Devil's Purgatory

 

Mariana Trench

 

Captain Prokovich paused at the double doors, where the heavy bass notes of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana  resounded into the corridor.  He rubbed the sweat from his palms and ran his fingers through the spikes of his red crew cut.  Without bothering to knock, he entered Benedict's stateroom.

Benedict was lying back in a black suede couch, eyes closed, enveloped by the brooding music.  Sensing another presence, he opened his eyes and, using the remote, turned down the sound.

"Your men have finished?"

"Da."

Benedict noticed the sullen expression on his captain's face.  "You're troubled by our losses."

"It was preventable.  We took risks—"

"There is risk in all things great."

"Perhaps we should slow down and better prepare ourselves for these creatures."

"Vladislav, slowing down is a luxury we cannot afford.  If we hesitate to complete our mission, ITER will complete it for us.  Misfortune puts men to the test.  Would you prefer the deaths of our comrades to have been in vain?"

"No."

"Then let us finish the task at hand."

Prokovich led him to the docking bay, which had been hastily drained and cleansed.  Benedict smelled traces of ammonia.

Professor Kwan was inspecting several dozen buckets filled with manganese nodules.

He turned to Benedict, smiling.  "Our test results were positive.  You have found the gift of Prometheus himself."

"How much is here?"

"Enough to supply power to every industrial nation for the next several years."

"Benedict shook his head.  "It's not enough.  We need to acquire the rest before the Americans discover our secret and seal off the area."

"How?" Prokovich asked, pulling nervously at his eye patch.  "The creatures are still circling.  They won't leave the area with so much of our crew's blood in the water."

Benedict gave him a reassuring look.  "As we speak, an array of high-powered lights are being mounted along the hull of the Prometheus, lights that will keep the pliosaurs at bay.  As an additional precautionary measure, the Benthos  will ascend to a position only fifty meters above the hydrothermal layer where the creatures dare not venture.  From now on, we'll escort the Prometheus  on her way to the seafloor, then back again to the cold layer as she transports the manganese nodules to the Goliath."

"Aye, sir.  And the girl?"

Benedict smiled.  "Now that we've located the nodules, she's no longer needed.  She'll be dead before the day is out."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Terry sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the cabin door, now bolted from the outside, preventing her escape.  Every few minutes a wave of panic would rush over her, forcing her to pace back and forth frantically until the nervous energy dissipated and she'd again collapse onto the mattress, waiting for her jailer to take her to the execution.

Benedict locked me in for a reason.  His mind games are over.  He's ready to kill me.

Desperate, she grabbed the desk chair and smashed it repeatedly against the locked door until the furniture broke apart in her hands.  She tried the door again and saw the knob had loosened.  Encouraged, she searched the cabin for something to pry open the lock.

Terry grabbed the wood desk and flung it over, hoping to break off one of its legs.  That's when she noticed the ventilation grill.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Captain Prokovich and his crew stared nervously at the row of closed-circuit monitors whose gray-and-white images revealed the undercarriage of the Benthos.

Running the length of the monolith's flat undercarriage was a myriad of pressurized tanks resembling rows of giant pontoons.  Half of these containers controlled the ship's ballast by drawing in seawater, allowing the positively buoyant Benthos  to sink.  The other half held gasoline, which, being lighter than water, helped maintain neutral buoyancy.

There three Kronosaurs continued to circle the undercarriage of the Benthos, apparently excited by the taste of blood.  The sound of the ship's powerful hydraulic rams forcing seawater from numerous catches along the lower levels had caught the creatures' attention.  The predators' attention was now focused on the giant pontoons.  To their nocturnal eyes, the containers resembled the size and shape of the Epimetheus, a life-form that had proven a bountiful source of food.  As the Benthos  rose away from the seafloor, the predators began biting into the titanium containers.

Benedict entered the bridge.  "Report, Captain."

"We've got a new problem."  Prokovich pointed to the monitors.  "The creatures have begun attacking the ballast tanks."

"The containers are too thick, even for these monsters."

"Agreed, sir, however it is possible for them to cause an indentation along the surface of the cylinder.  If this should happen, the extreme pressures could gain a foothold, increasing compressive stresses."

"And the tank would rupture."

"Aye, sir.  We've suffered no damages as of yet, but the creatures appear to be getting bolder."

"Twelve hundred feet to hydrothermal ceiling," a crewman called out.

Benedict watched in fascination as an enormous flat head appeared in one of the monitors.  With an incredible burst of speed, the animal slammed into one of the gasoline tanks, attempting to tear it from the flat cowling undercarriage of the ship.

The sound of metal being forcefully bent could be heard by crewmen working on G deck.

Within seconds the enormous pressure of the Trench exposed the cylinder's flaw.  The damaged tank ruptured and imploded, setting off a rapid chain reaction that jolted the Benthos sideways.  Lights flickered off, and the mother ship was immersed in darkness.

Moments later, red emergency lights blazed on as the monolith's backup system powered on.

Prokovich picked himself up from the floor.  The Benthos had stopped rising and was now listing ten degrees to port.  "Damage report—"

"Sir, ballast tanks B-four through B-eight are gone.  We're also losing gasoline from tanks G-five, G-eight, and G-nine."

Another explosion and concussion rocked the Benthos.  For a long moment the crew stared wide-eyed at Benedict, uncertain of what would happen next.

Then, as if Mother Nature herself had commanded its return, the great ship began falling back to the seafloor.

 

Western Pacific

 

The helicopter soared over the deep-blue Pacific, Mac searching the ocean for the decommissioned Soviet warship.  "There she is," he said, pointing to a gray shape on the horizon.  Jonas eyed the Goliath through his binoculars before passing them back to Harry Moon.  "You sure Celeste's on board?"

"We're sure," Harry said.  "Once she found out the location of the Devil's Purgatory, she hightailed it off the William Beebe.  She never had any interest in recapturing your shark, she only wanted your information."

"And how will you know when Benedict's actually located these nodules?" Mac asked.

"We'll know the moment he begins shuttling his two submersibles between the Trench and the Goliath.  Our objective is to get Terry and our agent off the ship without arousing suspicion.  Once Benedict's completed the mining job, the Navy will move in."

Jonas felt a knot in his stomach.  "What makes you so sure they'll release Terry?"

"She knows nothing about their operation," Harry said, "and Benedict will want to keep it that way.  The William Beebe 's right behind us.  The last thing Benedict wants is a bunch of civilians hanging around the Goliath while billions of dollars' worth of manganese nodules are being loaded on board.  When Celeste realizes that we're not leaving without Terry, she'll have her brought topside before the William Beebe arrives."

"And what if my wife has already figured out what's really going on in the Trench?"

Harry shook his head.  "Let's just pray that she hasn't."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Mac set the chopper down on the foredeck next to another helicopter.  One of the Goliath's crew waited until the overhead rotors slowed before greeting the unwelcome guests.

"Please come with me," said a crewman in a somber tone.

As they followed him aft, Jonas could see men working on an enormous white, cigar-shaped submersible situated on a hydraulic platform in the stern.  Two arrays of underwater lights were being mounted along either side of the sub's hull.

Jonas noticed the ship's name painted in red across the keel.  Prometheus.  He recalled the name from a course on Greek mythology taken long ago as an undergraduate at Penn State.  Prometheus was the Titan god who had stolen the sun's power, giving it to humans to survive.

Benedict's ego's showing . . .

Jonas recognized the frail figure standing by the starboard rail.

"Masao—"

He felt his heart tighten as his father-in-law turned to him, teary-eyed.

"I'm sorry—"

"Masao—what happened?  Tell me!"

"Terry's dead," he rasped, his almond eyes swollen from crying.

Jonas felt his legs weaken as a shock ran through his gut.  Mac and Harry grabbed him.

"What happened?" Mac whispered.

"One of the submersibles imploded," Masao said, choking on the words.  "Terry was on board.  All hands died."

Jonas felt himself losing control.  "Masao, who told you this?"

"I saw it, Jonas.  I saw it with my own eyes."  Masao placed a trembling hand on his son-in-law's arm, leading him into the Goliath.  A reception area had been set up in one of the rec rooms.  A television and VCR sat on one of the tables.

