounded her?" Nathan quickly checked his anger. He'd never met Chen Li, but she was a COIL operative. "Never mind. Knowing that won't help. What are the chances she made it into Gilgal?"
"Hard to say. Anything could've happened down there that night. We've wrecked three submersibles and lost four men and two women. It's black as night and the atmospheres are beyond human tolerance at three thousand feet. One air lock fails and—" Marlon snapped his fingers, "you're squashed."
"Three thousand feet." Nathan whistled. He'd received his combat diver certificate at Key West in his training days, but no one could dive at that depth. "I want a diagram of Gilgal by dawn. I want to know what we're working with."
"That shouldn't be a problem."
"Why aren't the Gillies rising to the surface?"
"Impossible. They're a city resting on the sea floor, and we've destroyed all their submersibles. As far as we know, they have no more of the submersible rovers." Marlon shifted his weight. "More pressing is this Guntari thing. You're supposed to kill him for Mr. Niles, and I'm supposed to make sure you follow through."
"I'm not killing anyone, Marlon." Nathan paused, but Marlon didn't object. "How much does Mr. Niles trust you?"
"He doesn't trust anyone much, but me more than most, I guess, since he gave me charge of the armory."
"Tell him you told me to defect to Captain Sardan's side. Instead of killing Guntari, Mr. Niles can think I've joined them to secretly work from the inside for Mr. Niles."
"This is getting too complicated." Marlon shook his head.
"Let me handle the complications." Inside, Nathan prayed that God gave him the wits to endure. Such a mess of unknowns could only be sorted out by God Almighty.
"And how is this supposed to end?"
"You work inside with Mr. Niles, and I'll work with Captain Sardan, except we both pretend things are normal. When it's time, you and I will make our move. We'll take over the Materia and rescue the Gillies. I'll work it out."
"That's it?" Marlon chuckled. "I mean, what's to gain?"
"We walk away, knowing we saved lives and put away some bad people. And you probably won't do much prison time if you follow through."
"I'm either desperate or stupid to be doing this with you." He scuffed his shoe on the deck. "Mr. Niles promised us the Gilgal, not to mention whatever wealth came from what they have down there—technology the rest of the world may not know about."
"Think of it this way: you're about to do the first honorable thing in a long time. Am I right?" Nathan offered his hand, and Marlon accepted it. Marlon had a grip like the weathered mercenary he was. "Knock on my cabin wall twice when we need to meet. Our primary meeting place will be here. Our secondary will be on the helipad."
"The helipad's in plain sight of the stern operators."
"Secrets are best kept in plain sight."
Nathan started toward the port walkway and Marlon began to walk toward the starboard, when Marlon snapped his fingers to get Nathan's attention.
"Hey, why did your people send you all alone?" he whispered. "Why not a team?"
"You've tasted what Patrick Gibson has to offer." Nathan smiled. "I think you know the answer to that."
"One Patrick Gibson is enough?" Marlon nodded. "Right."
"Stay sharp, Marlon."
*~*
Chapter Four
Marlon had never felt like this before—or if he had, he certainly couldn't remember. He was happy. He was actually joyful! But he had to keep it suppressed. Patrick Gibson had changed his life! As Trevor Niles' chief security officer, Marlon had to remain the way he'd always been— scowling, angry, depressed. Though he wasn't the tallest man on board, he was the broadest in shoulder. And his hand of discipline had been firm on those who lacked their own discipline on the explorer vessel.
Donning a fleece jacket, Marlon stepped onto the stern dive platform for his early morning shift underwater in one of the two submersibles. It was a warm January night on board, but the bubble-like rover temperatures often dropped below fifty degrees at three thousand feet.
Niles was keeping pressure on the Gilgal habitat, unsure of what those in the submerged and capsulated civilization might try to do. Taking no risks, he kept their two submersibles on an irregular dive schedule to ensure no one from Gilgal escaped or sent another buoy or message to the surface in a call for help—though the jammers were sure to block any outgoing signals.
"Only five chambers left, Marlon," a shorthaired woman said as Marlon climbed into the deep-sea submersible. Sam was a Scandinavian who competed with him to see who would force the Gillies to surrender first. "Save some for me tonight, huh?"
"You only drilled two overnight?" He scoffed, keeping up with their familiar banter, though his mind was on other priorities now. "Why do you even take a shift if you're going to waste it like that?"
As Marlon eased himself into the pilot control seat, she punched him hard on the shoulder. Before he could respond, Sam blew him a kiss and slammed the access door—sealing it with a twist of the wheel lock.
"She flirts with you," Stajner accused with jealousy in his voice. The skinny Czech had attempted to verbally spar with Sam like Marlon always did, but she'd humiliated him by calling him a toothpick, which had become his new nickname on board. He hated it. "It's not genuine, Marlon. She says you're lazy."
