Читать книгу Beyond the Barrier Reef - Christopher Cummings - Страница 10

Chapter 3

TRAINING TELLS

So severe was the panic attack that Andrew found he was gasping and shaking. Fear pulsed through him and he began to pray.

He is a cruel looking mongrel, he thought as he stared up into the third diver’s hard face.

The third diver then looked at the other divers and snarled, “Get zem up! Get zem aboard!”

Andrew noted that the man had a distinct foreign accent, but his attention was diverted by several painful muscle spasms that wracked him, causing him to suck in his breath and to grit his teeth until they passed.

The third diver scrambled up the port side ladder onto the deck, pushed past the man with the SMG and then vanished aboard the game fishing boat. The second diver took his place on the dive platform. First, he placed his speargun flat on the deck over to port. Next, he took off his helmet and then dragged off his fins and tossed them up onto the deck. His weight belt followed. Then he scrambled up onto the stern of the launch and began taking off his BCD and air tank. The man with the SMG moved further forward to make room for him.

Then the first diver, the one in the rubber boat, called loudly, “Come on girl, get out!”

Andrew glanced and saw that the first diver had also taken off his helmet and his BCD and air tank and was aiming his reloaded speargun at Ella. To add ghoulish horror to the scene Tristan’s lower legs and fins just showed above the inflatable sides and the sight sent a shiver of fear through Andrew.

It was obviously horror and shock that afflicted Ella as she could hardly haul herself up onto the dive platform. Then she just stood there, trembling violently and with the water dribbling and dripping off her and onto Andrew’s face. The second diver, who had by now removed his BCD and air tank and picked up his speargun, shouted angrily at Dan, “Help her up you! Grab that air tank.”

Dan, looking stunned and shaken, did as he was told. As he leaned down to grab hold of Ella’s air tank Andrew noted that his face was bruised and bleeding. He has been bashed, he thought.

Ella was hauled up the starboard ladder onto the stern of the dive boat and Dan then helped her to take off her BCD and air tank. These were handed forward to a worried looking Mr Craig who stowed them on the racks that were set up on the centre line of the dive boat. Her weight belt was taken off and passed to Mr Craig as well. Ella then hunched and tried to cover herself with her arms. She looked blue with the cold and was shivering violently.

Andrew looked at her curvy body in the skimpy bikini and the thought crossed his mind that she might regret having not worn a wetsuit. I hope those men aren’t interested in her as a girl, he thought. Ella moved to stand between Mr Craig and Dan on the starboard side of the deck.

The heat of the sun now began to fog up Andrew’s face mask. Anxious to see as well as he could he reached up with his right hand and took out the regulator, then tugged at the face mask, pulling it down around his neck. As he did so he uttered a mental rebuke when he remembered what he had been taught on his diver’s courses.

I should have pulled the mask up onto my forehead, he thought, the signal that the diver was in distress. Around the neck was the normal place for it to be. But it was done now and so he did not change it.

Carmen pulled her own face mask down around her neck and leaned over. “Are you alright Andrew?” she queried anxiously.

Andrew nodded and groaned a yes, still unsure of how serious his wound might be. The second diver interrupted, leaning over and gesturing to get up.

“Get up on deck!” he snarled.

Carmen kept a tight grip on Andrew while she hauled herself up onto the dive platform. In the process Andrew’s head went lower and he felt water wash around his ears, but he managed to keep his face clear of it. Carmen then turned and reached down to lift Andrew. As she lifted him sharp darts of pain shot down his leg when the spear struck against the dive platform.

“Aargh! Ah!” he gasped. “The spear. Turn me over.”

Carmen stopped lifting and looked to see what the problem was.

“Sorry,” she said. “Dan, help me please.”

Andrew was gently rolled over while most of his body was still in the water and he then tried to use his hands to help her. Dan scrambled down the starboard ladder and took hold of his air tank and BCD and helped to lift. After a short struggle Andrew got his knees up onto the dive platform but when he bent forward the spear sent more stabs of pain through him, causing him to groan and cry out. As always he was astonished at how heavy all the gear felt when it was out of the water.

