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Authors: Alex Archer

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BOOK: Cradle of Solitude
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27

With a nod to her, Garin slipped out of the opening, located the dive line and, using it as a guide, headed for the surface. Annja moved as if to follow but then stopped for a moment before leaving the wreck, wanting to be certain that the bag containing the artifact was tied securely to her dive belt. She didn't want the river current to tear it free while she was surfacing.

Satisfied, she turned to follow Garin, only to hesitate at the exit, a sense of unease stealing over her. She couldn't put her finger on precisely what it was, but she had that sinking feeling in her gut, that tingling at the edge of her spine that sometimes warned her when something was about to go very wrong.

She'd learned to trust her instincts and listen to that feeling.

She extended her arm outside the wreck and waved her spotlight about, looking for she didn't know what.

The beam of light could only cut through the water for a short distance before the murk swallowed it up.
Still, she thought she saw something swimming through the dark waters at the edge of the light's reach.

That's just Garin, she tried to reassure herself.

She pulled the spotlight back inside, turned it up to its most powerful setting and flashed it back in the same direction.

This time there was nothing there.

Satisfied, she clipped the light to her belt and leaned out of the opening, her hand groping for the dive line that she intended to follow to the surface. A dark shape rushed forward out of the murky water to her left. She saw it and flinched backward, her body reacting to the threat before her conscious mind had processed exactly what it was. She caught sight of a scaly hide and a flash of teeth before the alligator's powerful jaws slammed shut just inches from her face.

Half a second later the creature was gone, lost once more in the murk.

Heart pounding, Annja backed away from the opening. She knew that contrary to popular belief, alligators actually had excellent eyesight and, being natural predators, were attracted to movement. She was hoping that the creature would just continue on and leave her alone if she didn't give it any reason to come after her.

She called forth her sword and felt a little less anxious when her hand closed around the hilt. Unlike a firearm, a melee weapon like her sword would work pretty effectively underwater, provided she stuck with actions that didn't generate a lot of resistance. Great slashing strokes were out of the question, but she could stab with it easily enough. Armed, her chances improved almost a hundredfold. Most alligators avoided human contact as much as possible, and the larger the creatures, the
more shy they were. The average alligator was about twelve feet in length, she knew, which put the one she'd just seen well in the upper percentile.

That's one big lizard, she thought.

She checked her dive computer again and saw that she had another five minutes of air, plus a ten-minute safety margin. Hopefully the alligator would grow bored and wander off long before that.

But that wasn't to be.

Even as she thought about it being gone, the gator swam back into view. It cut through the water like a torpedo, approaching her hiding place but not intent on attacking, at least as far as she could tell. It seemed to be just swimming about, waiting for her to emerge from her little cave.

She held her breath, as if breathing might alert it to her presence somehow and continued backing up.

As she did so, she bumped into one of the cannons that had been tossed about by the hurricane. It wasn't a hard blow, by any means, but it hit her side at just the right angle to set off one of the emergency strobe lights she had hanging on her belt.

The water around her was suddenly filled with a blazing red light that pulsed outward into the darkness. It flashed over the alligator, catching its attention and causing the beast to turn back toward her.

It was facing her direction when the next pulse of light went out and the alligator reacted to it instantly, charging directly toward her.

 

B
ELIEVING
A
NNJA TO BE
right behind him, Garin headed for the surface without a backward glance. He was on limited air at this point and didn't want to stay under any longer than necessary.

The sun cut down through the murky water, and as he drew closer to the surface he could make out the dark shadow of the
Kelly May
's hull in the water above him.

To his surprise, however, he saw that she was no longer alone. Another, larger shadow loomed next to her. The second vessel was a good deal larger than the
Kelly May
and, from below it, looked as if there were only a few feet separating the two boats. Garin hesitated, hanging in the water a few feet below the surface. Warning bells were going off in the back of his mind, the other vessel's presence making him uncomfortable. He didn't know if it was the position of the boat or the fact that it was there at all, but hundreds of years of trusting his instincts told him that he needed to be careful.

He glanced down into the water below him, looking for Annja. She should have been here by now, he thought.

But there was no sign of her in the murky water beneath him.

For a moment he considered diving back down toward the wreck, but a glance at his dive computer told him that would be a bad idea. He had only a few minutes of air left; descending would leave him stranded at the bottom without enough oxygen to get back to the surface. Even if he did find Annja, he'd only be putting them both into increased danger.

His lack of air also meant he didn't have a lot of time to decide what he was going to do about the mysterious vessel above him.

He might be worried for nothing, he knew. After all, there were probably half a dozen legitimate reasons for the presence of the second vessel, from a quick coast guard inspection to a chance visit from one of Mitchell's
fellow trawler captains. He really didn't have access to enough information yet to come to a useful conclusion.

His best bet was to see about getting some.

