Medusa

Zavala’s instinct to spar went back to his boxing days in college, and he gave Phelps a minimal answer.

“Kurt was on Pohnpei, last I knew.”

Phelps twitched his nose.

“Hope Kurt stays out of Chang’s sights,” he said. “He’s been gu

“Don’t worry about it, Phelps. Kurt can take care of himself.” Then Zavala asked, “How much time do we have before your boss arrives?”

“He’s probably just about landing on that freighter he uses as a base,” Phelps said. “Ship looks like a rust bucket, but she’ll outrun most her size. There’s even a moon pool for the lab’s shuttle. He’ll use the shuttle to get down in the crater. I’m supposed to make sure everything’s okay with the airlock. That maniac will be here in under an hour. We won’t have a lot of wiggle room once he’s on board.”

“Where’s the staff when they’re not working in the lab?” Zavala asked.

“They’re confined to quarters,” Mitchell said. “They’re kept under pretty tight guard, thanks to Mr. Phelps here.”

“Just doing my job,” Phelps said.

“How do you undo your job?” Zavala asked.

“I’ll try my best, Joe, but it won’t be easy.”

“Don’t worry,” Zavala said, “there will be lots of opportunities here to redeem yourself. For a start, do you have any idea how we can get the staff away from the lab?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Phelps said. “We can use the minisubs under the transit hub. They’ll each take four people. We’ve got fifteen scientists down here plus the cargo-shuttle pilot.”

Zavala forgot his throbbing head in his eagerness to go on the offensive.

“You and I can go out the way we came in,” he said. “We’ve got to neutralize those guys on the Typhoon. How many will we have to deal with on the sub?”

“The Triad triplets like to do things in threes,” Phelps said. “Something to do with lucky numbers. They got three squads of three on the sub, which makes nine, minus the two that came down here with us. They’re all armed and meaner than rattle-snakes.”

“They’ve had it easy up until now,” said Zavala, “so they’ve lost their edge and won’t be expecting anything. They won’t have a chance.”

Phelps let out a deep chuckle.

“Like Chesty Puller said when they told him he was surrounded: ‘They won’t get away this time.’ ”

“That’s right,” Zavala said. His mind raced ahead. “Okay, we get the people on the minisubs and they leave the lab . . . Where do they go?”

“Through the big tu

“We’ve got to get to the staff and let them know what’s up,” Zavala said.

“I can do it,” Lois Mitchell said. “The guards are used to seeing me around the lab.”

Phelps glanced at his watch.

“That will have to wait until I get back. I’ve got to get things ready for Chang’s arrival. Why don’t you two get to know each other better?”

“Ladies first,” Zavala said after Phelps had closed the door behind him.

Mitchell gave Zavala a brief overview of her work with Dr. Kane and the medusa project, going back to Bonefish Key.

“You’re to be congratulated for the success of the project,” he said.

“I never dreamed it would come to this,” she said. “And you, Mr. Zavala, how did you come to be in this awful place?”

“I’m an engineer with NUMA. My boss, Kurt Austin, and I were asked by the Navy to help search for the lab. So here I am.”

He was surprised when Lois Mitchell didn’t question him further. She seemed distracted, with a far-off look in her eyes that said her thoughts were elsewhere. He had the feeling that she was holding something back. But then she blinked and focused behind Zavala.

“What was that?” she asked.

He turned and saw only the schools of curious fish caught in the light from the office interior.

“Did you see something?” he asked.

“I thought I saw somebody swimming.” She smiled. “Sorry, I’ve been down here too long. Probably a big fish.”

The incident seemed to bring her back to reality. Joe’s charm and soft-spoken ma

Mitchell stiffened when she heard the name.

“He’s no doctor,” she said, “he’s a monster!”

“Maybe it’s time you showed Joe the video,” Phelps suggested.

Mitchell was stone-faced as she took a key on a chain hung from around her neck and unlocked a drawer in her desk She reached in and pulled out a box holding a number of CD-ROM discs. She picked out one labeled COMPUTER PROGRAM BACKUP. Her fingers trembled as she slipped the disc into her computer and turned the monitor around so that it was facing the two men. The disc’s narrator spoke Chinese.

“No subtitles?” Zavala asked.

“You won’t need them once this thing gets going,” Phelps said. “I’ve seen it before.”

“Wu is Chang’s creature,” Mitchell said. “His job is to check on our progress. When he’s here, he kicks me out of my office. Luckily, he doesn’t like being on the lab.

“I found this disc in the computer after his last visit. He must have been reviewing its contents. I made a copy, then left the disc in the computer. He eventually realized he had left the disc behind and sent one of his thugs to retrieve it.”

A picture had come up on the screen. The camera showed Wu talking to a man in a suit, then switched to a view of some people lying in beds encased in transparent cylinders. Figures in protective suits moved among the cylinders. The camera zoomed in to show close-ups of the people in them. Some appeared to be asleep or possibly dead. Others had faces mottled with mahogany splotches and contorted in agony.

“Is this a hospital?” Zavala asked.

“Far from it,” Mitchell said in a tense voice. “That’s Dr. Wu narrating. From what I can determine, the video was shot at a lab in China where they were experimenting with vaccines the Triad created. I don’t know the man in the suit. They used human subjects, and of course they had to infect their subjects with the virus. You can see the results on the screen. He’s worse than that Nazi Mengele, the concentration-camp doctor.”

“Dr. Mitchell showed me this stuff a while ago,” Phelps said. “Now you see why I’ve come over to your side.”

A rage began to build in Zavala’s chest, and when the video had ended he said, “Someone is going to pay for this.”

“Fu

Three heads turned simultaneously. And three pairs of eyes widened at the sight of Austin, who stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He held his Bowen loosely in his left hand.

Zavala stared at his friend. He wasn’t totally surprised to see him: Austin had a way of popping up when you least expected him. But Austin’s wet suit was covered with blood and jellyfish slime.

“You look like you’ve been wrestling in raspberry Jell-O,” Zavala said. “Are you okay?”

“My right arm is feeling a little useless right now, but the blood isn’t mine. On the way here, I stopped in a room with a big round tank. A guy jumped me, and we were waltzing around when some of the smaller tanks in the room broke and spilled their insides all over the floor.”

“The small tanks contained organisms in various stages of mutation,” Mitchell said. “You’re lucky the big tank didn’t break. Those creatures were the final mutant phase, the one used to make the vaccine. Each tentacle contains thousands of nematocysts, tiny harpoons that inject the toxin into prey.”

“My apologies for the damage, but it couldn’t be helped,” Austin said. He introduced himself to Lois Mitchell. “When I saw you from outside the dome, I thought that only Joe Zavala could find a lovely woman at the bottom of the ocean.”