Four wake trails streaked through the water as the DPVs carrying Tristan's men rapidly approached the sunken caravel, as well as the two trapped treasure hunters that huddled inside the pilot house. Flanking the mounted divers, two other Ocelotl goons swam along the perimeter of the wreck with APS amphibious rifles at the ready, effectively blocking every line of escape for Cassie and Ian.
"Well," Ian said dryly. "Cool. Cool cool. This is just great. Cutter, about those connections of yours-"
"Just bloody stow it, mate," Cutter growled back at him, clearly already feeling the pressure. "You can't even be bothered to write your own mum every once in a while, but if I don't keep up with every boat owner and illegal arms dealer from here to Hanoi, I get read the riot act!" In the ensuing pause, Cassie could hear the distant, percussive sound of gunfire crackling through the comms. "Besides, Solange and I aren't exactly up here having elevenses…"
Another round of bolts from the Ocelotl's rifles flew through the open door and strafed the deck, cutting a line to the nav desk, which blew to pieces as the darts passed through. "We can't fight these guys like this!" Cassie said, the stress of the imminent conflict straining her voice. "We need to hide, and hopefully find another way out of this thing!" Her eyes turned to the hole in the deck where she had broken through while prying open the secret compartment to get the mirror. "Foster, quick- follow me!"
The two of them dove down through the splintered floor, their diving flashlights illuminating the way as they snaked through the framework of the ship and into the caravel's hold. It was a spacious compartment stretching about twenty feet toward the bow of the ship and littered with the remains of cargo in the form of crates, barrels, and bags. These were all in varying states of rot, and most had piled up on the low side of the vessel when it had flipped. Only a few crates remained in their position by virtue of chains securing them to the deck. "Let's look around and see if we can find any other way out," Cassie said hurriedly. "Maybe we'll get lucky and there's a hole smashed in the side or something."
They both began searching frantically for any promising avenues out of the wreck, but the gloomy hold yielded nothing. Spotting what looked to be a particularly worm-eaten board, Cassie shoved aside the remains of a barrel marked with a barely legible stamp reading "Mango Liqueur" and tried to work her fingers into the gap to pry on it. It didn't budge, and a moment later she was interrupted by an ominous boom that resounded above them, the noise of the explosion hollow yet powerful in the depths of the sea. The resulting shock wave that swept through the hold sent Cassie and Ian flying against the walls; they both cracked painfully against the timbers and slumped to the bottom. Stunned, Cassie lay limp for a moment before turning over and looking toward what had been the top of the cargo hold.
A cloud of debris and silt lingered in the water where moments before had been the main cargo hatch. Three divers were descending through the newly-made opening, their featureless masks and APS rifles lending them a particular air of menace. "Whoa- time to move!" Cassie yelled into the comms.
She and Ian scrambled to their feet and dove for cover, but with the battle was ridiculously stilted against them. The aerodynamic darts that shot from the Ocelotl's guns- only barely missing them- cut through the water with frightening speed and accuracy, while Cassie and Ian's own movements were reduced to a slogging, slow-motion crawl by water drag. Crouched behind crates, the two young treasure hunters both drew their diving knives and readied themselves for a fight.
"Jesus-" Ian said as he risked a peek around his crate. "If they're trying to find the mirror, maybe leading with an explosion isn't the best way to do it!"
"Well, lucky for them they don't have to find the mirror," Cassie said humorlessly as the goons came toward them. "They just have to kill us."
The words were barely out of her mouth when another crash, even more deafening than the explosion, knocked them off their feet. The tortured squeal of wooden beams and iron fittings being strained to their limit echoed to overwhelming affect through the water, the depth of the ocean lending it an almost awe-inspiring reverb. Every person currently in the cargo hold was caught by surprise as the entire wrecked caravel shifted suddenly as it began to right itself, and rolled over once, then twice, shedding more and more pieces of the frame as the brittle timbers gave out. "What the hell is going on?" Ian yelled as they were tossed head-over-heels.