Kicking himself into motion, he swam beneath the hulls of both boats until he was on the far side of the larger vessel. Once in position, he gently surfaced, trying to make as little noise as possible as his head and shoulders came up above the waterline. His new location gave him a good look at the other boat. Unlike the
Kelly May,
this one would never be confused as anything but a pleasure craft. Where the
Kelly May
looked weathered and used, the newcomer practically gleamed, from its showroom-bright white paint to its newly polished brass sparkling in the sunlight. Garin could see it had at least two decks above the waterline and those were topped by a floating bridge for fly-fishing. From the size of her, Garin guessed she ran on a crew of four, minimum.

Thankfully, none of them were in sight.

He could hear voices coming from the far side of the boat where the
Kelly May
was anchored, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. The voices sounded angry, however, which only served to reinforce his sense of caution.

Garin swam over to the side of the boat where an aluminum ladder descended from the deck down to the waterline. Grasping the nearest rung in both hands, he quickly climbed to the deck above. He didn't want the scuba tank he wore to hinder his movements as he skulked about the boat, so he unbuckled his harness and quietly lowered the tank to the deck. He removed his flippers, too.

A quick glance told him he was still alone. Satisfied
that he could move with stealth, he set out to discover just what was going on.

He crept forward, keeping his back to the wall and his head below the level of the windows. He could see a staircase ahead of him, leading to the decks above, so he made his way over to it and ascended as quickly and as quietly as he could. He passed the door to the second deck without stopping, headed for the sun deck above. At the top he peeked over the edge, looking for signs of the crew.

The deck appeared to be empty.

The voices were louder now and a few short sharp sentences were followed by the unmistakable sound of a fist striking bare flesh. Whoever they were, they weren't there to make friends, it seemed.

Still not having seen anyone, Garin took a chance to swiftly cross the deck, threading his way through the lounge chairs until he reached the far side.

Crouched down next to the railing, he cautiously raised his head to get a look at what was happening on board the
Kelly May
below him.

He could see Jimmy Mitchell kneeling in the middle of the deck with his hands in the air, his face battered and swollen. A large thug in a dark jacket and jeans stood looming over him, no doubt the source of the bruises. Two other thugs, similarly dressed, stood a few feet behind the pair. Both of them held automatic rifles in their hands.

A fourth man stood near the stern of the boat, watching the proceedings with a bored look on his face. He was better dressed than the other three and was clearly the man in charge. He glanced away from his captive, toward the dive line that stretched down into the water, and Garin got a good look at his face.

To his surprise, he recognized the man. He'd seen his face staring back at him from the photo in the file Griggs had handed him just a few days before.

Blaine Michaels, the man who currently headed the Order of the Golden Phoenix.

Garin was suddenly glad he'd opted for the cautious approach. By the way Michaels was watching the dive line, it was clear that Mitchell had told him that his two companions were in the water below.

Where was Annja?
Garin had yet to see any indication that she'd surfaced after him and that concerned him even more than the newcomers aboard the
Kelly May
. She should have done so by now. Her air supply had to be running dangerously low at this point.

It seemed Michaels knew that, as well, for he kept glancing toward the dive line, watching for movement that might signal Annja's ascendance. Garin didn't spare a second thought for Jimmy Mitchell; the man was an uncultured bore who more than likely deserved what he had coming to him.

But Annja was another story. Michaels's men had already tried to kill Annja once and Garin had no doubt that things wouldn't end well if she fell into his clutches at this point.

He had to find a way to warn her off before she surfaced.

Garin turned away from the rail with some vague plan of hustling back across the deck and returning to the water half formed in his mind. He walked right into a punch thrown by the man standing behind him.

If he'd been standing, the blow would have hit him in the stomach, but because he was crouched over, it caught him on the chin. The force of the blow knocked him off his feet and sent him sprawling to the deck.

Even with his head spinning from the unexpected blow, Garin kept enough of his wits about him to sense the other man moving in to finish the job. As he drew closer, Garin spun around in a half circle and lashed out with his legs, striking his assailant behind the ankles and sweeping him off his feet.

No sooner had the other man hit the deck than Garin swarmed atop him, covering him with his body to keep the other man from getting back up and locking his hands around his throat to prevent him from shouting a warning.

The newcomer wasn't going to go down without a fight, though. He grabbed Garin's hands in his own, trying to pull them off his throat. Rather than wasting more of his energy and air when that didn't immediately work, he switched tactics, pounding at the sides of Garin's body with his big fists, alternating those strikes with attempts to land a good solid cross on Garin's face.

Garin, however, was in excellent physical condition and he simply ignored the body strikes, knowing it would be a while before the other man did enough damage to trouble him. He tucked his head between his outstretched arms to keep it from being hit by a wayward blow and tightened his grip on the other's man's neck, hoping to choke his assailant into unconsciousness as quickly as possible.

