Chapter 13: Water Pressure

San Diego, near Camp Pendleton

"Everyone step back", Abbott hollered, ushering them away from the gritty hill that emerged from the sandy landscape. Lisbon turned on her heel, along with Jane, who raised a protective arm behind her back. They ran to the coverage of nearby rocks, avalanched from the mountains onto the shore. She leaned with her back against the rock, her head landing on soft surface, as Jane curled his hand around her shoulders, pulling her further out of the way.

The explosion unfurled, its echo encompassing the few stars that dotted the dawning sky. Shadowy figures stomped on the earthy ground, their navy blue gear barely distinguishable in the dark light. She emerged from behind the rock, gun at the ready, and squinted through the rising smoke. The heavy metal door rammed into the stone hung loosely from its hinges.

Abbott waved two fingers over his shoulder. They followed him along with a parade of S.W.A.T. members. Cho kicked down the door. The cry of metal went on forever into the tunnel. The entrance breathed out a cold, wet aura, spoiled with the smell of seaweed and salt. Flashlights switched on, illuminating a path that sloped down to the earth. It was easy to determine the point they went under water by the change in the temperature. Black letters on a grey door read Marine Corps Underwater Brig. The door swayed softly on the floor, metal whispering. Abbott pushed it further open.

They came across a narrow path that stretched beyond light, steel doors hanging open throughout its length. The doors were drawn enough to let sight into the rooms they secured. Limp figures–young girls–lay hunched into the corners, their eyes drooped down, their clothes torn and dirty. The place was the earthly equivalent of purgatory. Lisbon heard the rub of cotton and soon, Jane's rhythmic breath joined her side. She listened as it grew shallower, until it lost sound completely. She didn't need to turn in order to know the look in his eyes.

"Vega?" Cho shouted. "Wylie?"

The walls brought no answer.

Abbott motioned for them to cover sides. They poured into the corridor. Lisbon threw herself gun first through the nearest door. A paramedic rushed past her and fell on his knees next to a girl of no more than sixteen, her orange hair hanging in an unkempt mass from her head. Lisbon gawked in silence, as he checked for a pulse and then proceeded to offer her CPR. Steps came at the door. Her head turned in a haze, until her gaze interlocked with Jane's. Time froze around her. For a moment, there was nothing but the blur of moving bodies, the pressure that came from tons of water above, and Jane's frozen shape as he stared at the futility that surrounded their life.

Two nurses arrived with a stretcher at the door, stopping short of Jane. His face opened, whirling around. He stepped aside, waving a hand forward. The women paid no regard to his chivalry. Once he cleared the way, they were back to work. Their movements were like steps in a choreography. Like they'd repeated them so many times in their lives, they no longer needed to watch each other in order to synchronize. Once the canvas was lowered next to the girl, the paramedic moved her body onto it. Then, all three of them carried her out of the room. People in uniforms sprinted back and forth in the hall outside. The upheaval of steps and shouted orders were a sheer reality around her.

That, and the god-damned water pressure.

Or maybe, it was just her discomfort with confined spaces.

She felt Jane's gaze weigh on her. He waved his head, one foot facing the entrance. He forced a casual expression, but she could see his eyes were guarded. Even after all these years, he still thought he could fool her with a mask. She looked at him steadily. His eyes opened, as if in ignorance.

"You okay?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Lisbon. It's nothing. The place is just depressing. It'll be probably gone once I have a clear blue sky above my head again", he reassured her.

She stared at him in concern for a moment. His eyes widened in defence. He flicked his head toward the entrance once more. She pressed her lips together. "Okay", she said, then quietly followed him out.

Cho appeared at the entrance down the narrow hall. He leaned against the door frame and dry-heaved. Lisbon took an involuntary step forward, seeing his expression. They ran to his side. Cho straightened to meet their gaze.

"There's a locked door up the tunnel."

Lisbon tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. "How come we didn't see it as we came?"

"It's a trap door", Cho answered mechanically. His gaze sneaked toward Jane.