As suddenly as it began, the sickening roll of the ship ceased, and it instead started dragging along the ocean floor, compelled by some unseen force, while the maelstrom of cargo that had been thrown around began to sink back to the floor. Cassie found her bearings and looked up just in time to see a huge crate about to pin her to the deck; with a yelp she rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding being smashed beneath it. The water in the hold was full of filth, reducing visibility to almost zero and giving her and Ian a brief respite. Cassie had, at the end of the vessel's crazy acrobatics, ended up near one side of the hold, and as she placed a hand on the wall she noticed a large metal prong sticking through the planks on the side.
"Uh, Charlie?" she said tentatively. "You were… pulling up the anchor, right?"
"Oh god," Ian muttered, realizing where she was going with this.
After a brief pause, Cutter's voice crackled back to them. "Yeah."
The caravel trembled beneath them, and Cassie caught herself on one of the ribs. "I think you may have hooked the shipwreck."
"I what?" Cutter said in disbelief. "Oh, bloody hell. What a bleeding cock-up of a…"
Cassie missed the rest of his muttered tirade as the wreck hit a bump and bounced. The flotsam had settled down some by this point, and Cassie could see that while two of Tristan's goons had been buried in the falling cargo, one was back on his feet and lining up another shot at her. "Foster!" she said. "Move your ass!"
"Where?" he yelled back, motioning to the absolutely flattened contents of the hold.
Faceless and emotionless behind the diving mask, the lone Ocelotl goon paced forward with deliberate, lumbering steps through the water while keeping the rifle trained on them, like a shark closing in for the kill. Cassie and Ian raised their diving knives and angled their bodies to him to give as small of a target as possible.
Another resonating crack split the ocean's relative silence, and the anchor came bursting back through the side of the ship on its backswing passing between them and the goon. Heavy and ponderous, like some kind of ludicrous pendulum, it swung through on its chain, peeling back the decking in its path, exited the wreck through the opposite wall, and was gone. An uncertain pause fell between Cassie, Ian, and the Ocelotl.
"Sheesh, that was close!" Cassie chuckled nervously. "Let's, uh, just see ourselves out-"
The goon took another step forward, ending the awkward cease-fire. Then the anchor came crashing through once again, catching the unfortunate Ocelotl and smashing him into the side of the ship.
"Heh," Cassie breathed a sigh of relief. "You were the anchor of your team, buddy!" she said as she swam forward to catch the APS rifle he had dropped. "Uh…is it too soon?"
"Not soon enough," Ian replied as he also armed himself with a rifle off the fallen Ocelotl. "That was way too close."
"Well," Cassie swam over to the hole the anchor made in the side of the shipwreck. "I think that was half of the Ocelotl guys down, so I guess we could be doing worse." She peered out and tried to get a sight on where the other three goons were.
"Not to mention these guns ought to even up the odds a bit," Ian said.
One of Tristan's goons appeared, speeding across Cassie's frame of vision on a DPV before circling around and heading straight for the breach in the hull. "I guess we'll find out!" Cassie said.
She stepped out into the open and fired her rifle at the approaching goon, the dart hitting him square in the chest. Blood clouded the water as the goon fell from the DPV and sank slowly to the ocean floor, while his now unmanned vehicle spiraled into the side of the wreck and bounced off.
"Ugh," Cassie said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "That's… not the most pleasant way to kill someone."
"Well, it's probably even worse to get killed by it."
Cassie gave a huff of laughter. "Touche."
Cassie and Ian pushed off the bottom and began swimming toward the surface. As she went, Cassie kept her head on a swivel as she tried to locate the remaining two goons, but they seemed to have disappeared into the shadows. Meanwhile, Ian hailed Cutter over the comms to get a bearing on where their boat was now.
"Roughly east of the shipwreck," came the Cutter's reply. "But it is a just a little tricky to keep track of, what with this ship of fools shooting at us." The sound of ricocheting gunfire could be heard faintly in the background. "Sod off, arsehole!" they heard Cutter yell, followed by much louder shots that were presumably him firing back at Tristan's crew. "I've left the anchor hanging just below the waterline for now. It's slowin' us down a bit, but at least it'll help you find us."