As the seconds ticked past, and the other man refused to weaken, Garin's frustration grew. He had no choice but to end this as quickly as possible.

When the solution occurred to him, he cursed himself for not thinking of it immediately.

As his attacker's flailing continued, Garin reared back and then thrust his head forward, slamming the
crown of his skull into the other man's forehead with an audible crack.

It was like turning off a light switch. One moment the man was bucking and struggling away beneath him, the next he lay still, knocked into unconsciousness by the force of the blow.

Garin climbed off the other man, intent on making his escape, only to be brought up short by the cold touch of a gun barrel against the side of his head.

“Ne se déplacent pas.”

Don't move.

Garin put his hands in the air, surrendering.

28

Annja fumbled at her belt with her free hand, trying to free the device, but it was no use. It had gotten stuck somehow and wouldn't come free. She gave it one more tug as the alligator closed the distance between them and then she had no choice but to take hold of her sword in both hands as the beast was upon her.

It thrust its snout forward, jaws open wide, ready to snap them shut on her tender flesh, but Annja was no longer where she had been a second before. At the last moment she turned to her left, evading the snap of the gator's massive jaws and stabbing with her sword.

She felt the tip of her blade bite into the creature's flesh as it rushed past, blood spilling into the water.

While she might have drawn first blood, the alligator didn't come out completely behind in the exchange. As it swept past, one of its legs lashed out, clawing Annja across the ribs and adding some of her blood to the mix.

She didn't have time to worry about it, because if she didn't do something quickly she'd be gator lunch.

Everything flashed around her in a strange liquid
dance, the gator's motions seeming oddly disjointed in the flashing light of the strobe. The creature rushed past her, slamming into the opposite bulkhead thanks to the momentum of its charge. As it righted itself it lashed out with its powerful tail, sending a stack of three cannons tumbling downward to the floor. For a moment, it was trapped behind a debris pile of its own making.

Annja saw her chance. While the alligator was thrashing about, trying to right itself in the narrow space, she turned and threw herself toward the opening, trying to get clear of the wreckage while ignoring the pain in her side at the same time.

For a split second she thought about making a run for the surface. If she could get up to the boat before it freed itself…

But then reason reasserted itself.

If the alligator caught her in the open water, she'd be dead.

And chances were, injured and exhausted as she was, it
would
catch her.

So rather than trying to make a run for it, she turned around as soon as she was clear of the opening and positioned herself atop the overhang that covered it, legs braced shoulder-width apart and the sword held point downward in her two hands.

I'm only going to get one shot….

Having already tasted the sharpness of her blade, the alligator was more cautious leaving the wreck than it had been when entering, which was exactly what Annja was counting on.

It stuck its snout out of the opening first, testing the water.

That was the target Annja had been waiting for. The moment the alligator's snout came into view, Annja
stepped off the ledge, thrusting her sword downward with all her might as she fell.

The resistance of the water delayed her blow slightly, but she'd anticipated that and planned for it. Thanks to the delay, rather than passing through the top of the creature's snout, which only would have enraged it more, her sword pierced the beast's skull a few inches behind its eyes as her weight settled fully atop the beast.

It reacted instantly, throwing itself around like a bucking bronco, but Annja wrapped her legs around the creature's neck and held on to the sword with all her might, still pushing downward.

Blood spilled into the water, obscuring them both, but Annja didn't care. She was too focused on driving that sword deeper and was holding on with her legs for dear life.

There was a moment of resistance and then the blade slid all the way home, the guard on the hilt coming to rest against the reptile's bony hide.

Beneath her, the alligator finally went still.

Annja held on, waiting, wanting to be sure before she let go, but when it hadn't moved for several long moments she finally released her death grip on both the sword and the alligator.

The sword vanished back into the otherwhere, as if it had never been, leaving only Annja's blood-covered form and the sinking body of a dead alligator as evidence that it had existed at all.

Annja tried to draw in a deep breath from her regulator and got only a thin mouthful of air.

Uh-oh.

A glance at her air gauge told her she was well into the red. She had only moments of air left.

Trying to keep from panicking, Annja hung in the
water for a moment, watching her air bubbles. All the gator's thrashing had disoriented her and she needed to determine which way was up before she started swimming. She didn't want to head off in the wrong direction and make things worse.

When she saw the direction the air bubbles were rising, she began swimming frantically in the same direction.

She almost made it, too.

She was only ten feet from the surface when her air tank ran completely dry.

Annja didn't let that stop her, though. She spit the regulator from her mouth and kicked harder, pushing herself up toward the light shining down from above.

She broke the surface of the water and sucked in a great, life-giving breath of fresh air.

That was when she noticed the man standing on the stern of the
Kelly May,
pointing the muzzle of the automatic rifle at her.

BOOK: Cradle of Solitude
4.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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