Deep Down (Sam Stone Book 1)

Deep Down is a work of fiction.  Characters, names, incidents, and places are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally, with much creative license. Any resemblance to actual locations, places, events or persons, either still living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2015 by Janean Worth

All rights reserved.  . Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying, recording, xerography or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author, Janean Worth and the publisher, Author’s Art,
www.authorsart.com

Title page photograph by
Lorado
(iStock)

Cover design by Janean Worth

Books by Janean Worth

Guarding Kami

Mind Mods Series

Mind Mods

Infected

Brain Bots

Narrow Gate Series

After the Fall (short story)

The Narrow Gate

For my remarkable, and very brave, husband, without which this book would not be possible.  Thank you for helping me step outside my comfort zone and be brave too.

Also for my very wonderful proofreader, you know who you are, who never fails to find enthusiasm for (and all of the errors in) my novels.  Thank you for all of your hard work and dedication!

Hugo Mack discarded the miner’s coveralls he’d donned while posing as an employee of the Sareyville Salt Company, broke open the sterile packaging containing the auto-injector pen that he’d been given and then unceremoniously stabbed himself in the leg with it, injecting the contents into the bulky muscles in his right thigh.  The serum burned through his leg like fire, entering his blood stream quickly and burning along his veins all the way to his brain.   He drew in a gasping wheeze in surprise at the severity of the pain.  He hadn’t expected it to burn.  His employer had told him nothing about that unpleasant side effect.  Hugo breathed deeply and the burning sensation quickly passed, leaving behind only a pleasantly warm tingle that stretched throughout his entire body, chasing away the slight chill in the air that came from being deep under ground.

A little irritated that his employer hadn’t cautioned him about the burning fire that had spread through his body so quickly, Hugo made a mental note to raise the price of the job slightly as compensation for the serum’s initial unpleasantness.  He’d agreed to kill people, not become a lab rat himself.  A little danger came with every job, and for this one in particular, but Hugo didn’t like needles, and he didn’t particularly like his employer either, so he felt justified in demanding a few extra thousand for his troubles.

Hugo dug in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone then activated the stopwatch feature, avidly watching the softly glowing screen in the surrounding darkness as it counted up to two minutes.  The instructions had been clear.  He must wait two full minutes after injecting himself with the serum before completing his next task.  Otherwise, the serum would not protect him from the toxic substance that he was about to unleash.

The stopwatch app passed the two-minute mark, but Hugo waited another full minute before closing the app and pocketing his phone, just to be safe.

Before approached the bank of metal lockers that stood before him in the dark cavern that had been carved from salt and rock, he grabbed the thick, rubber-coated gloves that his employer had provided him with, donned the protective rubber apron and plastic face shield that had come with the gloves, and then snatched up his own large claw-foot hammer that he’d brought along from his garage. He had used guns on his jobs before, many times.  A few times he’d used a knife.  But, he’d never been hired to kill people using a hammer before.  The thought made him chuckle quietly in the dark. 

Before he began, he adjusted the miner’s light upon his forehead, taking care to avoid the new, fresh tattoo that ran in thick black lines from his hairline to his jaw along the left side of his face.  He’d gotten the tattoo to celebrate the job he was doing now.  When it was complete, he’d have hit a new record.  He’d have over two hundred kills under his belt.  The new tattoo represented the completion of a long-term goal.

He positioned the light so that it shined exactly straight ahead of him into the gloom, smirking again a little as he did so.  He’d never thought he’d
ever
have occasion to wear a miner’s light.  He idly wondered if any other hit man in the history of the world had ever had to use a miner’s light during the course of a job before.  He shrugged at the fanciful thought.
Probably not.

Stepping forward, he pried open the metal front panel of the locker labeled C-1249 with the claw on the hammer.  Inside, as promised, the space was filled with ten neatly stacked cylindrical aluminum containers, all precisely labeled with brightly colored decals proclaiming the toxic nature of their contents. The cylinders were almost completely covered with images of skulls with crossbones, bright yellow hazard triangles and large red ‘DANGER’ ovals.