Jonas watched black-and-white taped footage taken from a camera mounted in the control room of the Benthos 's docking chamber.  He was the conning tower of the Epimetheus rise through the floor of the flooded chamber.  Moments later, the water receded, the sub's crew emerging.

"There's Terry," Masao pointed.

Jonas felt his heart pounding in his ears at the sight of his wife running across the room and off the screen, reappearing in view a moment later.  A momentous explosion—the camera shaking violently—as the chamber flooded, killing everyone instantly.

Through tears Jonas stared at the swirl of bodies dancing on the monitor.  "Where's Terry?  I don't see her."

"She's there," Celeste said, entering from the corridor.  "Jonas—I'm so sorry."

Jonas turned to face her, his muscles trembling in rage.  "What caused this?  How did it happen?"

"The Benthos  was attacked by a pack of monsters."

"Megalodons?  You're lying.  Megs don't hunt in packs."

"Not Megs.  Benedict called them Kronosaurs."

"Kronosaurs?"  He slumped into a chair, the blood draining from his face.  "My God . . ."

"The Benthos is stranded on the bottom.  We're rigging powerful underwater lights to the hull of the Prometheus to keep the creatures away while we rescue the remaining crew."

"I'm going with you," Jonas said.

"Regrettably impossible.  There's absolutely no room.  We have to pick up Benedict and a dozen of his crew."

"I'm going down," he repeated, pocketing the videotape from the VCR.  "I need to see her."

Celeste grabbed his wrist, leading him back out on deck to the keel of the Prometheus.  "See those scratches and indentations in the hull?  Those are teeth marks, Jonas, teeth marks made by the Kronosaurs.  One of them tore apart the screw and nearly destroyed this vessel.  Do you think I'm lying?"

"I need to see her body for myself!"

"You're upset.  Come inside and—"

"Don't fucking touch me.  Masao, I didn't see her—"

Masao made eye contact with his son-in-law.  "Jonas, come with us, please—"

He allowed Mac and Harry to lead him back to the helicopter.

"Jonas, listen to me, darling," Celeste called back.  "There are no bodies.  The abyss swallowed the remains."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Terry wedged another coin into the groove of the third bolt.  Gritting her teeth, she strained to turn the screw, ignoring the pain coming from her swollen fingertips.

After several tries, the bolt loosened.

Not bothering with the last screw, Terry bent open the hanging ventilation cover and peered inside.

The aluminum shaft appeared to run parallel to the corridor, connecting each cabin with the deck's ventilation system.  The duct itself was only eighteen inches square.  She saw a reflection of light coming from the next cabin down, the grid a good fifteen feet to her left.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed her arms and head through first, then exhaled, forcing her shoulders into the cramped space.

Within seconds she became pinned, her shoulders wedged in too tightly against the shaft's narrow walls.  Rolling painfully onto her back, she placed her arms across her chest and rounded her shoulders, freeing up enough space to pull her legs inside.

Arching her lower back, Terry used her feet to push her body through the shaft, waddling through headfirst until she reached the next ventilation cover.  She looked in through the grid, finding the cabin empty, but could not gain enough leverage with her arms to feet the bolted cover.  Squirming farther down the shaft, she rolled onto her side, lined up her feet and began kicking.

It took several minutes of perspiring labor before the cover gave way.  She pushed her feet through the opening, then inched her way in backward, contorting her upper body as she pulled herself into the deserted cabin.

Terry had felt the explosions and the impact of the Benthos as it had landed hard on the seafloor.  She suspected the ship was stranded.  That meant their only chance for rescue was the Prometheus.

She remembered the closed-circuit surveillance cameras positioned around the ship.  Escaping from her cabin was one thing, making her way to the docking station without being spotted by cameras or crew was something else entirely.

Terry noticed a white lab coat and hard hat hanging in the closet.  A wild idea came to her.  She ran into the bathroom and scrubbed the makeup from her face with soap and water.  Using the male occupant's shaving razor, she cut off a lock of her hair, then searched the sink for something sticky.

Toothpaste!

With her finger she smeared a light coating of toothpaste on her face, outlining sideburns and a mustache.  Slicing the lock of hair into smaller pieces, she fashioned her disguise, praying the toothpaste would hold.

It did.

Terry undressed, changing quickly into the man's shirt, pants and a pair of rubber work boots.  Tying her hair in a tight bun, she positioned the hard hat, then put on the lab coat.

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, touching up the facial hair.

Up close, the disguise was useless.  But from a surveillance camera . . . it just might work, or at least buy her some time.

Heart pounding, she opened the cabin door and stepped into the empty corridor, trying her best not to walk like a woman.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

The William Beebe  arrived several hours after the Prometheus had begun its descent into the Devil's Purgatory.  Back on board the research vessel, Jonas remained alone in his cabin, replaying the video of the implosion over and over, pausing each time where the camera jumped.

Mac entered with a bottle of Jack Daniel's.

"Where's Masao?" Jonas asked.

"The doctor gave him a sedative."  Mac shook his head as his friend rewound the tape.  "Stop torturing yourself."

Jonas pushed PLAY, then reduced the speed.  "Watch carefully."

Humoring his friend, Mac watched the monitor.  He saw Terry move out of camera range, then reappear.

Jonas pointed.  "There.  See how the tape jumps!"

Mac moved closer, kneeling before the screen.  "Rewind that again."

They watched the scene once more, the image jumping just before the implosion.

"Motherfuckers," Mac said, "they edited the tape."

"Terry's alive."

Mac looked into Jonas's eyes.  "I'll rig the AG-2 to dive."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Descending to a position fifty meters above the ceiling of the hydrothermal layer, the captain of the Prometheus  activated his sub's new array of underwater lights.

Celeste stared out her porthole as the powerful beams illuminated a fast-moving current of muddied water swirling beneath the sub.

"Fantastic," she whispered as the Prometheus plowed through the abyssal clouds to enter the Devil's Purgatory.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Benedict stood by the observation window, watching the blazing star approach.  So bright were the sub's lights that life-forms living along the bottom seemed to shrivel back into the seafloor as the vessel passed overhead.

Benedict turned as Captain Prokovich climbed up from the bridge.

"You see, Vlad, our plan is working.  The three Kronosaurs will not venture toward the light."

"Aye, sir.  What are your orders?"

"Have the manganese nodules loaded on board the Prometheus the moment she docks.  Then inform Celeste that I wish to see her on the observation deck.  Oh, and have the girl brought to the hangar for disposal."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas stood on deck in his wetsuit, inspecting the Abyss Glider-2  as the crew hooked it up to its winch.  Situated on its dry mount, the one-man deep-sea submersible looked more like a jet fighter than a sub.  Built for speed, its hydrodynamic design and lightweight construction allowed it to fly through the sea like a manta ray.  Although the Prometheus would arrive in the Trench first, the AG-2 would complete its descent in one-fifth the time it took the Geo-Tech sub.

The ten-foot-long craft was composed of two hulls.  An outer casing made of Kevlar and reinforced aluminum covered the midwings, twin thrusters, and tail assembly.  Within this hull was the LEXAN escape pod, the cockpit of the sub.  In the event of an emergency, the pilot could jettison the clear pod from its heavier exterior casing and float topside.

Harry Moon and Mac joined him as he finished his inspection.

"Jonas, what are these two smaller housings beneath your thrusters?" asked Mac, pointing to the tail assembly.  "The other sub didn't have them."

"The AG-One uses a rocketlike hydrogen booster for quick bursts of speed.  To achieve the same effect in thirty-five thousand feet of water, we had to redesign the entire tail assembly.  These housings hold two auxiliary propellers, which are powered by a liquid hydrogen and oxygen fuel.  This sub's capable of short bursts of speed that would make a torpedo jealous.  Came in handy four years ago."

"Maybe this will come in handy too," Harry said, passing Jonas his .44-calibre pistol.

"You think that's necessary?"

"You're not dealing with Boy Scouts down there.  Mac told me about the videotape.  If your wife is still alive, Benedict won't keep her that way for long.  The weapon's got a full clip.  My advice is to shoot to kill and sort out the bodies later.  Good luck."

