“Don’t even start. I’m coming with you. No reason to let you bask in all this heroism. Not to mention, I need a share of the profits of two million barrels of crude oil more than you do.”
Sam knew Tom cared less than he did for the financial reward, but he was thankful not to be doing this on his own, none the less. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Tom pulled out a small plastic tube from his chest pocked. It was filled with some sort of clear liquid — probably water — and handed it to him. “Veyron told me to give this to you.”
“What the hell for?”
“He said if we run into any more of that glowing green plankton, we’re to take a sample. He didn’t say what for, and I didn’t ask. You’re all just as crazy as each other.”
Sam laughed.
“I’m glad he was thinking ahead.”
“You knew about this?”
“Yes. I’ll explain after we succeed.”
Chapter Sixty One
Sam dropped into the water. Negatively buoyant, he sank to ten feet within seconds, and then started the Sea Scooter. Its twin jet propulsion system firing up, he drove it diagonally downwards to thirty feet.
He set a bearing of 340 degrees northeast, towards the damaged super tanker. “You ready Tom?”
“I’m right behind you,” Tom replied. He spoke his words slowly and with a calm certainty. “I’ll follow you.”
“Okay, here we go then.”
Sam pulled back with his right handed throttle. The Sea Scooter rapidly picked up its pace as the twin jet propulsion systems reached their peak velocity. Above him the surface darkened as though they had just been swamped by a dark storm cloud. Only this one had a strange orange glow and the occasional blue bursts of intensely heated flame.
“There goes our ability to surface,” Tom said. Then, a moment later, as though he were mentioning the weather forecast, he said, “From here on in, we might as well be on an extended cave dive.”
Sam checked the speedometer at the center of the Sea Scooter. It read 40 miles per hour. No small feat for a SCUBA diver holding onto twin underwater jets. “I’m not worried about having to surface. It’s what’s below the surface and inside that ship that I’m concerned about.”
In front of him, the mammoth hull of the supertanker came into full view. Sam could hear Tom’s reassuring voice over the radio. “At least you won’t have to wait too long to see how much you need to worry about that.”
Sam stopped approximately fifty feet away and looked up at the monster. “No, that’s one benefit I suppose.”
Tom stopped just next to him. At the front of each of their Sea Scooters a SONAR transducer focused on the hull. Mounted on the heads up display above the Sea Scooter’s own instrument panels was a visual representation of the water movement and materials up ahead. It included the basic shape and outline of the ship’s hull structure.
The hull was riddled with fractures and openings.
In front of Sam, the screen showed the movement of liquid flowing into the hull as blue markings with arrows pointed upwards. Where it flowed outwards the computer displayed it as red. “Look for one of the larger ones flowing inwards. I figure any outwards flow is oil and inwards is seawater.”
Next to him, Tom studied the flow of water. There was only one major oil leak, but several gaping holes with seawater flowing in. He pointed to the nearest one. “How about that one?”
Sam studied it for a moment. “Think someone your size will fit?”
The gaping steel wound to the hull of the Mississippi was no more than four feet in diameter. On the left edge a small section jutted out like the side of an opened tin can. It wasn’t the largest entry point they could see — probably only the third, but by far the closest to the oil leak, and where they needed to get to in order to activate the safety systems.
“I’ll squeeze through.”
“Okay, we’ll aim for that one.” Sam looked at Tom. At six foot five inches tall and 220 pounds of muscle, his shoulders barely looked like they’d squeeze through. It would be like threading a needle at high speed. “Just remember, there’s going to one hell of a pressure build up through that point. Like the drain in a bath tub, all the surrounding seawater will be competing to enter. If you strike an edge of the hull, you’ll be dead before you realize your mistake.”
Tom grinned. “Then I’d better not make a mistake.”
The sort of statement, made by any other person, and Sam would have mistaken it for overconfidence and stupidity. But with Tom, it was simply the byproduct of a lifetime of diving.
“All right, let’s do this.”
The water near the razor sharp gash spun as it approached the opening in a torrent of powerful seawater.
Sam opened the throttle. And his Sea Scooter came to life. Driving him rapidly towards the open wound in the hull.
Chapter Sixty Two
The Sea Scooter pulled in a multitude of directions while Sam fought to keep it on track with the opening. The currents were powerful and kept trying to send him of course. It pulled him slightly to the left, making him drive towards the hull and not the opening.
He cut out the electric throttle.
He was drifting sideways towards the opening. At seven feet to the gash he opened the throttle to maximum and the Sea Scooter sped in through the tiny hole.
Like threading a needle.
Inside the seawater turned and spun in powerful eddies, trying to consume the empty hull. Bubbles frothed to the surface, as the water competed against the air inside for space. Sam slowly surfaced. His head popped above the water.
The room was entirely dark with the exception of Sam’s shoulder-mounted LED. He cracked an orange military-grade glow stick and the entire room lit up. Sam quickly studied the room. The ceiling was thirty feet above him, and he judged the water was another twenty below. It was narrow, maybe only ten feet wide. Probably a safety compartment between the oil tanks. Some safety compartment — the water tight doors were still intact.
The gas inside the compartment was warm. Enough to make breathing uncomfortable, but not yet lethal. That was, if it was air. Sam had already been informed that each compartment of the Mississippi’s lower decks had been pumped with inert gas to reduce the risk of combustion. Oil itself is very difficult to ignite, but its hydrocarbon vapors are explosive when mixed with air in certain concentrations. Consequently, Sam brought enough air supply to last until he was off the supertanker.
“Okay, Tom — your turn.”
“Well done Sam. Now, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
The water inside the hull had risen so that Sam could step onto a steel grate that formed the platform for a series of ladders. He swam to the side of it and stood up. Above he looked for the large red handle used for the manual releases that controlled the fixed deck foam system and solidifying system.
He spotted them almost immediately.
They were situated directly above him. Three separate ladders were all that separated him from reaching them. It would be an easy climb. He didn’t wait for Tom. If those fires reached the main oil compartment, the ship could still be blown to pieces. He was worried about Tom entering the hole in the ship. Its edges were sharp like the edge of an open can. One mistake, and Tom would be dead. There was nothing he could do about it if something went wrong.
And so he concentrated on climbing.
Hand over hand, Sam took two rungs at a time. He breathed deeper while he worked and the ambient temperature rose dramatically the closer he got to the ceiling. He’d seen the flames from above more than twenty minutes earlier — Sam knew the deck above him was well alight with flame. And oil fueled flames burn extremely hot.