"Thanks, Charlie," Ian said. "Just keep your head down. We'll be there soon." Suddenly he froze and shouted, "Cassie!"
Cassie turned in the direction he was looking just before a DPV slammed into her midsection, knocking the rifle from her hands, and she doubled painfully over the front of it as it dragged her through the water back toward the wreck. Stunned and with the wind knocked completely out of her, Cassie choked on her breath and scrambled for a hold on the slick metal that was driving into her stomach. The goon in control of the vehicle raised a diving knife, ready to plunge it into the back of her throat, and she mustered her strength to throw up an arm and deflect the blow. Having recovered slightly and finding a lip to hold on to, Cassie dug her fingers in and used the leverage to reach up and grab the back of the goon's mask, then slam his face into the back of the DPV. The movement caused them to swerve sharply downward and to the side, and Cassie looked over her shoulder to see that they were quickly coming up on the side of the shipwreck again.
"OH SHIT!" she yelped, sliding around the side of the vehicle so she didn't get impaled on impact. An instant later they struck the rail of De Figueroa's ship, smashed through the rotten wood, and were thrown into a confused jumble of limbs and a careening DPV. Cassie felt something on her side catch, and the bag holding the Smoking Mirror was ripped from the webbing of her belt. "No!" she yelled, watching it sink to the ocean floor as she tumbled into the mast.
"Cassie, are you okay?" Ian's voice came through to her.
Sprawled out in the junction of the mast and the deck, Cassie rolled over and picked herself up, drawing her knife as the Ocelotl goon approached her. "No," she reported. "I lost the mirror. It came off my belt when this asshole smashed us into the rail."
"I'll help you deal with him," Ian said, his voice fraying around the edges, "then we'll get the mirror and get back to the boat!"
Cutter picked that moment to weigh in on the conversation again. "Oi, I realize you kids are right well in it and all, but if I could offer my advice it's that whatever we're doing, we need to do it! NOW!" His exhortation was punctuated by yet more booming gunfire.
Cassie dropped down to put the mast in between her and her assailant as the goon fired his rifle, the dart lodging into the side of the cabin behind her. "There's no time, Foss," she told Ian. "Just grab the mirror and get to the boat. We can't risk Tristan's guys finding it!" She kicked her flipper-clad feet to stay in a safe area out of the line of fire. "If they do, our little rust bucket will never catch them and it's all over. I can take care of myself," she added, and hoped she sounded convincing.
There was a pause, then Ian answered, "I see the mirror. I'll grab it and get it to the boat. You be careful." The concern in his frazzled voice came through loud and clear.
Cassie was about to give a snappy comeback to reassure him she'd be fine when the goon suddenly appeared around the mast, jabbing his gun at her. Grabbing onto the spar, she yanked herself up and over it, feeling another dart swish past her legs as she did. The goon looked up as she appeared above him, and he used the side of his gun to block her attempt at stabbing him. Cassie dropped onto him, locking into combat as they drifted slowly down the sloping deck of the caravel. Cassie managed to get the hand with her knife free again, but in the process also let go of the goon's rifle, and as they both hit the lower rail of the ship and bounced off, she felt the barrel of the gun press into her stomach for a brief and terrifying moment. Twisting just as he fired, Cassie felt the dart cut through the neoprene of her SCUBA suit and slice along her stomach as it passed. She cried out in pain, then gritted her teeth and drove the tip of her knife into the first thing she saw, which happened to be the inside of the goon's elbow. Being (fortunately) not connected to Tristan's men through the communication devices in their helmets, Cassie couldn't hear what sounds the man made, but by the way he jolted to the side and dropped the rifle, she was guessing the injury she just inflicted must've hurt like hell.