Lisbon blinked, her eyes widening. "Wait, you mean there's a lower level underneath us? How deep is this hell's pit?" she frowned. She turned to Jane and realized the two men were looking intensely at each other. Jane had become rigid all over his body, his eyes shadowed. Suddenly, she felt that there was more to Cho's words. She turned to him, one question hovering in her thoughts.

"How did you find it?"

Lisbon stared at the thin, subtle line that cut out the squared shape from the rest of the ground. Hadn't she been told the hatch was there, she probably would have never known of its existence. They were closer to the exit, though not above sea level. Gurneys and people in uniforms trickled in and out.

She peeked at Cho through the corners of her eyes. He stood opposite her, with hands on his waist and expression marked with a kind of misgiving that was uncommon to his features. Van Pelt and Rigsby caught her gaze, their eyes filled with silent question, as if searching for her guidance. She wondered if they would ever stop seeing her as their boss. Van Pelt's eyes shifted past her. Lisbon turned to her side in awareness. Jane held her flash steadily, using it to illuminate a picture in his other hand—the most recent expression of their serial killer's artistic talents. Cho had found the photo on one of the girl victims. It displayed a vast room full of metal containers stacked in rows one after the other. Lisbon didn't even want to ponder the message implied in the context.

Abbott's voice boomed among the walls, as he chatted vigorously with two men dressed in army green. They were U.S. Marines, and supposedly knew the ins and outs of this place. As much as a map could acquaint someone with a place. According to them, the room with the containers lay beneath the trap door. And access was controlled from the central power system. They didn't dare use explosives, so one of the Marines had gone to open it for them.

"How is it possible that a serial killer accessed a high-protection U.S. fortress without you noticing?" Abbott was arguing in hushed tones. "You literally have a full room of torture weapons down here and you left it completely unguarded. What kind of responsibility is that?"

"Agent Abbott, with all due respect, this place was built to be used as a secret base of operation during war. Its existence is strictly confidential. And also it hasn't been used for decades. The containers you call torture weapons are water traps. Our predecessors used them for training. Not for torture", explained the Marine.

"Training?" Abbott frowned.

The other man kept his composure. "Soldiers need to be able to control their panic and act with logic in the face of danger. The method of course is no longer used as it was considered lethal—many trainees experienced heart attacks—but anyway, the main principle is that, while the water fills up, the soldier has to unbind himself, stop the water from coming and get out of the box".

"Wait, stop the water from coming? How is that done exactly?"

"There's a lever inside that increases the pressure inside the box, so the water can't come in anymore".

"Is there any other place these can be found?"

"Of what I know, Ren Fontane, the initial manufacturer has a collection of them at his house. He is a retired Marine now".

Abbott shook his head in thought. Lisbon had gotten distracted in their conversation for a moment. As silence set again, her agony rose to the forefront, rattling like a baby that demanded her attention. She wondered what was taking so long to open the god-damned door.

"This is a trap", Jane murmured close to her ear.

She furrowed. She was already aware of the risk. She didn't need a reminder. "We have to try for Wylie and Vega", she said firmly.

"He knew we'd think that", Jane returned in a monotone. She didn't answer, only let out a quiet sigh. She refused to let fear control her will.

The earth snored beneath their feet. Lisbon's gaze stuck on the floor. The door growled and then loosened its hold on the ground. Glances fluttered around in the quiet. Cho sat down and inched his fingers under the frame. Rigsby scurried to aid him. They lifted the lid half-way, but their effort was cut short by an ear-splitting sound of metal groaning. The door slipped from their hands and crumbled down the other side. Lisbon listened for a few tensed seconds, her heart tying in a knot. Everything in the tunnel had quieted. Two nurses that were carrying one of the girls stopped in their tracks and looked upwards. The groan travelled across the ceiling, as if a giant was placing his foot on top.

And then, it was drizzling.

Droplets of salty water splashed everywhere on the floor, their clothes, their hair.

"Oh no", Lisbon whispered.

Everything happened as if in slow motion. The Marine that had gone to open the door came back running to them. "It's going to collapse!" he cried. "The internal bombs have been activated!"

"What internal bombs? What are you talking about?" Abbott demanded, meanwhile all of them exchanging panicked looks.