Hugo ignored the warning decals and raised the claw-footed hammer over the nearest cylinder.  Then he paused, wondering… Would the serum provided by his employer truly protect him from the toxic mess he was about to release?    Did he trust the man that much?

The hammer grew heavy in his hand as he contemplated the answer.  No, he didn’t trust the man with his life, but Hugo
had
been very clear what would happen if he should happen to die down in the mines with the others.  So, he may not trust the
man
, but he
did
trust that his employer would do anything to ensure that Hugo’s failsafe, his package of dirty secrets that had been obtained before Hugo had accepted the job, would remain hidden.  The damning evidence of those secrets, photos and photocopied images of hidden documents, had been loaded into a program and set on a schedule that would disseminate the information digitally across a host of social media websites if Hugo didn’t return in time to cancel the uploads.  If Hugo were to die unexpectedly that night, or in the following forty-eight hours, his employer’s secrets would be exposed for the world to see.   Hugo knew that his employer would never do to anything to jeopardize his own good standing, so keeping Hugo safe had become a priority as soon as Hugo had told the man about the files.

Reassured now of his own safety, Hugo raised the hammer a little higher and then brought it down hard on the flanged collar of the cylinder, smashing into the soft aluminum with powerful force. The canister depressurized with a soft hiss as the metal bent and buckled. Hugo used the hammer’s claw to pry open the top a bit more so that the thick black sludge inside could ooze out as he tipped the canister onto its side.

He quickly repeated the process with the other nine canisters, giving only a fleeting thought to the hundred or so innocent people that would die that night because of his actions.  When he was done, he stepped back and tossed the blackened hammer aside.   He ripped the annoying rubber apron from his chest and then quickly divested himself of the remaining protective gear, throwing the black-spattered plastic and rubber on top of the discarded hammer.

Smiling in satisfaction, he turned away from the quickly spreading ooze of black sludge and strode out of the darkened cavern, his miner’s light bobbing brightly with every step, happy with the knowledge that he’d just earned himself a cool half million dollars.

Corporate espionage, with a large side of murder, certainly paid well.

Jenny Strafford tried to calm her racing heart, but it pounded in her throat like the beat of a drum.   She reminded herself several times that this was supposed to be a fun outing – a double date with two of her fiancé’s friends and their family.

The friends, Gilbert and Debbie, had called her fiancé the day before, offering a rare chance at a spot for a dinner theater, held in the underground salt museum in their hometown of Hawkington, Kansas.  Jenny had never met either of them, but her fiancé had insisted that the offer of an outing had been too good to pass up, since most of the dinner theater performances were only for select patrons of the museum.

That was how Jenny now found herself in the museum’s modest waiting room, a hard hat clutched in her sweating fingers, awaiting their group’s turn to ride the powered lift down to the museum, which resided 640 feet below ground level in an area of tunnels that had been excavated and used as a working salt mine until just recently when it had been partially converted into the museum.

Jenny shivered in cold dread and reached out to grasp her fiancé’s warm fingers, wondering what had possibly possessed her to agree to this outing.  She did not like enclosed spaces, or the thought of being trapped and unable to exit any place when she wished.   By going deep underground in the lift, she was effectively trapping herself underground until the museum’s lift operator could bring her back to the surface.  And the lifts ran only at scheduled times, worked by the experienced operator to avoid death or injury to the occupants of the lift - or so the tour guide had said during the mandatory safety lecture that they’d all attended.  

Entrusting her very life into the hands of a stranger was not something that Jenny did easily.   Without her fiancé’s comforting presence at her side, she would never have even considered it.  But, the outing had seemed to represent an adventure to him, and she didn’t want to disappoint him, knowing that he wouldn’t attend without her.  Besides, she’d just finished her latest project, a glossy photo book detailing the intricate work of handcrafting wire jewelry, and she was ready to begin another book project in the next month or so.  Perhaps a visit to the underground salt museum would provide a bit of inspiration?