Jonas looked into Mac's eyes.  "This is really happening, isn't it?"

"Yeah."  Mac averted his gaze.

"Mac—I  . . . I just want to thank you, you know, for always being there—"

"Shut the fuck up.  Just go down and get your wife.  I expect to see the two of you back herein time for dinner."

Jonas gave him a bear hug.

Masao was standing by the open rear hatch of the sub.  He took Jonas's trembling hands in his own, squeezing them tightly.  "Jonas, you know I love you as much as I loved my own son.  I know how difficult this is for you."

"She's alive, Masao, but that bastard will kill her unless I stop him."

"Then listen to me carefully.  True courage is doing the thing you fear doing most.  There can be no courage unless you are scared.  But to succeed in battle, you must move beyond fear.  Find your warrior's spirit—just as you did four years ago."

"What about my dreams?"

"Use them.  Use them to prepare yourself, but don't make them your enemy.  Remember, all of the truly significant battles are waged within the self."

Masao gave him a quick embrace, then held open the rear hatch.  Jonas crawled into the AG-2, sealing himself in the interior LEXAN pod.

Lying prone, he strapped himself into the body harness, then gave a thumbs-up through the clear nose cone of the sub.  Seconds later, the AG-2 lifted away from the deck, swung over the rail, and was lowered into the sea.

The sub rolled wildly in the swells while Jonas waited impatiently for the frogmen to release the vessel from its cable.

This is really happening.  With a trembling hand, he wiped the sweat from his forehead.  The Devil's Purgatory . . . the hellhole where I cheated death eleven years ago.  It's as if the Trench has summoned me back into its depths to settle the score . . ..

A diver tapped on the nose cone, signaling the "all-clear."  Jonas gunned the engines and pushed the joystick forward, the sub descending vertically at a seventy-degree angle.

"All right, you wanted me back—well, here I am!  Just let me hold Terry in my arms one last time, then you can kill me!"

The deep blues of the Pacific melded into the shades of purple then black as Jonas Taylor guided the Abyss Glider on its spiraling descent, racing toward his destiny.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

"What do you mean, she's escaped?" Benedict asked.

"She managed to pry off the cover to the ventilation duct and crawl through to the next cabin."

Benedict smiled to himself.  His resourceful mouse had escaped her maze, a tribute to her ingenuity.  Over the years he had place nearly two dozen subjects in similar desperate, life-threatening situations.  In each case the individual had either succumbed quickly to the prospect of imminent death, or had chosen to fight until  the bitter end.  Benedict had studied his subjects' responses, painstakingly cataloging character traits and personal histories, analyzing strengths and weaknesses until he had developed a set of predictors that he now used to determine which members of his staff would function best in crisis situations.  To his surprise, Terry's actions had defied his data, her fight for self-preservation actually making her stronger as her challenges became more difficult.

Such an interesting subject.  A pity she has to die.

"Search the ship.  Use the closed-circuit cameras in my quarters.  I want her found immediately and brought to me.  She's earned my personal attention."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Terry entered G deck's corridor, taking her place in line behind a half-dozen men waiting to enter the docking station, which was now draining and depressurizing with the arrival of the Prometheus.  Leaning back against the wall, she folded her arms across her chest and kept her head low as Captain Prokovich stormed past her, two staff members in tow.

Beads of sweat dripped down her face.  She could taste toothpaste on her lips.

Stay calm . . .

The titanium door of the docking station opened.  She followed the crew into the vault.

The conning tower of the Prometheus opened.  Three men climbed out, shaking hands with the others.

Terry made for the ladder, yielding as another crew member climbed up.

Avoiding his eyes, she slapped the man on the back and descended quickly into the Prometheus.

The vessel was empty.

Terry headed for the bathroom.  She'd seal herself inside the storage locker and pray no one would look inside during the sub's five-hour ascent.

As she turned the knob, someone inside the bathroom simultaneously pulled the door back to exit.

Terry froze, startled.

Celeste looked up, eye contact unavoidable.  "Oops, sorry . . . My God—Terry?  Terry, is that you?" Celeste laughed.

Tears of frustration welled in her eyes.  "Celeste, please don't say anything.  Help me hide inside.  Please—"

"Oh, God, if only Jonas could see you now.  So, have you been taking care of Benedict for me while I was gone?"

"Celeste, please—"

"Jonas and I had a great time.  You know, I think he was actually relieved when I told him you were dead."

"What?"

"Maybe I should have told him you had a sex change."

Captain Prokovich climbed down into the sub.  "Celeste, Benedict is waiting for you on the observation—"

"Vlad, have you lost anything?" Celeste asked, pulling off Terry's hard hat.

In a blind rage Terry grabbed Celeste by the throat and threw her to the floor, pressing her thumbnails into her trachea.

Prokovich quickly intervened.  Grabbing Terry beneath her arms, he tossed her sideways through the open bathroom door.

Terry's head slammed painfully against a pipe beneath the sink.

Celeste sat up, wheezing to regain her breath.  A large reddish-purple welt ringed her neck.  Prokovich helped her to her feet.  "Are you all right?"

Celeste touched her throat, smearing away blood from a small cut.  "Lock her in the hangar, but don't harm her, understand?"  She tasted her blood.  "There's something I need to take care of.  I'll join you in the hangar in twenty minutes."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Surrounded by impenetrable darkness, Jonas quickly lost all sense of direction.  Through the cold LEXAN nose cone, he stared into oblivion, his mind racing.

Anger had replaced fear, his sense of purpose giving him courage.  He know what was waiting below, but it no longer mattered.

Only Terry mattered . . .

Jonas released the joystick to wipe sweat from his palm.

He checked his depth finder:  10,085 feet.

Not even a third of the way . . .

He pushed down on the joystick.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Celeste took a deep breath, then climbed the access-tube ladder to the observation deck.  Benedict was alone, staring into the abyss.  She sealed the hatch behind her.

"Why did you do that?" he asked.

"Just thought I'd give us some privacy."  She moved behind the bar, pouring them each a drink.

He turned to face her as she finished stirring the contents of his glass.  "What happened to your throat?"

"Terry Taylor attacked me aboard the Prometheus."  She handed him his drink.

Benedict smiled.  "Such a resourceful girl.  A shame we have to kill her."

"I'll handle it, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," he said, finishing his drink.

Celeste moved closer.  "You seem kind of melancholy.  What's wrong?"

"As Oscar Wilde once said, 'In this world, there are two tragedies.  One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.'"

She rubbed her hand along his inner thigh.  "Maybe I could put you in a better mood."

Benedict grabbed a fistful of her blond hair, pulling her close.  "I missed you."

She smiled, staring into his glimmering eyes.  "Then fuck me."  She reached under her skirt and pulled off her panties.

Panting like an animal, Benedict led her to the nearest couch, then stopped, holding the side of his head.

"Benny, what's wrong?"

"I don't know . . . a sudden attack of vertigo."

"Maybe you should lie down."

Benedict staggered forward, the room spinning around him.  He looked at Celeste as the realization dawned on him.  Staring into her eyes, his emerald gaze seemed more animal than human.  "My drink—"

"Just a little something to help you sleep."

He pushed her away, stumbling toward the sealed hatch.

Celeste grabbed the bottle of vodka and smashed it over the bald crown of his head, knocking him out.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Prokovich hastily bound Terry's wrists behind her back with a length of electrical wire, then pushed her into the hangar, sealing the door from the outside.

Staring at the closed hangar door, Terry closed her eyes, remembering Sergei's death.

"Oh, God."  She glanced around the sixty-by-thirty-foot cell, empty, save for a half-dozen UNIS robots lined up along the far wall.

Terry found herself breathing hard, her pulse pounding in her head.  She struggled to loosen her bonds, seized by the reality of what awaited her.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Benedict opened his eyes, the pain rousing him from unconsciousness.  He was seated in front of the observation window, his wrists and ankles bound tightly around the chair.  Blood seeped from the deep gash atop his head.

"Celeste?"

"Right here."  She crossed the room and stood before him, sipping a drink.

"Why?"

"Opportunity makes the thief, isn't that what you taught me?"