The Marine eased at their feet. "The facility was built with an auto-destruction mechanism. In case it fell on enemy hands. Someone tampered with the system and it activated the bombs as soon as I pressed a button. We need to leave now!" he croaked.

Abbott whirled and cupped his mouth. "Everyone evacuate the place immediately!" he shouted. Screams travelled throughout the gullet of the tunnel. The building roared as large chunks of cement fell somewhere far in the depth.

Lisbon turned, suddenly everything else waning in importance, but for the need to take Jane and run outside. She found his blue-clad hand and snatched it. As she pulled though, she realized she was tying to move a rock. Her eyes tumbled in a daze, as she turned to rummage his face. Crowds swished by, the rest of the team engaged in helping everyone out.

"Jane?" she worried, gripping his waist.

"Shhh", he said and bent around her, over the hole in the ground. "Do you hear that?" he asked.

"Hear what?" she demanded. "Jane, the ceiling's gonna give in any moment!"

He clutched her arm and locked her eyes. "Listen!"

The sharp intensity in his blue irises gave her pause. She strained to calm her frenzied heartbeat and listened. And then, she heard it. A distant, muffled cry for help. She whirled and stared into the pit. "Someone's down there", she realized.

She took her flash from his hands and illuminated the interior. The light fell on top of a staircase. She looked to the chaos around them. There was no time to inform any of their colleagues. She met Jane's eyes.

"Jane", she started calmly, holding his gaze, "You need to go follow the others—"

"Not to hear it", he cut her off.

"Jane—"

"You're not going down there alone!" he said.

"I won't let you risk your life with me!"

"Neither will I", he returned.

He spread his hand out to her. She glanced at it, weighing the decision in his eyes and the time they were running out of.

The next moment she was clasping his palm and they were both leaping into the hole.

They barrelled down the stairs hand in hand. The sounds of the world crumbling above withered away. She realized, as she ran away from safety and felt his fingers in her palm, that she wasn't scared. Not in the slightest. Despite her sheer protest, she found that part of her was glad he had come. Running into the claws of danger was the life path she had chosen. He didn't have to go down with her. But still, if she were to die here, she would be with the person she loved most in this world. She had nothing to be fearful of. Jane tightened his grip on her hand, as if somehow his thoughts were on the same wavelength.

The temperature was below freezing at the bottom. The cold impelled her bones like iron rods. She shed her light ahead and saw it bounce off a row of metal boxes.

"Hello?" she shouted. "Who's here?"

She squinted into the dark, holding her breath.

"Lisbon?!" came then a familiar voice. Lisbon felt as if her heart would yield under the weight of emotion. "I'm here! Help me!" The cries sounded distant, like they were coming from another room.

"He's in the boxes", Jane breathed, pointing with his finger to a vague direction. They both ran across the room and hurled themselves on the containers. The lids thundered as they yanked each one open. Wylie's voice became clearer near the end of the first row. Lisbon fumbled at the surface of a container, until her fingers gripped around the handle. She wrenched it back, and came across a pair of squinting eyes and sweaty blond hair.

"Wylie!" she exclaimed.

"Lisbon", he chocked, his voice dreary. Jane appeared at her side, his breath out of control. She seized Wylie's arm and threw it over her shoulders, as Jane wrapped his hand around the boy's back. The sound of water trickling slunk through the air, like a hyena preparing to snaffle its prey. Lisbon froze and directed her flash toward the stairs. Quiet encompassed the three of them as they watched the light glimmer and sway on moving surface.

"We need to hurry", Jane croaked.

Far away, the upsurge of oncoming water broke into the compound.

A/N: Thank you all for the warm welcoming back. I was happy to see that this story still applies to your tastes. And to my new readers, glad to have you join the ride.

Disclaimer: The place described at the beginning is completely fictional. I chose Camp Pendleton as its location, because it is already a Marine facility and it fitted. However, as far as I know, there was never an underwater secret base there. Fictional is also the story about the metal containers with the Marine Corps (and the containers themselves).

Next Chapter: Some angst on the way.