For a few seconds Carmen stopped trying to lift but then the second diver snarled at her to get on with it and Andrew was hoisted to an upright position. Shaking and shocked Andrew stood there, gripping the starboard ladder. This put his eye just above deck level. Close in front of him were the bare feet of the second diver and beyond them the boots of the man with the SMG.

Ella and Mr Craig were ordered to help by the second diver and they moved to bend down and grab his arms and equipment. “Face down,” Andrew managed to croak, fearing more pain from the spear. He knew it was stuck sideways somehow and did not want to suffer more agony. They heaved him up and lay him flat on the deck with his feet still sticking out over the stern. Andrew swivelled his head to the left to watch the men.

Carmen now climbed up, passing up her fins first and then her weight belt before clambering up over Andrew. She was helped to remove her BCD and air tank and it was placed in the rack by Mr Craig.

I wish someone would take off my air tank, Andrew thought as the weight off it on his back was pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. But he could not seem to open his mouth except to suck in air. So he just lay there, gasping and groaning while something else went on down behind him on the dive platform.

The third diver now re-appeared, leaping athletically from one boat to the other. To Andrew’s dismay he now also carried a submachine gun. It was a tiny thing and Andrew vaguely identified it as possibly a Czech Skorpion.

The third man now stood right at the stern facing the prisoners. But he spoke to the other men first and from his tone of voice Andrew had no doubt he was ‘The Boss’. “Vich vone of you shoot zer man?” he demanded to know.

“Me, Mr Ivanoff,” answered the first diver from just behind Andrew.

“Vy?”

“He was undoing the net.”

A look of fury crossed Mr Ivanoff’s face and for a second Andrew thought he might be about to shoot Diver No. 1. “You blutty fool! Vot for ve need zer dead body to dispose off? You are zer idiot Barry.”

“But the sub is due in an hour,” Barry answered, truculence in his voice.

“Silence you idiot! Zey not need to know zat!” Mr Ivanoff snarled. “Now you giff us zer even bigger problem.”

“Sorry Mr Ivanoff,” replied Barry. This time his voice was tinged with anxiety.

Andrew’s mind raced as it tried to grapple with the surprising information. Sub? he thought. Does he mean a submarine? He was sure the men were criminals and now he suspected they were smugglers.

Mr Ivanoff now faced the prisoners. “You are zer university research group yes?”

“Yes,” Mr Craig answered. “Who are you?”

“Ve zer questions ask,” Mr Ivanoff snarled. “Now, how you come to be diving here? Who tell you to come here?”

Mr Craig answered that. It took several minutes of questioning for the details of the research expedition to be described. During this Andrew lay on the deck enduring waves of throbbing pain and wondering if he should interrupt to ask for medical help. But fear held his tongue. Might be better not to attract attention to myself, he decided.

Mr Ivanoff listened and looked very thoughtful then said, “So you here come just to study zer seaveed?”

“Yes,” Mr Craig answered.

“Ven are you due back?”

“Next Friday, five days’ time,” Mr Craig answered.

Mr Ivanoff tugged at his chin. “So who do you report to? How often zer radio reports?”

For a moment nobody answered and Mr Ivanoff’s eyes narrowed. He aimed the small SMG at Dan. “You talk or zis vone he die.”

“You are bluffing,” Mr Craig retorted, “Now let us go and get off my boat.”

Before Andrew could open his mouth to warn Mr Craig Mr Ivanoff moved. He jerked the SMG to the left and pulled the trigger.

Brrrrt!

There were gasps of fear and horror and Andrew twitched and jerked with fright. He swivelled his head just in time to see Mr Craig fold in the middle and go crashing to the deck, his hands clutching at his stomach. Blood began pouring onto the deck planks. Ella screamed and began to sob hysterically.

Mr Ivanoff shouted angrily, “Shut zer bitch up or I shut her up permanently.”

Andrew was stunned and appalled at the brutality and unreality of it all. This isn’t true, he tried to tell himself. It can’t be!

Through what seemed like a fog of fear and pain he heard Dan speak to Ella and then heard a sharp slap. Carmen spoke loudly, “Be quiet Ella or you will be next.”