"Thought this out, have you?" he said weakly, blinking away trickles of blood from his eyes.

Celeste wiped the blood away.  "I'm ready.  You've prepared me well."

"Perhaps.  But our little empire has just gotten a lot larger.  You'll need my help."

"I think not.  Pardon the pun, but I'm tired of getting fucked in the ass.  This organization could stand my touch."

"It doesn't . . . it doesn't have to be like this—"

Celeste stood before him, her eyes blazing hatred.  "Looking for a little mercy, Benedict?  Funny, I don't remember you giving my mother any mercy."

"Your mother?"  Benedict's eyes widened.

"Don't try to deny it.  We both know Sergei loves to babble when he's drunk."

"How long have you known?"

"Since I was sixteen.  From that moment on, you were mine.  Every time I looked into those emerald eyes of yours, I knew I was looking at a dead man."

"Our relationship, our bond, all that I've given you over the years—none of that means anything to you?"

"Why do you think I waited this long?"

"Even after the wound has healed, the scar remains."  He shook his head.  "How disappointing to learn that, after all I've taught you, you still lack the virtues of honor and loyalty."

"Fuck you.  All of a sudden, you're the guardian of morals?"  She straddled his lap and lifted his chin, pressing the remains of the broken bottle to his throat.  "Tell me, was killing that Muscovite worth my mother's life?"

"Your mother was a whore.  I took her off the street when she was only nineteen.  I gave her a life, presented her to your father as a gift."

"A gift?"

"A beautiful gift, one with something special inside.  Your father was unable to have children, so I impregnated your mother and gave him a family."

Celeste dropped the bottle and stood, covering her mouth as she backed into the LEXAN glass.

Detecting movement, the adult male Kronosaurus circled along the perimeter.

Benedict gave Celeste a sadistic smile.  "That's right. You're my daughter."

A thousand thoughts raced through Celeste's mind at once.

"Your mother was ravishing, the most beautiful woman I had ever met.  She was also an invaluable tool, helping me to acquire secrets from your father that eventually led to Geo-Tech's procurement of the Tokamak reactor."

"Is that all she was to you—a tool?"

"No."  Benedict blinked away a steady trickle of blood.  "I loved her, but she was weak.  After your father's death she again turned to drugs.  I found I could no longer trust her with my secrets, let alone care for you.  Her last act helped me to remove a potential enemy from the Politburo, a man whose appointment would have blocked our acquisition of the Goliath."

"So you killed her?"

He stared into his daughter's eyes.  "I had restored meaning to her life years before.  When she again lost her way, I put her out of her misery.  I had something infinitely more valuable.  I had you."

"Helluva way to treat your daughter."

Benedict shook his head.  "Your beauty captivated me.  In my eyes, you were the reincarnation of your mother.  My weakness for the flesh—"

She turned to the abyss.  "I understand these monsters share that weakness."  With the remote control, she turned on the exterior lights.

Benedict saw movement along the periphery.  "Celeste, listen to me.  We could accomplish great things together.  The power of the sun is ours—"

"I'll go it alone."

"Celeste, I'm your blood.  I am what you will be, I was what you are."

"I miss my mother."

"Ultra posse nemo obligatur—don't bite off more than you can chew."

"Why, Benedict; are you begging?"

"Do you wish me to?"

"No, it's too late.  The die is cast, and I have no desire to hold a wolf by the ears."  She wiped more blood from his eyes.  "If I don't finish you off now, it could be me sitting in that chair one day."

"It appears I taught you too well."

"Must be in the genes."

The male Kronosaur banked sharply, racing toward the observation room window.

Benedict closed his eyes.  "Majori cedo—I yield to a superior.  I suppose the goal of every parent is to see the child spread her wings greater than the nest."

"Then you should be proud."

He opened his eyes and saw movement coming from the abyss.  "I think you'd better go."

Celeste turned.  Seeing the creature, she kissed Benedict full on the lips, then ran to the access tube and opened the hatch.

"Celeste?"

"Yes . . . Father?"

"I'll see you in hell."

Celeste descended the ladder quickly, resealing the hatch above her.  To her right was a keypad which activated an emergency hatch designed to seal off the observation deck from the rest of the ship.  She punched in her security code.

Above her head, hydraulics slid a three-ton titanium plate in place over the access tube hatch.

Benedict continued staring into the abyss, focusing on crimson eyes that seemed to grow.  From the pitch, a crocodilelike head appeared, its jaws opening wider.

With a thunderous detonation of glass, the creature smashed headfirst through the LEXAN window.  The unfathomable pressure instantly imploded Benedict's skull and collapsed the dome of the Benthos, crushing the Kronosaurus to death beneath more than twelve thousand tons of titanium.  A mushroom cloud of bubbles and blood and debris rose from the flattened upper level as if God himself had crushed the top of the vessel with his heel.

A high-pitched creaking reverberated throughout the ship as the hull of the Benthos fought to equalize.

"What the hell happened?" Prokovich yelled.

Celeste waited until the noise died down.  "One of the Kronosaurs struck the bay window.  Benedict's dead."

An engineer ran over to her.  "Hear that creaking sound?  The titanium plates are actually shrinking.  Stress analysts refer to it as strain.  This entire ship could lose integrity and implode at any moment."

Celeste turned to Prokovich.  "Vlad, is the Prometheus loaded?"

"Yes, but we've got another problem.  Sonar has detected an immense life-form heading in our direction.  Thirteen kilometers to the north, should arrive at our location within the next eighteen to twenty minutes.  Whatever it is, it's huge, at least seventy feet long."

Angel . . .

"How soon can we leave?"

"Ten minutes.  But that's not all.  The Goliath is reporting that Jonas Taylor is on his way down in one of the Abyss Gliders."

"Jonas?  Oh, this is too perfect.  Is Terry in the hangar?"

"Yes."

"Captain, contact the Goliath.  Have them patch a call through to Jonas via the William Beebe.  I'll take the call in the hangar control room, then meet you aboard the Prometheus in ten minutes.  Alert the crew.  We're abandoning ship."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Enveloped in darkness, Jonas stared into the swirling depths of the abyss, a cold sweat breaking out all over his body.  Foreboding gnawed at his gut, the acrid taste of fear dried his mouth.

A glow appeared, circling below.  Jonas struggled, fighting to turn the sub.

The head rose upward, jaws hyperextended, teeth bared—

Jonas blinked—staring into empty darkness.  With trembling hands, he wiped the sweat from his eyes.  "You're hallucinating," he told himself.  "Stay focused, you've got to stay focused, stay awake—"

Without warning, a deafening explosion roared in his ears, followed seconds later by a rising shock wave that tossed the tiny sub backward, flipping it nose cone over tail.

Jonas clutched his head, his ears ringing from the blast.

An implosion—had to be the Benthos.  God, no—oh, God, please —

Jonas regained control of the sub and raced for the bottom.

Several minutes passed before the ringing stopped and he could hear again.

"Jonas, come in please—"

He switched on the radio.  "Masao, that explosion—"

"We heard it too, but Celeste Singer says the Benthos  is still intact."

Thank God . . .

"She wants to speak to you.  She says it's about Terry."

"Patch it through."

After a moment of heavy static, he heard Celeste's voice.  "Jonas, can you hear me?"

"Speak."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Staring at Terry through the window of the hangar control room, Celeste switched on the external speaker, allowing her prisoner to hear the conversation.

"Jonas, there's been another accident aboard the Benthos,"  Celeste said.  "We're forced to abandon ship.  Benedict's dead.  Jonas, I've seen Terry's remains.  Darling, you don't want to look—"

"I need to see for myself."

Terry heard her husband's voice over the speaker and began screaming his name.

Celeste smiled behind the soundproof glass.  "Jonas, I know how important it is for you to be sure.  I know you want to get on with your life, and I want to help.  Listen, carefully.  Running along the lower deck of the Benthos is a large hangar.  Above the doors is a motion detector.  I'm going to set the entry system on automatic.  You'll need to do an initial pass-by to activate the system.  It takes about five minutes to flood and pressurize the chamber before the doors will open.  Once you enter, the hangar will reseal and depressurize automatically.  Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Jonas, this is a difficult time, you losing Terry, me losing Benedict, but I want you to know that I love you and I'll be there for you, when you're ready—"

Jonas switched off the radio.