Ignoring the man, Marlon strapped himself into the seat in the two-man pod. If it were possible to operate the cutting torch and submersible controls with only two hands, Marlon would've gone alone.
"We're ready for dive." Marlon gave the operators on the Materia a thumbs-up. The twenty-ton capacity crane lifted the submersible upward with a jerk, then swung it over the water.
The water encased the bubble, then the crane released them with a muffled metallic clang. Stajner flipped switches as the rover tractors started up, driving them at a steep angle into the murky blackness below. He turned on lights and digital oxygen gauges. Regardless of his sour mood, Stajner was the best submersible operator on board the Materia.
In seconds, they were lost in the darkness, surrounded only by the thick glass bubble. Marlon felt the familiar exhilaration of being cut off from the world in the most dangerous environment known to man—second only to outer space.
"Watch our horizon," Stajner said.
Correcting their angle of descent, Marlon was aware that an underwater current often caused drifting, distorting their equilibrium. If a pilot didn't focus, he could be lost forever in the ocean depths.
Before taking his dive shift, Marlon had given Patrick the schematics of Gilgal, though the two men hadn't spoken openly again as they had on the bow the evening before. Marlon knew that having such a secret from Niles was reckless. The man had a sense for defectors. But Marlon hoped honor was on his side now. He'd been a ruthless soldier of fortune for as long as he could remember. Only when Patrick had given him another option did Marlon realize how much he truly craved the path less traveled. Patrick had opened the door for him to be a hero.
"To starboard." Stajner pointed to the right, and Marlon decreased the rover's descent by stabilizing the horizon, the rest accomplished by automated atmospheric ballasts fore and aft. They were at depth, and the green glow of Gilgal's internal lights directed them to the multi-chambered habitat.
Wiping condensation off a digital screen, Stajner used the touchpad to program their next target for drilling.
"Two more nights, and they're finished." Stajner rubbed his hands together, the sensitive controls not permitting him to wear gloves. "What are we going to do with them when they surrender?"
Marlon piloted the rover over Gilgal's main living chamber, a thick plastic dome two hundred yards in diameter. He leaned over to look straight down at people among a jungle of equipment and vegetation, the two sometimes merging inside the close quarters. For months, Marlon had dreamed of what it would be like to be a secret citizen of Gilgal. Now, he anticipated redemption—a door Patrick had opened.
"Look at those fools!" Stajner cursed, working the joysticks on his armrests that controlled the robotic arms extending off the front of the rover. "Wait until they realize their God won't let them breathe water!"
This time Marlon didn't laugh with him, not even a chuckle, as he may have in the past. He was finished justifying the evils of Niles. Marlon had hated the Gillies for a long time, envying them for reasons separate from Niles. The Gillies were Christians, isolating themselves from the world, waiting for Christ's return. Having seen their website, Marlon wondered if all Christians had such tendencies nowadays—to hide from the world. Under so much persecution, maybe hiding was what all serious Christians did anymore.
In contrast, Niles had recruited his underwater mercenaries, like Marlon, to operate Gilgal once they took it over. Now, for the first time, Marlon was disturbed that he hadn't cared if the Gillies lived or died in the attempted takeover. Children and women were down there, according to the website, though the site hadn't explained where Gilgal might be. That was something Niles had discovered himself, using the Materia's communication system.
Stajner switched on the external cameras, two angles, to record their drilling and cutting operation. Once they reached the far edge of Gilgal's central dome, the spider-like arms of its twelve sub-chambered autonomous living quarters came into sight wherever the submersible's spotlights shined through the hazy water.
Descending to one of the five sub-chambers not yet drilled, Marlon looked in on the lit dwelling quarters through its twenty-foot-high dome roof, as if spying like God through the rooftop of a residential condominium. Several Gillies pointed up at the roof, the submersible made visible to them no doubt by its many bright lights.
While Marlon watched, the residents fled the sub-chamber, a couple adults pausing on their way into a tunnel passage to power down the sub-chamber—which they seemed to know from experience was about to be flooded with sea water as the other seven already had been.
"Run, little fairies!" Stajner cackled. "Hold your breaths!"
As Stajner turned away and looked down, Marlon lifted his arm and elbowed the Czech hard on the side of the head. He slumped unconsciously against his seatbelt straps. An instant later, Marlon jerked the navigational controls back, then shut off the camera recorders. Marlon had tried to think of a way he could stall the operation for Patrick; he'd have to say Stajner was knocked unconscious when they were bumped from behind, and the cameras malfunctioned. And now Stajner's head bore the welt to prove the attack.
