Dark Rule (COIL Book 3), page 8
"If we take the submersible, we could go to the coast."
"It's miles away. We wouldn't make it but halfway. No, we have to take the Materia before they do anything else foolish."
"How?" She drew back a little, as if she were disappointed in him. "How long have you been a COIL agent?"
"A little while." He did his best to withhold a smile. "Long enough, I think."
"This isn't the job for one man who's been with the COIL agency for only a little while. No offense, but we need a lot more than we have."
"Okay." Nathan frowned and took his hand away from her to place both of his hands on his hips. Li's cuteness was beginning to fade. "What exactly do you foresee as a problem as I move forward?"
"So, you've subdued Mr. Niles, but he's hardly the only problem. There's Captain Sardan, and his bodyguard, Guntari, and the worst guy named Marlon, though as of late, I can't tell whose side he's on."
"I see." Nathan counted each one on his fingers. "Dead, dead, and as good as dead."
"What?" She cringed and gawked at him. "You . . . killed them?"
"Of course not! Well, maybe the last one, kind of." Nathan frowned at himself, sorry for the confusion he was creating. He took her by the shoulders. "I can take over the Materia with your help. They think I'm a killer and a fugitive. That sort of thing brings respect from people like them. They think I'm capable of terrible things. All we have to do is shut down the jammer and make a call. You know the people on board better than me. We can do this together."
"How long were you on board?"
"About two days."
"You won them over and gained Mr. Niles' confidence in two days?" Her original smile returned. "So, you're a little better than you give yourself credit for."
"It's not me. I'm just—"
"Hey!" One of Nicholas' men called to them. "Wasn't that guy in the submersible dead?"
"Who? Niles?" Nathan felt the blood drain from his face. He walked quickly out of the hydroponics section. "No, he's just been tranquilized for—"
His gaze fell upon the red light blinking on the dive chamber wall.
"He's awake! What did you use on him?" Li dashed to the wall and hit the control button to open the door. "Oh, he's taking the submersible! We'll be trapped again!"
The door didn't respond, so Nathan tried to fit his fingers into the inner chamber door crack to pry it open. Almost as quickly, Nicholas shoved him back.
"Let him go or you'll kill us all! If you open that door, we'll be flooded. We'll all drown!"
Nathan put his ear to the door and listened to the pressurized chamber fill with water. Had it been twenty minutes already? He'd overestimated the effects of the tranquilizer. Behind him, the citizens were silent, and Nathan turned around slowly. They stared at him as if he'd single-handedly sentenced them to die. Though it would mean little to them, he was glad he'd at least taken the explosive from the submersible robotic arm. But that was the only right thing he felt he'd done.
"What will he do now?" Nicholas asked Nathan.
"He'll return to the Materia and think of another way to take Gilgal." Nathan had difficulty meeting anyone's gaze directly. "I'm sorry. I should have—"
"Our generators will need a couple more hours, Nick," a mustached man said.
"Patrick, do we have until dawn before Niles tries another attack?"
"I think so, but what can you do that you haven't already tried?"
Nicholas turned to his people and began giving orders. He said they had a two and a half hour deadline to secure anything that could move. Nathan felt like a failure who wasn't worthy of an explanation as to what they intended to do.
Li seemed downcast, but at least she approached him when the others just turned their backs and walked away.
"Gilgal has a drive system. We're moving up the Reef, even outside the perimeter of Mr. Niles' jammers."
"A drive system?" Nathan smiled. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. But it's extremely dangerous. A city this size moving through darkness, navigating by sonar only—it's not something anyone has been looking forward to. That's the reason why we hadn't tried it when we had some hope of resolution. To be honest with you, one of the things I've been telling them is that COIL would come for me."
"But we can surface now, right?"
"Only as a last resort," Nicholas answered as he was walking by and stopped. "We've learned a hard lesson here. We won't make any more contact with the surface unless it's an emergency, and that includes sending a buoy topside. Our communications via satellite were probably how Niles tracked us down in the first place. We'll rise from the ocean floor in a couple hours, just enough to move northwest along the Reef."