Celeste activated the automatic entry system, then stepped out of the control room, locking the door from the inside.  She walked over to Terry, who was seated on the floor, hands tied behind her back.

"How does it feel to know your husband will be the one who ends up killing you?"

"Fuck you."

"Don't worry, Jonas will take care of that after you're gone.  We'll probably start a family right away—"

Terry jumped to her feet.

Celeste pushed her back down.  "Sorry, one cat fight a day is all I'm good for.  Oh, in case you were wondering, Benedict really is dead.  Don’t bother shedding any crocodile tears for him, Benedict fucked his way into hell.  Anyway, have a nice death."

Terry waited until Celeste had sealed the door behind her.  The she rolled onto her back, squeezing her legs through her bound wrists so that her arms were now out in front of her.  More determined than ever, she began tearing into the wire with her teeth, refusing to think about the hangar doors that her husband would activate within the next few minutes.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Celeste climbed down into the Prometheus, Prokovich sealing the hatch behind her.  The interior of the sub was wall to wall with men, all of whom were standing on top of buckets filled with tons of manganese nodules.

"Rig ship for dive," the sub's captain ordered.

"Aye, sir.  Seals tight, depressurizing chamber sleeves."

"Release docking clamps."

"Aye, sir, clamps released—"

The Prometheus dropped like a lead weight toward the seafloor.

"Release all weight plates!  Engine shaft, full power—"

The sub leveled out, the bow struggling to rise.

"Why the hell are we moving so slow?" Celeste asked.

"We're overloaded," the captain said.  "But as long as we're rising, we should be okay."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas switched on his exterior light, staring down into the swirling muck that isolated the hydrothermal layer from the rest of the Trench.  He surveyed the darkness, his heart pounding wildly.

Okay, Jonas, no glow means go . . .

Pushing down on the joystick, he guided the AG-2 through the current of silt.

Jonas held on as the winged sub was tossed about as if caught in a downdraft.  Moments later, the Abyss Glider punched through the torrent, entering Devil's Purgatory.

Jonas activated his sonar and located the Benthos.  As he adjusted his course, a torchlike glow began rising up from the seafloor far below and to his left.  He headed for the light, knowing it would be the Prometheus, a red dot appearing on his screen, marking the sub's position.

Two more blips appeared, startling him.  Moving much faster, the objects circled up and around to his right, remaining concealed, somewhere in the darkness.

Kronosaurs!

Barely breathing, Jonas stared hard into the abyss, seeing nothing.  The blips drew closer, the life-forms seeming to detect his presence.

One of the creatures closed in from behind, the other circled to his right.

Jonas raced for the Prometheus.

The circling Kronosaur banked sharply, cutting him off from the submersible.

Son of a bitch—they outmaneuvered me!  A tightness gripped his throat.  The Kronosaurs were to only larger and faster than his vessel, but intelligent hunters, working in tandem.

Pressing down on the joystick, Jonas descended toward the creature blocking his way, all the while focusing on the RANGE TO TARGET indicator on his console.

Three hundred feet . . .

Jonas saw a dark silhouette appear above the light beam of the Prometheus.

One hundred feet . . .

He reached for his exterior light switch.

Fifty feet . . .

Now!

Jonas hit the light, then barrel-rolled the Abyss Glider around the stunned Kronosaur.

Before he could react, the larger of the two beasts closed in from behind, then suddenly veered away, disappearing with its offspring.

The blips on his radar screen moved off toward the east.

Before he could breathe relief, another blip appeared on the screen.  Jonas felt a shiver run down his spine.  This object was different.—much larger—homing in from the south.

Jonas knew why the Kronosaurs had fled.  He stared into the pitch, his pulse racing, waiting for her glow to appear.

The Prometheus passed him on his left, the slowly ascending bulk momentarily dragging his sub in its wake.  With the blazing array of lights behind him, Jonas could now make out the lights of the Benthos glittering eight hundred feet below on the dark seafloor.

Four hundred feet to his right, Angel's menacing glow appeared, a pinpoint of light quickly growing larger.

Jonas raced for the Benthos.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

The sixty-two-thousand-pound female entered the battlefield, her senses pinpointing multiple prey.  The beast's ampullae of Lorenzini registered the heartbeat of the Kronosaurs, while its lateral line isolated the vibrations generated by the Abyss Glider's twin thrusters.

Ignoring both, Angel homed in on the largest and slowest moving of the three challengers lurking in the female's domain.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Celeste stared out of the porthole, her heart pounding as she waited for the unearthly glow to appear.

"The Meg's closing fast," reported sonar.  "One thousand feet—"

Celeste saw the glow.  'Goddamn it, Captain, do something!"

He slapped her hand away.  "Like what?  Jettison the crew?"

"Eight hundred feet—"

She turned to Prokovich.  "Vlad—"

"It's too late," he whispered.  "We're going to die—and for what?  A bunch of damn rocks."

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

The two blips reappeared.  The creatures were racing up from the seafloor, cutting Jonas off from the Benthos.

He cursed, whipping the Abyss Glider in a tight one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, ascending back toward the Prometheus.

"Oh, shit—"

He saw Angel.  She had closed on the Geo-Tech sub and was now circling, a prelude to attack.

"Jonas, can you hear me!"

Jonas hit the radio switch.  "I hear and see you, Celeste."

"Jonas, please, there're twenty people on board—can you lure your shark away—at least until we make it above the layer—"

Whomp!  The AG-2 was jolted hard to starboard.

Jonas fought to regain control, glancing at the crimson eye of the devil pressing its face against the nose cone to his left.

Jonas banked hard to starboard.

"Jonas—"

"I'm a little busy right now!"

The adult pliosaur appeared in his headlights out of nowhere.

"Fuck—"  Jonas whipped the AG-2 into an inverted three-sixty, as a monstrous set of crocodilian jaws snapped at his tail fin.

Working together, the creatures circled, keeping the AG-2 between them.  Unable to shake himself free, Jonas climbed straight up in a vertical ascent, racing to save himself within the protective lights of the Prometheus.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Celeste screamed as Angel rammed her hideous snout against the bow of the sub, tasting her prey.

The sub pitched sideways, its engines straining against the roll.

Angel circled.  The creature was inedible, but it was still an enemy.

The sonarman wiped droplets of sweat away from his screen.  "Six hundred feet to ceiling—here comes Taylor!"

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas raced toward the Prometheus, squinting against the blinding lights coming from the sub's hull.

The two Kronosaurs abruptly broke from their attack.

Momentarily relieved, Jonas continued heading for the ceiling, then banked sharply, descending in a wide arc to head back to the Benthos.

Jonas craned his neck left and right, his heart racing as he searched the void for the glow, unable to see much of anything because of the bright lights of the Prometheus.  As he soared past the Geo-Tech sub, Angel's mammoth white head appeared out of the darkness directly in front of him.  Her jaws opened wide, revealing a beckoning black void he had seen a hundred times in his dreams.

"Oh, shit—"  Jonas yanked the joystick backward and to the side.  Too late.

The tips of the serrated teeth snapped down on his portside midwing, shredding it cleanly from the hull.

The crippled AG-2 spun sideways, barrel-rolling over and over, out of control.

Angel turned to follow.

Jonas pushed down on the joystick, plunging nose cone first to escape the faster huntress, hurtling right into the path of the two ascending Kronosaurs.

The startled pliosaurs darted away from the jaws of their immense enemy, dispersing in a wide arc to intercept their escaping prey along the bottom.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Celeste watched the Abyss Glider disappear into the darkness below, the Megalodon chasing it toward the seafloor.  "How close to the hydrothermal ceiling are we now?"

"We'll be through in two minutes," said a relieved Prokovich.  He studied the sonar.  "Looks like your friend's not going to make it."

"C'est la vie.  Wait . . . Goddamn it—what about Terry?"

"A deck's implosion has cost the Benthos its spherical shape.  As we speak, billions of pounds of pressure are pushing against the flattened hull.  The bending forces at this depth are fantastic.  I guarantee the ship won't last another twenty minutes."