Steering the rover down to the sea floor, Marlon found a jagged piece of reef encrusted with sea vegetation, mostly seapens and crinoids. He turned the submersible around and backed up to the reef until he heard a scraping and creaking sound, just enough to cause minimal external evidence of a possible collision with another vehicle—but not so much that Marlon couldn't still reach the surface.
Next, he piloted over the central dome and dropped down to the partition of plastic where he could look straight ahead into the chamber of the commons area. A congregation of residents already had gathered there. Marlon watched them flee from the room at the sight of his lights, perhaps afraid he was about to drill the main chamber, but a few residents remained. Perfect! He didn't have long until Stajner awoke.
The submersible idled automatically as Marlon switched off external pod lights so they could see him better. From inside his jacket, he drew a month-old folded newspaper. Unfolding the paper, he held it up to his glass, showing the few residents of Gilgal who were still in the commons area a message written in red marker: "You have friends. We won't let you die."
It was the only message Marlon could imagine that would mean anything—a message of hope. If the Materia wasn't already jamming frequencies by a buoyed jammer on a cable, he could've spoken on a channel directly to the Gillies, but Niles didn't want any communication in or out of Gilgal.
Marlon folded up his message and tucked it into his jacket. One of the people inside the dome seemed familiar. A short woman with straight black hair, but bold in posture—it was Chen Li! She was close enough to the plastic to rest a hand on the dome shell. Her other hand was preoccupied with a crutch. So, Chen Li was still alive, her crutch presumably the aftereffects of an injury incurred when escaping the Materia. Patrick would be pleased to hear it since he'd asked specifically about her. But what about the other defectors?
For a few seconds, Chen Li did something with her hands, then she pressed a response against the dome plastic for Marlon to read. He had to switch on one headlight and squint to read the black lettering: "How can we trust you, Marlon?"
Initially, Marlon was offended, but then he considered the situation. Chen Li had known him on board the Materia as Nile's ruthless security officer in charge of weaponry. Two months earlier, he'd tried to kill her, along with other defectors, and in the last couple weeks, he'd been actively involved in drilling the sub-chambers of Gilgal in an effort to force their surrender—or death.
Since he didn't have a way to write another message for them, Marlon grabbed Stajner by his collar and shoved his unconscious face against the bubble. Chen Li would know him as well, Marlon guessed, since the skinny European who had a sneering remark for everything was always getting on people's nerves.
As he watched, Chen Li conversed with two Gillie men. Marlon wasn't as concerned about being trusted as much as he wanted his message of hope to be realized. Now, Patrick's plan was real—the Gillies were expecting rescue or relief. But would they open up their underwater submersible port on the belly of the city? That couldn't be tested yet. Stajner could wake at any moment. It was time to go.
Chen Li held up a second communication: "How many are there?"
Hesitating, Marlon didn't want to tell her it was just him and one man with a leg brace who claimed to be some sort of secret agent. So, Marlon held up seven fingers. Seven defectors. It was better than two, though it seemed that Patrick was worth six men!
Out of time, Marlon pulled back on the controls and switched on the tractors. As the rover crawled upward, Marlon turned on the cameras for more run-time. Twenty minutes later, the surface above came into sight. The shadow to the west was the Materia, and Marlon navigated toward it. Surprisingly, Stajner was still unconscious, but Marlon had checked his steady pulse several times to ensure the man was still okay.
When the submersible surfaced off the stern of the Materia, the divers weren't prepared for hauling her aboard since he was two hours earlier than expected. Drilling one or two sub-chambers of Gilgal took time, and sometimes debris had to be cleared from the flood holes and new holes drilled.
Divers jumped into the water to assist the attachment onto the crane. Niles stood on the back of the helipad, hands on his hips, his face hard. Marlon fixed a frown on his own face, reminding himself that liars were often discovered by overreacting or exaggerating. And he wasn't used to lying to Niles.
The rover settled on the stern, the top was unhinged, then Marlon climbed out hastily, slapping away any helping hands—including Sam's.
"Just help Stajner!" he ordered. "And check the electronics. We were attacked!"
Instead of using the interior stairs off the vehicle hangar, Marlon climbed up the equipment grating and swung onto the safety bars to reach the helipad.
"The Gillies attacked us." Marlon stood next to Niles and watched the divers and crew lift Stajner out of the pod. "They hit us from behind. Stajner hit his head and I lost power. As soon as I gained control, I came back up. We hadn't even started drilling!"
"How could the Gillies still have a submersible?" Niles took a deep breath. "You saw it yourself?"
"No, but I noticed their lights right afterward. They approached without lights, then fled. It was a stealth attack, Mr. Niles. Either they built a new vehicle or had one hidden in their docking chamber."