"Payback's a bitch," she sniped, her satisfaction somewhat deflated when she realized that he couldn't hear her any more than she could hear him. As she and the goon sank into the silt on the ocean floor, Cassie broke free and kicked upwards, heading for the surface. "Alright," she said for the benefit of her partners. "I'm headed your way!" A general chorus of relief came from both Ian and Cutter, and Cassie struck out with strong, confident strokes toward the top. She was only just clearing the rail of the ship again when she felt a hand grab her ankle, stopping her mid-kick.
Looking down, she saw Tristan's goon holding her leg with one hand and his knife with the other. With blood streaming from his injured elbow, he pulled himself up and reached for Cassie's air tank. Her eyes went wide. "No!"
He moved fast, and before she could react he had cut the line running from her tank to her regulator. Horror washed over Cassie as she saw the stream of bubbles shooting out of the severed line and felt her own supply of oxygen suddenly cut off from her. The goon lifted himself to her level and grabbed her shoulder, turning her to face him. Oh my god, Cassie thought. This is it- there's no way I can make it up like this.
Under normal circumstances, a good breath would've been more than enough for her to make a one-hundred-and-fifty-foot ascent. As it was, though, Cassie not only had had virtually no warning before her air supply was cut, she also had a very heavy, very aggressive man to shake off before she could do anything- a battle that would easily consume what little oxygen she had left, if she could manage it at all. Terror washed over her as she came face to face with the goon- or at least as much as their respective masks would allow. Oh god, she thought, I can't even tell Foster and the others what happened without using up oxygen.
Then, to Cassie's surprise, the goon sheathed his knife, removed the regulator from his mouth, and held it out to her. Cassie froze in shock. What the hell? But her lungs were already burning, and she knew she couldn't pass up the offer if she wanted to survive. Cassie moved to put her own knife back in its sheath on her thigh, but the man caught her hand and took it from her with little resistance. Reaching up with both hands, Cassie ripped her mask off, took the regulator from him, and put it in her mouth, purging the water from it and greedily sucking in oxygen to fill her screaming lungs. The goon took it back from her when she had gotten her fill, then motioned for her to follow him. She thought about making a break for it, but knew that if she did the goon would just grab her again, and if he had to do it a second time, he might go straight to killing her. So, with no real options, Cassie did as he indicated.
Continuing to buddy-breathe as they worked their way around the wreck, the Ocelotl goon led her to where the DPV had landed earlier. When they reached it, he grabbed onto the handle with his uninjured arm and signaled for Cassie to do the same. Reluctantly, Cassie held onto the other side of the handle and allowed herself to be towed upwards with the goon, taking a breath from his regulator here and there as needed. She watched grimly as the water got brighter and clearer, knowing that in a matter of minutes she would be getting hauled aboard Tristan's ship and either held hostage or killed when they realized she didn't have the mirror.
They broke the surface alongside a small motorboat, and Cassie was not surprised to find herself staring down the barrels of multiple automatic rifles, each of which had a tattooed, snarling Ocelotl thug on the other end. She coughed and swiped wet strands of hair from her face, then waved sheepishly. "Hey guys. How's it goin'?"
Two burly thugs reached down and grabbed her under her arms, lifting her bodily from the water and into the boat. "Hey now, easy!" she protested. The thugs yelled at her in Spanish, but Cassie only caught bits and pieces of what they were saying. "Could you maybe talk a little slower?" she tried. "¿Habla más despacio?"
One of the goons yanked roughly on her diving tank, rocking the boat with the sudden movement. "Whoa! Okay, okay!" Trying to keep her balance in the boat, Cassie unclipped her BCD and shrugged it off her shoulders into the goon's hands. "Just ask nicely next time," she said, beginning to turn to face the very pushy man behind her, "and I'll-"
Something hard and heavy struck the back of Cassie's head with a sickening crack, and with a groan she crumpled into the bottom of the boat as everything went black.
For all my readers in the US, hope you had a good fourth of July weekend! For all of my readers outside the US, hope you also had a great weekend, doing whatever you were doing instead! :-D