Ella shut up as abruptly as a door being slammed. But she kept sniffling and sobbing. Mr Ivanoff hissed menacingly. “Now you know ve zer business mean. So, answer zer question. Vot is your radio skedule?”

Dan answered in a quavering voice. “Once a day, at thirteen hundred hours. It is all written in the radio log in the wheelhouse.”

“Good! Now who is zer radio operator?”

Carmen spoke this time. “Andrew and I are, now that you have shot Mr Craig.”

“Who is Andrew?”

“My brother,” Carmen answered, indicating Andrew.

Andrew looked up and met Mr Ivanoff’s eyes. The look he received in return sent chills of apprehension through him. Mr Ivanoff sneered. “So, if you can do it ve don’t need him. Barry, get rid of him.”

Carmen gasped and then screamed, “No! If you harm him I won’t do anything for you.”

Mr Ivanoff curled his lip. “If you not zen ve hurt zis girl here, and ve kill zis other vone.”

At that the man with the beard and SMG gave an evil chuckle and said, “I will soon teach her to co-operate Mr Ivanoff. She’s a real good looker. I reckon she will be a lot of fun to tame.”

Andrew heard this with disgust and revulsion but that was overlain by his own rising terror as the import of Ivanoff’s words sank in.

He is going to kill me! he thought.

But what to do? For a few seconds he contemplated making a desperate effort to attack the men but the searing memory of what had just happened to Mr Craig held him still.

They will just shoot me and I will never get up with all this weight on me, he reasoned.

Before he could react, Andrew was grabbed by the second diver. The man tried to turn him over. Mr Ivanoff snapped, “Vot are you doing Viktor?”

“Getting all this diving gear off him Mr Ivanoff. No need to waste that,” Viktor replied.

“OK, make it quick,” Mr Ivanoff agreed.

Once again Viktor tried to roll Andrew over. But the steel shaft of the spear dug into the deck and wrenched at Andrew’s body. Pain lanced through him and he cried in agony. Viktor swore and dropped Andrew back on the deck, his face hitting hard enough to make his nose go numb. Andrew felt Viktor doing something on his back.

“What’s the problem?” Barry asked from close behind Andrew.

“The spear,” Viktor replied.

Mr Ivanoff spoke next. “Vot are you doing Viktor?”

“Taking off the air tank,” Viktor replied.

There were several sharp tugs and Andrew was pushed to and fro as Viktor unscrewed his air hoses from the BCD. Then the air tank was lifted clear and he was able to suck in a breath. But Mr Ivanoff’s next words choked off the tiny spurt of relief he felt.

“Leave zer veight belt on him Viktor. Zat vill help him stay down. But take out zat spear. If anyone find zer body ve don’t vant zat sort of evidence.”

Andrew was shocked and appalled. I am going to be drowned! his terrified mind screamed. But how to escape that fate? His mind raced with possible options but all he could think of was to stay still so that they did not knock him out. If I can get the belt off once I am in the water I might be able to get back to the surface, he thought. How to then survive the men with guns and boats was another problem.

A sudden stinging stab of pain made him gasp with shock and he actually did slump into semi-consciousness as the spear was pulled out. Part of Andrew’s mind told him what had happened. The spear had been a standard fish spear with a folding barb on the tip. It could not be pulled back out the way it went in so Barry must have dragged it right through.

Luckily there was no line attached, he thought, shaking almost uncontrollably as the reaction hit him.

With Carmen’s angry protests ringing in his ears Andrew felt himself being dragged backwards off the deck. For a split second he considered struggling but then he decided it was better tactics to make it easy for them. As he realized that he was about to fall onto the dive platform he tensed.

This is going to hurt, he thought.

Suddenly Andrew found he was flying through the air, terror swamping him and Carmen’s scream sounding loud in his ears. To his own surprise he only just tipped the edge of the dive platform with his right hand. He had enough of his wits about him to see that the first diver—Barry—was standing on the platform and that the rubber boat was now tied to the starboard bracket of the platform.

Splash! Instantly the water enfolded Andrew and he began sinking. Don’t panic! Don’t panic! he told himself, but the fear was so overwhelming all he could do was squirm and try to release the weight belt.