Celeste smiled, picking up the radio receiver.  "Jonas, my love, I hope you can hear me.  Thanks so much for the help.  I promise I'll buy you a lovely tombstone."

Jonas ignored her, too busy fighting to regain control of the out-of-balance sub.

Angel's snout rammed into the tail assembly, her bioluminescent glow lighting the interior of the cockpit as the Abyss Glider soared blindly toward the unseen floor of the abyss.

Celeste's voice continued grating on his nerves over the radio.

"Jonas, let's be honest.  Don't you wish you would have made love to me that night in my cabin?"

The auxiliary prop . . .

Gritting his teeth, Jonas strained to reach the lever.

Circling upward from the bottom, the big female Kronosaurus raced into the fray, opening its jaws to steal its enemy's meal.

"It would have been the greatest fuck of your life, Jonas, the greatest.  You would have fallen in love with me—"

Sensing the Kronosaurus rising toward her prey, Angel opened her mouth, teeth bared as she strained to bit down upon the tail of the Abyss Glider.

"—instead, you're going to die.  Too bad for Terry, who's still alive aboard the Benthos, waiting for you to rescue her."

"What?  She's alive—and you left her down there—"

"She's alive at the moment.  She'll be dead on arrival—your arrival."

"You fucking bitch—"

"Wish I could have hung around to see the reunion.  Give her corpse a big hug for me."

Jonas heard the Prometheus crew laughing.  His stomach tightened in knots, a fit of rage rising in his throat as his face flushed in anger.  Twisting the lever counterclockwise, he oxidized the tank of liquid hydrogen, igniting the auxiliary propellers.

The AG-2 shot out of Angel's hyperextended jaws like a torpedo.

The mini-sub streaked past the stunned Kronosaur, then raced upward, soaring by the Megalodon, which turned to give chase.

Jonas grabbed the radio.  "Hey, Celeste, don't look now, but I'm about to give you the greatest fuck of your life!"

He cut his speed in half, waiting for Angel to catch up.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Celeste stared at the sonar, watching in disbelief as the smaller blip led the larger one out of the depths, on a collision course with her sub.

"Goddamn you, Jonas!"  She grabbed Prokovich's arm.  "How close are we to the hydrothermal ceiling?"

She heard the sounds of soot striking the outer hull.

"It's okay," he replied with a smile.  "We're in the layer now."

Visibility disappeared.  Celeste held her breath, staring out her porthole.  Twenty seconds later, they were through, ascending through frigid waters on their way up to the Goliath.

The crew clapped, tension in the cabin dissipating.  Celeste smiled, grabbing the radio.  "Da-svidan'ya, Jonas, my darling . . ."

Jonas accelerated, following the Prometheus up through the layer of soot.  He looked over his shoulder, seeing Angel's glow rising right behind him.  Emerging in the near freezing waters, he soared up toward Celeste's slow-moving vessel and began circling.

"Hey, Celeste, I found Angel.  Where do you want her?"

Celeste turned back to her porthole to see the mammoth creature rise up out of the current of debris.  Her father's last words echoed in her mind:  See you in hell . . .

Jonas waited until the Meg closed within fifty yards of the Prometheus.  The he pulled into a tight one-eighty and aimed the nose cone back toward the bottom.

Celeste's eyes widened as the hideous white head opened its immense jaws and wrapped them around the circumference of the spherical observation pod mounted beneath the Prometheus.

Titanium plates screeched in protest.  The sub's ascension halted, the vessel straining to rise against the added mass of the creature.

With a violent twist of its head, the Megalodon shook its challenger, causing the sub's power grid to overload in a shower of sparks.

Blanketed in total darkness, the helpless crew screamed as they were flung blindly about the pitch-dark cabin, tossed to and for like rag dolls.

Prokovich fell backward, tumbling into the observation pod.  He landed on a pile of squirming arms and legs, his forehead striking the porthole.  Opening his eye, he peered through the glass, then screamed, his sanity deserting him.

The sub's emergency lights revealed the pink insides of the prehistoric great white's mouth, which enveloped the spherical pod in a crushing embrace.

Celeste pressed her face against her porthole and looked down at the creature, its hideous gums stretched open around the observation pod, its gray eye rolled back in its head as it futilely attempted to pierce the titanium casing with its teeth.

The tragedy of her life suddenly flashed before her eyes.

Amid the screams of horror, cloaked within the chaos of darkness, Celeste wept, overwhelmed not by fear, but by the emptiness of her own existence.

Unable to bite into its prey, the Megalodon twisted its head back and forth, attempting to tear the observation pod free from the hull.

The edge of a titanium plate loosened—

For a surreal moment, the mass of the Prometheus seemed to inhale itself within its own center of gravity.

In an explosion of heavenly light, Celeste's pain was extinguished forever.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas rocketed blindly toward the unforgiving seafloor.  Terrified of smashing headfirst into the Trench, he cut off the liquid oxygen, stifling the hydrogen burn, then yanked back hard on the joystick, pulling the sub out of its nosedive.

The AG-2 leveled out forty feet from the bottom.  In his headlight loomed a towering forest of black smokers.

Gritting his teeth, Jonas whipped the sub precariously around the smoking stacks of minerals, which seemed to jump out at him from the darkness.  He groaned—as the sub sideswiped a towering mountain of rock, the hydrothermal vent's chimney stack shearing the remaining midwing right off the hull.

With the remaining wing gone, Jonas regained partial control of his craft.  He rolled the Abyss Glider upright, then soared above the bellowing black smokers.

An imposing shadow loomed ahead behind eerie red lighting, the object too large to be anything but the Benthos.

The two blips reappeared, moving to intercept him.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Using her teeth, Terry managed to unravel the coil of electrical wire from her wrists.  As she stood, a sickening groan of metal filled her ears.

Along the outer hull of the Benthos,  titanium plates began buckling like dominoes, creating indentations and minute cavities of space, allowing the unfathomable pressures of the abyss a toehold.

With a deafening crunch, level B imploded, flattening beneath 1,160 atmospheres of pressure.

Terry's scream was drowned out by another explosion as C deck was crushed into oblivion.

A nanosecond later, the Benthos 's emergency system activated, its hydraulic compressors slamming twenty tons of titanium plating into place to seal off level D, temporarily preventing the rest of the Benthos from collapsing like a house of cards.

Terry squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath as frightening sounds of twisting metal echoed all around her.  The memory of the mangled bodies of the Epimetheus crew swirling within the flooded docking station overwhelmed her thoughts.  Devoid of all hope, she slumped down on the floor and curled up in a ball, waiting to meet her maker.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas circled the Benthos, searching for the hangar entrance.  A blue strobe light came into view.  He directed the Abyss Glider across the beam activating the automatic entry system.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Terry leaped to her feet as seawater began pumping up from a series of baffles beneath the floor.  Oh, God, I'm going to die—I'm going to die . . .

The madness of the moment became overwhelming.  She yanked at the chamber door again, screaming at the hopelessness of the gesture, then sloshed through ankle-deep water toward the far end of the hangar.

She stood there in the rising flood, her entire body trembling in fear, staring at the rows of UNIS robots.

And then an outlandish thought came to her.  She refocused her mind, forcing herself to concentrate.

The UNIS devices had barrel-shaped titanium hulls designed to protect the sensitive instruments within from the pressures of the deep.  If she could open one up and climb inside . . .

Terry scanned the lid of the first barrel, miserable with the realization that the drill required to loosen the lid's lug nuts was locked inside the control room.

Water rose above her knees.

"Oh, God, please—"

She ran from barrel to barrel, delirious with fright.  Then she noticed the last barrel.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas hovered the AG-2 outside the hangar in darkness, waiting impatiently for the twelve-foot titanium door to open.

The two blips grew stronger.

Jonas looked to his left and right, nervously scanning the lead-gray domelike hull of the Benthos, just barely visible in the red light.  "Come on, faster, damn it!"

A sinewy shadow glided along the bottom, directly beneath the lighted belly of the Benthos.  Jonas slammed his fist down on the joystick—as the savage head of the adult Kronosaurus shot out from beneath the ship.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Terry cried for joy at the sight of the last UNIS.  Whoever had worked on the instrument last had not bothered to secure the lug bolts.

