Page 72 of Fast Justice

Her shoulder hit something hard and metallic. She reached in front of her, blindly shot her hand out and pushed. The metal door swung open.

Grasping the edge of it, she hauled herself through the opening and kicked upward with all her strength, her eyes straining to discern some light above her. She didn’t know how long she swam, the pressure of the water on her eardrums muting everything but the slam of her heart, her limbs freezing, lungs burning.

Up, up she struggled.Oh God, please… I can’t hold it anymore. Need air.

Just when the burning in her chest became agony, when she couldn’t hold her breath for another second, the water began to lighten.

With one final desperate burst of strength, she aimed for the surface and kicked for all she was worth.

****

Christ, the container was in the water and sinking fast.

“Get us down there,” Mal snarled, staring in horror as the rust-red container slipped beneath the surface. He didn’t know how deep the water was here, but if it was deep enough to allow container ships in and out, then anyone locked inside that metal box didn’t have a chance.

The helo dove lower, each second that ticked past its own separate eternity. Mal chucked his gear aside and kept his eyes locked on that container until he lost sight of it. He stood in the open doorway, scanning the surface. Praying that Rowan would make it out—if she was even in there.

Maka moved into place beside him, his huge shoulders filling the rest of the doorway. “We gotta get those doors open,” he shouted over the pulse of the rotors.

Mal nodded, his stomach in knots. He and Maka were totally at home in the water, but they didn’t have tanks or goggles, and every second they lost meant another second without air for the women inside that container.

“We’ll cover you guys from the air until the zodiacs I’ve called for show up,” Hamilton shouted as he appeared next to Mal. “As soon as we’re aboard we’ll pick you up.”

“Roger that,” Maka answered.

Mal stared at the surface as they descended, the rotor wash casting patterns on the water.Come on, come on…

Finally the crew chief gave them the signal.

Crossing his arms and feet, Mal jumped out feet first. He hit the water and surfaced immediately, turned to give a thumbs-up to the crew. Desperation made his heart pound. The container was already under too deep. They had literally less than a minute to get the women out in time.

Maka hit the water, surfaced and signaled the crew, then turned and swam with Mal toward where the container had gone down. Salt water sprayed their faces as the helo engines increased power and lifted. Mal kept swimming, gauging the current. The tide was going out, the water trying to pull him away from shore and out to sea.

Taking a deep breath, he bobbed up and then dove straight down, slicing through the water as he searched for the container. It was murky as hell, viz next to zero when he got a half-dozen meters down. He couldn’t see shit, let alone the container or any survivors.

He kept swimming, surfacing over two minutes later when the burn in his lungs turned critical. After another breath he dove down again, searching frantically, praying that he’d spot something.

He thought he caught a flash of movement to his three o’clock but couldn’t be sure. Surfacing, he saw Maka’s head break the surface a dozen yards away. “See anything?” he yelled.

“Got something over here.” He dove back under. Mal swam over as fast as he could and followed his teammate. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something moving beneath him.

He dove deeper, using big strokes to cut through the water. Someone was thrashing their way to the surface. Mal put on a burst of speed and grabbed for the person, hooking an arm around the waist before shooting upward.

They broke the surface a few seconds later. But the woman in his arms wasn’t Rowan. She was naked, sucked in a desperate breath and started choking, her limbs thrashing weakly.

“I’ve got you,” Mal said, turning her onto her back and hooking an arm around her torso in a rescue hold. He glanced around. Maka had resurfaced with another woman, but from the way her head lolled limply, it was already too late.

Fuck. Mal turned in the water, started towing the woman toward shore, searching around him.Rowan, Christ, please don’t be in that container…

A deafening bang from on shore made him snap his head around in time to see a plume of smoke come from the base of one of the gigantic cranes. Then the sound of rending metal screeched through the air, a long, metallic groan and another, louder thud shook the air. A tall plume of dust rose up, and the crane began to topple forward.

Mal bit back a curse and started swimming away as the huge metal skeleton came crashing down into the water, sending a huge wave of water rushing at him.

He turned the woman. “Hang on and hold your breath,” he warned, and ducked under the surface with her. He watched as the wave crashed overhead, the force buffeting them like leaves in a hurricane. The woman fought his grip, panicked. Mal kept his eye on the surface, waited until it was safe before kicking them back up.

The woman dragged in a desperate breath and started crying. Mal looked around.

One Blackhawk still circled overhead, but he wasn’t sure whether it was Hamilton’s or not. Where were the damn zodiacs?

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