Piranha

“I’m fine,” Juan said, disgusted, “but Bazin got away.”

“With the thesis?”

“Half of it.” He showed Eric the ripped document.

“I can start translating that on the plane. Hopefully, it’s still enough to figure out what Kensit has been working on.”

“Let’s get back to the airport before we have the entire Berlin police department asking us questions.”

Eric drove away as the wail of sirens echoed off the buildings.

Martinique

“The sub is one hundred feet from the bow of the Roraima,” Linda said, reading the scan from the passive sonar.

“What about our divers?”

“All recovered in the moon pool,” Hali said. “MacD said he spotted what could have been a corner of the metal photo tin, but his air was exhausted before he could dig it up.”

“What about grabbing it with Little Geek?”

“He said Little Geek won’t fit where he saw it. It was a corner he had to reach his arm into. He said he told Eddie where it was when he passed them on the way up.” The full face masks they were wearing let them communicate up close underwater.

“Where are Eddie and Linc now?” Max asked Murph, who was still operating Little Geek.

“Camera shows them inside the portable underwater habitat,” Murph said. “They should be out of the sub’s view.” The PUH was an inflatable fabric dome that was anchored to the Roraima and contained an air bubble inside to allow the divers who were wearing regulators to rest, converse about the dive, or even get a drink of water.

Max knew curiosity about why they were down there was killing Murph, but he was glad Murph understood enough not to ask questions when he shouldn’t.

The front of the sub was about to pass over the disintegrating Roraima twenty feet above its prow. Max couldn’t wait any longer. It was the closest the sub would get to the Oregon before they started dumping the barrels of explosives.

“Linda, get ready to send a single ping.”

All eyes whipsawed to Max. Linda was shocked by the command. “But Eddie and Linc—”

“Will be safe inside the PUH”—I hope, he thought, but didn’t say. “It’s the only thing I could think of to save the hostages. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you all before, but if our security has in fact been compromised, I didn’t want any eavesdroppers to know what I was pla

Linda nodded her understanding and raised her finger over the button that would activate a sonar ping.

Passive sonar detects submarines underwater using the noise generated by the sub itself. Active sonar sends out sound signals that bounce back to give a picture of the object, much like the clicks dolphins use to find fish. Dolphins are also thought to employ these clicking sounds to stun fish. At 220 decibels, their echolocation emanations are among the loudest noises emitted by any animal.

The active ping of the Oregon’s sonar registered at 240 decibels. If a diver were unlucky enough to be swimming next to the transmitter when a ping was sent, his internal organs would be jellied, killing him instantly. The sub was three hundred yards away, so the ping would only stun the divers, as if they had been hit by a flashbang grenade. Eddie and Linc would be protected inside the PUH because their lungs and ears would be above the water level and the sound pressure would be lessened by its transition from water to air. The hostages would be safe for the same reason. Eddie and Linc would have a few minutes to attack the dazed divers on the sub.

That was the plan anyway.

The sub was cruising slowly, likely to make it easier to drop the barrels in a regular pattern along the length of the Roraima.

“Linda,” Max said, “send our surprise.”

The deafening ping blasted forth, audible even in the op center.

“I hope you got the message, guys,” he said under his breath.

—

Eddie and Linc had been discussing why Max was being so cryptic when the ping hit the dome’s fabric so hard that it temporarily caved in. The sound inside the PUH was loud enough to make their ears ring. Eddie couldn’t imagine how loud it would have been in the water.

“That must be the cue Max was talking about,” Linc said.

They quickly do

They ducked under the surface and emerged from the PUH to see the white sub gliding fifty feet above them. Through the Roraima’s remaining intact girders, Eddie could make out the silhouette of a scuba diver thrashing from the effects of the sonar disruption.

An object was tumbling down toward them. It looked unsettlingly like a depth charge, which meant it had to be one of the barrels that Max had mentioned. It crashed into a rusted girder, which collapsed and sent a pile of metal down with it. The tangle of steel landed on the barrel. It was only twenty feet from the location where MacD said he had spotted the object he thought might be the corner of the tin holding the photographic plates they were looking for.

There was no time to search for it now. Their priority was to eliminate the threat from the divers holding the sub passengers hostage. Eddie and Linc pumped their legs to intercept their targets before they regained their senses.

Linc angled away toward the port side of the sub while Eddie swam straight toward the scuba diver, who was still holding his hands to his ears. Blood tinged the water from the man’s ruptured eardrums. He saw Eddie swimming toward him and fumbled with a small speargun that dangled from his wrist, but Eddie shot two bolts into his chest before he could fire. More blood, and the body went limp.

Eddie kicked for the sub, where he saw another barrel teetering over the edge of the stern platform. He caught the bottom of it with his shoulder and pushed it back up before it could fall.

The diver next to the barrel, who had been struggling to wrestle it over the side in his diminished state, was shocked by Eddie’s sudden appearance. He reeled backward and managed to get his finger on the trigger of his speargun just as Eddie’s bolt lanced through his mask. His spear fired harmlessly into the pontoon.

Eddie checked the diver and saw that his mask was outfitted with a bone-conduction communications device. Even with a ruptured eardrum, the man would still be able to hear a signal transmitted from another diver. Eddie had to assume all of the divers were similarly equipped.

He turned and spotted a third diver by the bow. The diver was paying no attention to him but was instead fumbling with a device in his hands. The light from the sub’s interior illuminated him enough for Eddie to see that it was a shaped charge of plastic explosives.

The diver must have gotten the message that they were under attack and was attempting to destroy the sub.

Eddie dolphin-kicked toward him, the SPP-1 outstretched. He fired at thirty feet, but the bolt clanged against the sub’s hull. He dropped the pistol and whipped the spare from his belt. He fired all four bolts in rapid succession, hoping one would hit before the diver could trigger the bomb.