"I don't understand." Nathan chuckled uneasily. "You have no other submersibles, and you don't want to surface? No offense, but you guys may have signed on to a life in a bubble, but what about Li and me? We can't swim out of here; we'd be crushed under the weight of so many atmospheres of water."
Nicholas glanced at a few of the older men, elders of the community, who shook their heads.
"No, we won't be surfacing. But we will be going to new coordinates where we won't be found again if we remain at depth. You two can submit to God's plan for you inside Gilgal if you let Him open your eyes to the blessings of living a sanctified life here. Ask Li. She's lived here for two months. It must feel like home now, doesn't it, Li?"
Nathan looked at Li whose eyes were wide with shock, as if she wanted to scream. That was Nathan's sentiment as well. This time, he was the one who took her hand in his. God's will couldn't be for them to hide from the world at the bottom of the ocean. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.
"Don't worry. I'll get you out of Gilgal. God's already given me an idea. We'll do it together. I'm not leaving your side."
*~*
Chapter Nine
Marlon had shed his clothes overnight, with the exception of his shorts. He clung to the donut life preserver, too exhausted to tread water any longer in the portside moon-shadow of the Materia. He'd witnessed the deployment of the two submersibles around midnight, and though it was nearly dawn, the two pods had still not returned. That meant either the divers were dead from the last explosion, or they'd entered Gilgal. Whatever the case, Marlon decided if he didn't sneak aboard the Materia for food and water soon, he was shark bait—for real this time.
The only place for a diver to crawl onto the Materia was at the stern where the tall crane cast an arching shadow over the dark sea. Marlon drifted down the hull, kicking only occasionally for cautious propulsion. He wondered if he'd made a mistake by remaining with the Materia to help Patrick Gibson. By now, Marlon could've been in an island cafe drinking some chilled coconut beverage.
The deck at the stern was four feet above the water surface, so Marlon had to climb up a panel, then lunge for the crane neck to reach the deck. He rolled against the waiting racks where the submersibles would be set once removed from the water. A woman laughed from the helipad overhead as two men spoke in low tones.
He had no friends on board, except maybe Sam. The close relationship he'd had with Niles as his right hand had made him the disciplinarian more than a few times. As a disciplinarian on a ship full of ex-cons, fugitives, and rebels, he hadn't been too popular, least of all with Stajner.
Rising to his feet, Marlon padded quietly into the vehicle hangar, then paused against the wall, which was cluttered with cables and dive machinery. His weariness was replaced by excitement. Who was left on board while the others were under water? The thought made him shiver with anticipation. If just the crew and Stajner were aboard, what stopped him from taking over the Materia? When Niles and Guntari returned, he could demand their capture or refuse to board them altogether. Or submit to Patrick's decision. If Patrick had successfully entered Gilgal as planned, and subdued Niles in the process, all that was left to do was to call in the authorities. Patrick would need a compliant crew for that.
As he moved against the wall, he peered through the doorway of the mission control room. For now, it was empty. If the crew were exploring the hidden recesses of the Reef, the control room would've been up and operating, its several screens bearing images of colorful fish and plants transmitted from the submersibles. But the frequency jammers ruined any capability to receive such pictures from the rovers below.
Finding overalls hanging in a closet, Marlon put them on, along with a pair of deck boots two sizes too large. From a counter drawer, he sorted through a number of knives he'd used in the past to fillet fish he'd caught off the dive platform. He tucked one knife into his shoe under his pant leg, and the other up his sleeve for quick access, the tip close to his elbow.
Someone on the helipad was drunkenly singing a filthy sailor's song. Alcohol was supposedly prohibited on board, according to Niles, which further confirmed no one of authority was aboard. The helipad was a frequent place for fraternizing on warm summer nights. Whoever else may have been on board was probably still asleep, waiting for the others to wake them when the submersibles returned.
There were few actual assignments handed down for the crew when the submersibles weren't on board. Most of the crew had been hand-selected, some by Marlon personally, for their specific expertise once inside Gilgal. With Patrick on the scene, Marlon didn't think any of the crew would see the inside of Gilgal, now.