Waist-deep in seawater, she turned the bulky, manhole-size lid counterclockwise, saying a prayer of thanks to the crewman whose carelessness had given her the slightest chance of survival.

A putrid smell rose from the barrel.

She continued twisting, the smell choking her.  A dead rat?  With both hands, she lifted the sixty-pound lid off its seal, releasing a vile stench that staggered her.

Terry turned away, took a deep breath, and reached into the UNIS, feeling what appeared to be a heavy burlap bag.

What in the hell?

Unable to gain enough leverage to lift the bag from below, Terry slid the titanium lid to one side and climbed on top of the UNIS.  Adrenaline pumping, she reached down, using her legs as she forcibly lifted the burlap bag out of the titanium barrel, tossing it into the rising water.

Her ears popped, the pressure inside the hangar rising fast.

Jumping down into chest-high water, she emptied the contents of the bag.

Her bloodcurdling scream was choked off by rising vomit, as the mutilated corpse of Heath Williams tumbled into the water.

Terry pushed the decapitated body away, then rushed back to the barrel, its opening now only six inches from the rising waters.  Hoisting herself up, she squeezed inside, crying out in horror.

The inside was too small to fold herself into!

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas raced the AG-2 around the Benthos, hugging the titanium dome as the enormous pliosaur closed quickly from behind.

Damn it . . . where's the other one?

Unable to maneuver as close to the hull as its smaller prey, the fifty-thousand-pound marine reptile snapped its jaws, attempting to latch onto the sub's tail fin.

Jonas stole a quick glance to his right, catching sight of the luminous, reptilian eye.  A set of streamlined jaws, longer than his sub, opened to reveal rows of deadly sharp, conical teeth.

The Kronosaurus lurched its head sideways, snapping again at its fleeing prey.

Pulling back hard on the joystick, Jonas drove the sub into a vertical climb—seconds before the smaller Kronosaurus came soaring out from around the other side of the Benthos.

Climbing up and over the flattened dome, Jonas raced for the hangar door.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jamming her fingers behind the main circuit board, Terry twisted and pulled from within the hollow barrel, using every last ounce of strength to tear the bulky console out of the interior of the unmanned submersible robot.

Water began pouring into the UNIS.

Bracing her feet against the insides, she jerked backward, smashing her head as she ripped the equipment from its housing.

Terry tossed the circuit board out, then reached up and pulled the titanium cover into position.

In total darkness, kneeling in agony within the cramped refuge, she desperately began twisting the lid along the titanium threads, knowing that the seal had to be perfect in order to prevent the pressures of the abyss from imploding every cell in her body.

For several frightening moments, water continued to seep inside.

Three more revolutions . . . then, mercifully, the flow stopped.

Terry continued turning the lid as tightly as she could, trying hard not to gag at the putrid smell of decayed flesh still lingering within the barrel.  Unable to twist the top any farther, she leaned back in absolute darkness, panting in the suffocating confines of what might very well become her coffin.

A muffled sound of hydraulics rumbled in her ears as the giant hangar doors began opening, allowing the abyss to enter the chamber.

Terry began hyperventilating. This was it!  She held her head in her hands, trembling in the pitch, waiting for her insides to explode.

The hydraulics stopped.

Sealed in a barrel, seven miles below the surface of the Pacific Ocean, Terry Taylor sobbed, realizing that, but for a final desperate act of survival, her life would have been obliterated.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

The one-man sub soared up and over the mangled roof of the Benthos, the adult Kronosaur closing from behind.  Racing down the opposite side of the hull, Jonas saw a soft glow emanating below to his left.

The hangar door had opened!

Still hugging the titanium surface, Jonas was about to execute a sharp turn into the opening when he spotted the smaller Kronosaur flying at him from beneath the Benthos.

Accelerating the AG-2 away from the hull, Jonas flew directly at the oncoming beast.  At the last second, he banked the sub hard into a tight inverted roll and soared into the hangar.

The Abyss Glider glanced twice off the far wall before Jonas gauged the interior and yanked back on the joystick, spinning the nose cone in a tight circle before slowing to hover.

Before the hangar doors could close, the smaller Kronosaur darted inside, crashing sideways into the sub, its girth filling the chamber.

Jonas held on as the AG-2 rolled upside down, smashing into a row of UNIS robots.

Wedged lengthwise into the tight enclosure, the creature strained to reach its prey as the hangar door sealed shut.

Jonas, suspended upside down within the body harness, could only watch as the beast lashed at him with its tremendous jaws.

He gasped as a headless torso floated by.

With a single bite, the Kronosaur took Heath Williams's body in its mouth, chomping it to pieces.

Jonas shut his eyes to the carnage, as blood and chunks of rotted flesh swirled about the hangar.

The sound of hydraulic pumps caused him to open his eyes.

The Kronosaur pushed the side of its face against the LEXAN nose cone, its crimson eye peering inside.

Jonas struggled to free himself from the body harness, realizing the creature was about to bite into the nose cone.

Then, something bizarre happened.  Instead of biting, the Kronosaurus began rolling over and over, its entire torso quivering in colossal spasms.

Jonas saw the water level drop.

The change in pressure!

Heaving wildly, the Kronosaur gave one final lurch, then collapsed under its own weight, blood seeping from every orifice.

Jonas dropped out of the harness and crawled to the rear of the pod.  He unsealed the hatch and backed his way out of the sub, struggling to stand.

"Terry!"  He continued yelling out his wife's name, slipping several times on the wet floor as he headed for what appeared to be a control room located on the far side of the chamber.  Realizing he couldn't reach it unless he climbed over the dead animal's back, he stepped onto the hind flipper, gingerly placed his hands on the scaly slick brown hide.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Trapped within the UNIS, Terry shouted, her muffled screams unheard as she struggled desperately to unscrew the bulky lid in the suffocating darkness.  Her chest heaved as she tried sucking in lungfuls of air that no longer existed.  A bizarre sensation—as the darkness seemed to whirl around her.  And then she slumped forward, unconscious.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas threw his shoulder against he locked control-room door.  Giving up, he rant to the watertight door leading into the Benthos, only to find that locked, as well.

Above his head, the sound of screeching metal echoed throughout the ship.

A feeling of despair washed over him.  His wife was nowhere to be found, his own life about to be crushed into oblivion, Jonas scrambled over the dead Kronosaur's back, hustling to find the gun Harry Moon had given him.

That's when he noticed the console torn out from the UNIS.

Jonas stared at the object, a perturbing thought crossing his mind.  Why had Celeste allowed him access into the Benthos if Terry was really alive?  What had she meant by saying that his wife would be "dead on his arrival"?

Celeste wanted me to enter the hangar.  Why?  To trigger the mechanism.  She must have locked Terry inside!

Jonas searched the chamber, then ran to the rows of UNIS robots.  For a long moment he stared at the lug nuts and torn-out console.

Then it dawned on him.

"Terry, oh, God, please—"

He grabbed hold of the UNIS lid, unscrewing it.

"Terry, can you hear me?"

Jonas lifted the lid, tossing it aside.  Reaching into the UNIS, he grabbed his wife's limp arms and pulled her out of the barrel, taken back by the stench of death coming from within.

"Oh, God, Terry, baby, speak to me."

Her face was blue.  Tilting her head back, Jonas started mouth to mouth.

The Benthos began shaking as if caught in an earthquake.

He checked for a pulse.

Yes—faint.

He continued mouth to mouth, tears streaming from his eyes.

Terry's complexion changed from blue to red. She gagged, slowly opening her eyes.

Jonas trembled with relief, smiling, crying, unable to control his emotions.  Terry recognized him, and her eyes filled with tears.  Jonas lifted her gently as she hugged him around his neck, refusing to let go.  "Jonas—Jonas—I love you so much—"

"I love you, too."

For a long moment, they held each other, oblivious of their surroundings.

A shearing screech of metal screamed somewhere above their heads.

"Terry, the Benthos is collapsing.  How do we get out of here?"

"Oh, God, we can't," she said with sudden realization.  "The control room's locked."  She gasped, seeing the dead monster for the first time.  "What happened to it?"