It had been two long weeks since she and her fiancé, Stone, had been able to spend any significant time together.  Their last ‘date’ had been a week-long trip to Fort Lauderdale, Florida.  It had been a wonderful vacation, and they’d both soaked up the sun, enjoyed fishing, surfing and lying on the beach together, and in general, just had the time of their lives.  But, since then, they’d seen very little of each other.  Stone’s new job running his own security consultant business had been requiring him to be out of town often now, and she’d let the rote of daily life and the deadline to finish the book consume her schedule.   Jenny knew that it would do them both good to go out with friends, wishing only that the dinner theater had been held above ground.

Stone squeezed her fingers reassuringly, then reached over to take the hard hat from the shaking fingers of her other hand.  He perched it upon her head and squashed it down over her riot of dark curls, grinning at what she was sure was a very ridiculous look for her.  Hard hats were
not
her style, but the tour guide had insisted that each visitor must wear one at all times while underground, citing various rules and regulation. Personally, Jenny thought this was a foolish and silly rule.  A hard hat was not going to protect her if the mine caved in.  Nothing would, short of a miracle.  At the thought, another shiver of dread skated up her spine.

If Jenny were truthful, she remembered little of the list of rules that the guide had spouted, since at the time of the instruction, her mind had been caught up in a litany of fear and dread, much as it was now as they waited for their turn on the lift.

“It’ll be
fine,
” Stone said, giving her a wink.  “You’ll see.  You’ll have fun.”

Jenny smiled brightly at him, ignoring the dread that pooled in her stomach, “Sure, can’t wait.”

By the look on his face, Stone knew that she was lying, but he said nothing, just giving her another grin.   He was always telling her that she was a terrible liar, and that anyone could read the expression on her face and immediately know what she was thinking.  At that moment, Jenny hoped it wasn’t true, because that would mean that both Gilbert and Debbie, was well as Stone and the other visitors clustered around them, would all know that she was utterly terrified.

Jenny swallowed hard, focusing on Stone’s beautiful brown eyes and the strength of his fingers as he took her hand again. 

You can do this!
she coached herself, but she doubted even her own inner voice.  This seemed to be a very bad idea, and she couldn’t seem to convince herself that it wasn’t. 

As the lift operator called out the number of their group, letting them know that their turn was next, Jenny took a long breath and then patted her pocket, assuring herself that her inhaler was there, safe and sound, and within easy reach to rescue her should she have an asthma attack while down in the mines.  

Satisfied that the inhaler was there, she then thought longingly of her other source of protection, the .38 revolver that she’d been forced to leave in the locked box in her vehicle.  She hadn’t been out of the house without the revolver concealed inside her clothing in more than a year – ever since she’d gotten her concealed carry permit at Stone’s insistence after she’d been the victim of a close-call attack.   Museum rules did not permit concealed weapons of any type, so Jenny had been forced to leave the gun behind, and now she felt almost naked without it.  

She gripped Stone’s hand tighter, comforting herself with the thought that the tour guide had informed them of the presence of no less than five armed security guards down in the museum below. Apparently, the dinner theater performance was going to be attended by a celebrity of some renown, who’s identity had not yet been revealed to the other museum patrons, and additional security had been provided for the night’s entertainment to provide added protection for the unnamed individual. 

Reminding herself once more that this was supposed to be a
fun
outing, Jenny took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face and followed the others into the lift, listening as the iron door closed with a clank behind her, sealing them all into the small dark area.

No one had warned her that the ride down would be conducted in total darkness, and Jenny shivered in dread as the lift plummeted quickly through the blackness, taking her farther underground that she’d ever wished to venture.

For a moment, she cursed her people-pleasing tendencies – knowing she’d only agreed to accompany Stone because she’d wanted to make him happy.   Gulping back fear, she began to count the minutes until she could return to top of the lift.  Already, the air had begun to feel a bit stagnant, and they’d only just begun the ride down. Pressure gathered in her ears and pressed upon her chest. Reflexively, her fingers sought the shape of the inhaler through the faded denim of her jeans.