Avoiding the helipad, Marlon moved deeper through the vehicle hangar and past the waste incinerator room. The galley was three steps farther down the corridor, but he stopped against the wall. Someone was in the galley. It had to be Rob, the cook, or his assistant with the red hair. Too famished to wait any longer, Marlon stepped around the corner and into the doorway. It was Rob, an Aussie with few actual culinary skills. The man looked up from a mixing bowl of powdered eggs, and froze.
"Marlon?" Rob's initial shock passed quickly. Though he was in his sixties now, Rob was a circumnavigator from his early years spent on various monohull racing crews. He was a tough man, recently having gained a belly, but otherwise sturdy. "Thought you were dead. I guess Sam can stop crying her eyes out now."
As Marlon moved farther along the counter, Rob set his egg bowl aside and glanced at a butcher knife nearby.
"Don't do it, Rob. I'm not here to deal with you." Marlon shook his head. "Bigger things than you know are happening right now. Mr. Niles is about to meet his end."
"Does he know you're alive?" There was a little gleam in Rob's eye. "That was some show you and the new fellow put on."
"You can join me or fall in with Mr. Niles."
"And you'll lead us?" Rob grinned.
"No. There's no one leading anymore. It's over."
"Says you." Rob's smile vanished. "I'll take my chances with Mr. Niles. He's been good to me so far."
Marlon didn't get a chance to respond. Rob grasped for the knife, but missed the handle, scattering the blade up the counter. Before he could actually get a grip on the knife, Marlon flung open the freezer door and knocked Rob unconscious. The noise had been significant, and perhaps others would've come to investigate, but a shout was made from the helipad.
"They're back! It's Mr. Niles! He's alone! He did it!"
A bell clanged and the ship-wide intercom announced the same message. The crew dashed for the stern dive platform from every direction, many of them running past the galley without noticing Marlon gulping down the powdered eggs and milk.
If Niles was back already, that foiled Marlon's plans to retake the Materia. He'd be better off leaving the ship again, but he wasn't too keen about going back into the salty water. His skin felt clammy and burned at the same time—one from the moisture and the other from the sun during the day before.
A week earlier, in the same situation, Marlon might have killed Rob to keep him silent. But already, Marlon recognized the difference inside him. After years of brutality, his conscience was crying out for relief. Even though it would've been to his benefit to finish Rob off, Marlon left the galley with a jug of water and a sealed bag of cashews.
While the crew was at the stern to hear the latest from Niles, Marlon crept down the stairs to the second deck and into the dive locker. The on-board mixing and storing of dive gas provided Marlon with his pick of a dozen oxygen tanks, full scuba gear, and rebreather systems. Using a netted tool bag, he bagged six tanks and two rebreather packs. He also donned a wetsuit to protect his skin, and a set of flippers, with a backup set in the bag.
Quietly, so as not to attract a look from the stern, Marlon opened the access door. Any moment, Rob would gain consciousness, and the ship would be searched for him. He dragged his bundle of breathing equipment to the door, then returned to the dive lockers. Anything he wasn't taking for himself, he didn't want anyone else to use to come after him. No doubt, they'd try to capture him, unless he made it impossible to do so.
The tanks and rebreathers he wasn't planning to take, he carried to the access door and dropped them as gently as possible into the ocean. Without buoyancy gear attached, the tanks sank instantly.
Finally, he was ready to leave, yet he hesitated. Sam. Could he just . . . leave her? They were hardly an item on board, but their relationship was building into something. So much depended on what Patrick had planned. Sure, Marlon knew he should wait for whatever Patrick was doing, and he could do so under water, but with another person? He had to try to help Sam. In many ways, he felt she was like him. Since no one had really opened the door for him to do the right thing, he'd only done bad. What if he gave Sam the same opportunity Patrick had given him?
In a hurry now, Marlon tied a rope to his dive gear bag and lowered it off the side of the ship into the water. He tied the other end of the rope to a hinge on the access door so when he closed it with some force, the rope was invisible from inside.