"Atmospheric pressure didn't agree with him. Can you operate the hangar doors if we can get inside?"

"I already tried, it's impossible."

Jonas ran to the AG-2 and crawled inside.  Reaching beneath the console, he removed the handgun.

"Come on."  Jonas helped her over the dead Kronosaur.  "I'm going to blow the lock off, stand back."

Jonas fired twice, rupturing the locking mechanism.

Terry found the iron bar she had used on Sergei.  Jonas wedged it in the seal, managing to pry the door open enough to gain a handhold.  Together, they pulled back the door enough to allow Terry to slip inside.  She scanned the control board, then activated the pressurization sequence.

Seawater began gushing up from the floor.  The Benthos howled at them in protest.

"We don't have much time," she yelled.

"Help me with the AG-2."

Climbing over the beast, they ran in ankle-deep water back to the inverted Abyss Glider.  Lifting the nose cone, they rolled it right-side up.

"Let's drag it to the hangar door," Jonas shouted, noticing the damaged tail fin and engine mount.

Terry grabbed an edge of the tail assembly and pushed, plodding through the waist-deep water.

"Terry, there's something I have to tell you—"

"Please don't tell me you slept with that woman."

Jonas smiled nervously.  "God, no—"

A deep rumbling replaced the sound of shrieking metal.

"Jonas, when the hangar door opens, the Benthos will lose what little integrity it has left.  It'll crush us like a—"

"Get in and crawl all the way up front," Jonas yelled, opening the hatch for her.  Terry scurried into the nose cone, her weight lifting the hatch away from the rising water.  Jonas slipped in feetfirst, sealing the pod behind him.

Lying side by side, they watched the chamber fill above their heads.

Jonas started the engines.

Nothing.

"What's wrong?"

"I think that monster crushed the fuselage.  Goddamn it, the tank of liquid hydrogen ruptured—"

"Jonas!"

The hangar door raised.

Level D buckled, triggering an instantaneous implosion within each deck below.

Jonas grabbed the lever to the emergency pod and pulled hard.

The LEXAN cylinder blasted away from the outer hull assembly and shot out into the darkness—as the Benthos imploded behind them, flattening like a pancake.  The collapsing titanium shell momentarily sucked them backward before releasing its death grip.

The powerless LEXAN pod began rising in total blackness.

Terry and Jonas hugged each other, breathing heavily into each other's ears.

"Jonas, what were you going to tell me?"

"The Megalodon's here."

"Here?  In the Trench?  Right now?  Oh, God, Jonas—your dreams."

Jonas felt his whole body shaking.

Terry stroked his hair in a motherly way, soothing him.  "What happens next?" she whispered.

Jonas opened his eyes wide, still unable to see her face in the pitch.  "Angel will detect us just as we approach the hydrothermal ceiling.  In my dreams she follows us up, then rises up through the layer to engulf the pod."

"Maybe she won't see us."

"Maybe.  Terry, I—I'm so sorry about all of this.  I ruined our marriage and—"

She squeezed his hand.  "Jonas, you risked your life to rescue me."

"I'd rather die with you than live without you."  He leaned over and kissed her.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Angel glided effortlessly just below the hydrothermal ceiling, her bioluminescent glow casting an iridescent reflection against the swirling layer of soot above her body.  The massive implosion of the Benthos had temporarily driven the predator away.  Now she returned, detecting a solitary object rising up from the seafloor.  She moved to intercept.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas leaned out over the navigational console, staring into the blackness of the Trench, waiting for the glow to appear.

Turning to his right, he saw a moonlike radiance moving below dark clouds, approaching fast.  Maybe I'm dreaming again?  Wake up!

Jonas's heartbeat thundered in his chest.

"What is it?" Terry whispered, lying on her back, her eyes closed.

Jonas took her hand and held it tight as the glow materialized into the demonic face of his worst nightmare.

The pod rose up through the hydrothermal layer, spinning wildly in the swirling current.  Jonas began hyperventilating.

Clearing the hydrothermal layer, the pod ascended through near freezing waters.  More than six miles of ocean still remained above their heads.

Jonas knew what was coming, and yet he had to look.  One last time—one horrible last time—he had to stare death in the face.   He squeezed Terry's hand and waited for the luminous triangular head to appear—just as it had eleven years before—just as it had in his dreams a hundred times since.

"Terry, I love you—"

A faint glow pushed through the swirling debris below, growing larger.  The shape took form,  the unearthly light illuminating Terry's features to a gray silhouette.

Jonas trembled, a knot of fear tightening in his stomach.

Terry held on to him as she turned to stare into the depths.

In deathly silence the face of the Megalodon rose out from the mist, its ghostly white skin frightening against the pitch blackness.  The demonic grin cracked open, a cavernous mouth revealing the stretch of dark gums, supporting rows of serrated triangular teeth.

Jonas fought to draw a breath.  Terrified, yet unable to turn away, he stared at the cathedrallike gullet, the upper jaw hyperextending away from the widening maw.

A blur flashed to his right.  He turned—shocked to see the adult Kronosaurus charging at the pod, its terrible jaws opening.

Jonas and Terry screamed as the carnivore's mouth slammed shut atop the LEXAN cylinder.  A grisly grating sound filled their ears as the ovoid pod was ground between the reptile's tongue and the roof of its mouth.

Jonas grabbed Terry and held on as their world went topsy-turvy.

The female pliosaur swam away with her prey but could not swallow it whole.  Stretching its savage jaws, the Kronosaurus attempted to reposition the slippery sub between its upper jaw and lower fangs in order to bite it in half.

Jonas and Terry held each other desperately, their eyes squeezed tight, waiting to die, as the pod turned in the pliosaur's gaping maw.

Jonas opened his eyes to see a faint glow, the luminescent light illuminating the razor-sharp pointed Kronosaurus teeth enveloping them on all sides.

Suddenly the escape pod spun out of the reptile's mouth.

Jonas watched in disbelief as Angel lunged forward, snapping her immense jaws over the elongated mouth of the stunned pliosaur.

"Yes!  Yes!  YES!

The Kronosaur's lower torso flailed wildly as Angel's immense jaws crushed the crocodilelike head in a smothering embrace.

The pliosaur's dark blood gushed from the shark's clenched jaw.  A sickening crunch of bone as the luminous predator splintered the Kronosaur's skull.

Angel paused to eye the escape pod rising away.

Jonas's heart pounded wildly, praying the female would not give chase.  For a long moment he stared into the cataract-gray eye.  Let us go, Angel, let us go . . .

To his relief, the shark turned, descending back into the Trench, the dead Kronosaur still held firmly within its jaws.  With a final flick of its caudal fin, it was gone.

Once more, they were enveloped in darkness.

Jonas choked back tears of joy.  He hugged his wife as the escape pod continued to rise.

 

*        *        *        *        *

 

Jonas lay on his back.  Terry nuzzled safely in his arms, her head on his chest.  Staring into the ceiling of black sea above, he felt totally at peace.  For the first time in eleven years, he was no longer afraid.  For the first time, he felt he had a future.

Blackness gradually turned to purple, and then to deep blue.

Terry stirred.  He stroked her ebony hair.  She drifted back to sleep.

With a powerful whoosh, the pod burst forth from the sea, bobbing on the surface.

Terry sat up, gazing into a scarlet sunset as if waking from a long sleep.  She smiled, kissing her husband, nuzzling his neck.

Jonas pushed her aside just long enough to activate the emergency distress beacon.

Ten minutes later, the William Beebe appeared on the darkening horizon.  An orange Zodiac was quickly lowered into the sea, Masao and Mac climbing on board.

"De profundis," Terry whispered, laying her head back on his chest.

"What does that mean?"

"Benedict had it inscribed on his submersibles.  It means:  out of the depths.  For so long, my only thought, my only obsession, was to escape from the Trench.  I was so scared, always surrounded by death."  She leaned over him, smiling.  "You saved me, Jonas, you pulled my soul out of the depths.  When I saw your face, I felt like my prayers had finally been answered.

"Mine too," Jonas whispered, gazing into her eyes.  "Mine too."