Already the pressure was building but he was not worried about that because in a free dive it equalized. He opened his eyes to work out which way was up so that he could use his fins to try to stop himself going too deep.

I must get back up to the surface to breathe, he thought.

Suddenly something slid over his arm and he winced and his heart leapt and hammered. What was that? he thought notions of sharks and other sea creatures coming to his mind. Desperately he looked around. Then he felt the thing again and his eyes focussed as well as they could without a face mask.

It was a rope. The shot line for controlled ascents, Andrew realized.

Instantly he reached out and grabbed the rope. He came to a jerking standstill and looked frantically up. What he was looking for was the spare air tank that was attached at ten metres to the shot line. If a diver coming up from a deep dive needed more time to decompress his nitrogen, he had a reserve of air handy and avoid getting the bends.

And there it was, a dark blob against the rippling light of the surface. It looked a small thing and a long way above him but Andrew knew it was his only chance.

I must reach it or die, he told himself.

Already he was having trouble holding his breath and was running out of oxygen. Frantic to survive he began hauling himself up the line hand over hand.

Dark dots began to dance in his already blurred vision. Pain began to build in his chest and face and he could feel his lungs straining. The desperate need to breathe built up until he could only resist it from an equally strong determination to live. Having nearly been drowned several times Andrew knew he had only seconds left before he had to take that fatal gulp of water.

And there was the air tank. His hands grabbed at it and he began groping around it for the regulators. There are two of the bloody things! Where is one? his desperate mind cried. And now the urge to breathe was so strong he was starting to convulse while he resisted it. He knew that if he took even one gulp of water he was finished. If he did he would cough and choke and never be able to use the compressed air.

Then his fingers closed on a regulator and he whipped it up to his face, fumbled for a moment to turn it the right way, then shoved it into his mouth. Now the training told and he held one side valve and purged water through the other to clear the mouthpiece. For a heartbeat he wondered if it would work or not but he knew he had no choice. Either he tried it or he died.

I will never make it to the surface now, he thought. So he nerved himself and sucked.

Air! Andrew almost sighed with relief. Blessed air! He took another breath and then steadied himself, clinging to the rope as he did. For several more seconds he just hung there, gulping air and trying to get a grip on his thoughts and emotions. I’m still alive! he marvelled.

Andrew consciously tried to calm his breathing. Think man, think! You are still alive but how are you going to get away from here? he asked himself. That made him look up and he saw the dark shapes of the two boats lying side by side only ten metres above him. Then he noticed something else and his heart seemed to stop.

My bubbles are going straight up. If those mongrels see them they will be straight down to get me, he thought.

It occurred to Andrew that the crooks had not been aware of the shot line which had the spare air tanks. Such an arrangement was standard practice in both the marine research and diving industries but was probably not something groups of criminals might do.

I have to get away from here, he thought.

Then he realized he still had all the key elements he needed for safe diving: his BCD, his mask and his fins. Even my weight belt will help, he told himself, knowing it was hard to stay down without one.

Now all that unpleasant training that had caused him such anxiety suddenly made sense and paid off. Within half a minute he had pulled his face mask into position and then cleared it by blowing air through his nose while holding the top of the mask firm against his forehead.

Being able to see properly made a huge difference and Andrew again looked up, watching anxiously as the bubbles from his breathing rose in a steady stream towards the stern of the launch.

I have to get away from here, he thought. But could he somehow get the air tank off the shot line?

Once again training told. A few seconds of study and all his knowledge of knots from years of being a Navy Cadet told him it was easy. The air tank was secured by a simple loop of the slip type used in straining hitches and then passed through the shot line and around the gauges. Gripping the air tank with one hand he finned up the shot line until he was well above the knot, which then hung loose. Then he held the line tight between his feet, one foot under the other to tighten the rope between instep and the top of the other foot. That took all the strain off the knot and he was able to use both hands to ease the loop loose and then slip the air tank out. By a smooth tug he allowed the knot to slip out.

That will make them wonder if there was any air tank or not, Andrew thought with another anxious glance up.

But even as he looked up he saw a dark clad figure splash into the water beside the launch and his heart leapt into his mouth.

Oh bloody hell! Here they come! he thought.