Marlon fit a dive mask over his face and pulled up the dive suit hood around his head. Though he was intent on disguising himself as much as possible for as long as possible, he planned to be prepared for a hasty abandonment of the Materia.
With an extra dive mask in his hand, he walked casually from the locker room and ascended the portside stairs to the third deck. He emerged from the shadows of the vehicle hangar as the crane operator worked with six men to bring the submersible aboard. Others were gathered around the A-frame crane, waiting for the latest news on Gilgal.
He spotted Sam in the pre-dawn light with the help of the stern deck lights. She worked as a free dive technician at times like these, and her work was now done. The crane's tether had been attached to the submersible, and she was drying her hair with a towel on the starboard side. Stajner approached and offered her a second towel. Marlon smiled to himself as she rejected his offer and moved away to the head of the vehicle hangar.
Seeing his moment, Marlon cupped his hand to his mouth.
"Sam, you got a minute?" he called casually, appreciating the nasal distortion the dive mask created on his voice. Still drying her hair, she walked into the hangar. Marlon backed up the stairs a few steps to get out of sight of the others.
"Hello?" She rounded the corner. Her eyes squinted, then her hands went to her mouth. After glancing toward the stern, she bounded into his arms. "You aanklager! I saw you die!"
He tolerated her kisses for a moment, hoping to remember later to ask what she'd called him in her native Dutch, then held her at arm's length.
"I don't have long. Listen to me. Are you listening?" He guided her farther up the narrow stairs. "This is life and death."
"What's going on?"
"Government agents are on their way. Interpol, others—I don't know everything. Anyone at Mr. Niles' side will be arrested for what we're doing here to the Gillies. They know all about the operation."
"Is that why you sabotaged the armory keycard?"
"What? No. Long story. I'm leaving the ship. You have to come with me. Please, Sam . . ."
"Where is there to go?" She smiled and looked down the stairs, suddenly seeming distrustful of him. "You have a boat we haven't noticed on the horizon?"
"No, we'll go under water. We'll stay in the second atmosphere. We can wait there for a few hours until this business blows over."
"That's . . . insane, Marlon. How do you know this stuff? Where are the agents?" Sam shook her head. "Marlon, I'm not sure you're making any sense. If Interpol knew about us, we'd be arrested."
"I can't explain everything right now. You have to trust me. Are you coming or not?"
"But . . . Mr. Niles just came back from Gilgal. He's obviously been there! Inside Gilgal! Think of it!"
Marlon blinked in frustration.
"Sam, there won't be any Gilgal for us. Listen! Patrick Gibson is a federal officer of some sort. That's how I'm still alive. Mr. Niles won't be allowed to rule from Gilgal."
"What? No!" She pushed him away and stepped down the stairs. "Marlon, you're not making any sense. I don't believe you. We've been working so hard on this. Mr. Niles said you'd lost your mind. Just look at you!"
"Aren't you listening?" He held out his hands. "Mr. Niles is about to be busted! The whole crew will be imprisoned with him!"
"Sam? Are you up there?" Stajner was at the foot of the stairs. "Mr. Niles says Captain Sardan and Guntari are dead. Patrick joined the Gillies, but Mr. Niles jammed open their submersible port. We're in, Sam! Sam?"
Continuing to back up the stairs, Marlon heard Stajner climbing up.
"People are dying, Sam!" Marlon said quietly. "Come with me. Mr. Niles will do anything to get what he wants."
"Who are you talking to, Sam?" asked Stajner. "Everyone's out here."
Suddenly, Sam grasped Marlon's wrist, and Marlon was too shocked at first to shake her loose.
"It's Marlon!" she cried. "Marlon's alive! Help me! He's trying to sabotage the operation again!"
A few steps above her, Marlon planted his foot on her shoulder and shoved. She lost her grip and fell into Stajner. When Marlon turned to escape, he instead dodged a sweeping knife from above by Rob the cook. Since there was no way to fight Rob, who was armed and had the higher ground, Marlon lunged after Sam and Stajner as they tumbled down the steep steps to the deck below. He leaped beyond them as they tried to cling to him, their screams for help drawing others.
