Chapter 21 #3
He forced his attention back to the grid and closed the jaws of the bolt cutters around the metal. First, he needed to know what the hell was wrong. Then he could figure out how to get them both out of it.
“Ambra Two, this is TOC, go ahead.” Max’s response came immediately through comms.
Zenko stayed twisted enough to keep Shaun in his peripheral vision while bracing the bolt cutters against the grid. Whatever had triggered that alarm, he wanted eyes on Shaun while Max dealt with the report.
Shaun shifted behind him, bringing his gauges up where he could see them.
“TOC, Ambra Two, can you confirm my air levels from your side?” The display showed fifty percent remaining, and even as Zenko watched, the number dropped again.
His stomach fucking dropped. Air. Of all the things that could have gone wrong inside this stupid pipe, it had to be Shaun’s air.
They still had almost a klick to swim before they reached the compound, never mind getting back out again, and that number was falling far too freaking fast. His first instinct was to turn around and get Shaun out of the water, but the distance behind them wasn’t much better than the distance ahead.
Worse, the pump timer was still counting down.
Zenko forced his attention back to the grid and tightened both hands around the bolt cutters. Whatever happened next, he needed to get them through this fucking obstruction first.
“Something’s not right, Ambra Two. I’m showing you at forty-five percent air,” Max reported through comms. “There could be something caustic in the water screwing with the seals on your gear.”
Shaun checked his gauges again, his attention locked on the falling numbers. “Roger that. I confirm, and levels are still dropping.”
Zenko forced his attention away from Shaun’s gauges long enough to check his own. If Max was right and something in the water was attacking the seals, his rig should be going the same way. His numbers looked steady, but he wanted confirmation from TOC before he trusted them.
“TOC, Ambra One. Check mine, too.”
“Already done, Ambra One,” Max immediately responded. “Your gauges are holding steady.”
Zenko stared at his gauges for another second, willing the numbers to change and prove Max wrong.
They didn’t move. His air was holding exactly where it should be while Shaun’s continued to disappear behind him.
So much for something in the water fucking with the seals.
If that were the problem, both their rigs should be failing.
A colder possibility settled into his gut as he looked back at Shaun.
Someone could have screwed with the diving gear.
Whether Shaun’s rig had been deliberately targeted, whether one of them had simply grabbed the wrong rig, or whether something else had gone catastrophically wrong, Zenko didn’t know.
Right now, it didn’t fucking matter. Shaun was running out of air inside a pipeline almost a klick from the compound, and he needed to get him through this grid.
Zenko wrapped the jaws of the bolt cutters around the mesh and squeezed until the metal gave beneath them.
He repositioned the cutters and went after the next section, every snip accompanied by Max calling out another drop in Shaun’s air.
He wanted to turn around and put his hands on Shaun, check the rig himself, and somehow fix what was happening, but there was nothing he could do for him while that grid stood between them and the fastest way out of the water.
So Zenko kept cutting, forcing every ounce of fear clawing through him into getting the fucking obstruction out of their way.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, come on.
He reset the jaws around another section of mesh and put everything he had into the cutters. The grid resisted for another second before the metal finally started to give.
Hurry the fuck up.
Finally, the mesh gave enough for him to force the cut section back and make a gap wide enough to get through.
He shoved the bolt cutters out ahead of him and wriggled through into the larger pipe, turning the second he was clear to find Shaun.
He needed to see him, needed to know how he was holding up while his air continued to disappear.
“TOC, Ambra One, do you copy?”
“Go ahead, Ambra One.” Max’s response came immediately through comms.
Zenko’s attention snapped back to Shaun as he ripped his mask off, and the panic on his face made his blood run cold. Shaun didn’t panic. He especially didn’t let anyone see it when he did, which told him more than any fucking gauge could about how bad this was.
“TOC, Ambra One, what are Ambra Two’s backup tank levels showing?”
“Ambra One, TOC, confirming Ambra Two’s backup tank is also showing depleted,” Max reported through comms.
Fuck.
Zenko swore in every creative language he knew and was pretty sure he invented a few more as he reached through the opening in the grid for Shaun.
Primary and backup were both gone. Shaun had no air of his own, but he did, and every hour they had spent drilling the buddy system during BUD/S came roaring back.
He caught Shaun by the front of his gear and dragged him through the cut mesh into the larger pipe, getting him onto his side of the junction and within reach. Panic could come later. Right now, Shaun needed him to remember every single thing he had ever learned.
“TOC, Ambra One, Ambra Two’s rig is dead. I repeat, Ambra Two has a dead rig.”
He ripped his own mask off and shoved the mouthpiece between Shaun’s lips, keeping one hand locked around the back of his neck until Shaun took the first breath, and then another.
Fuck, breathe, babe. Just fucking breathe.
Zenko watched him drag air into his lungs and fought the urge to pull him closer, because there wasn’t room for fear or anything else in here. Shaun had air now, and that was all that mattered.
Max was still talking through the earpiece, but with Zenko’s mask down at his feet, he had no way to answer TOC until they were out of the pipeline and he could get to the backup comms unit in his dry pack.
“Ambra One, this is TOC, how copy? Ambra One, report.” Max’s voice continued through his earpiece, the demand sharpening when Zenko didn’t answer.
He pushed Max’s voice into the background and forced himself to concentrate on Shaun and the buddy system that was going to get them the hell out of this pipe.
He gave Shaun a couple more breaths from his tank, watching until some of the panic left his face before taking the mouthpiece back and drawing the air his own lungs were demanding.
Then he put it straight back between Shaun’s lips.
They would swim for as long as he could safely manage between breaths, pass the mouthpiece back and forth, and keep moving.
He could be scared later, when Shaun was standing somewhere dry with all the air in the fucking world around him.
“Shit, are they just holding their breaths?” Roman’s voice came faintly through comms from somewhere behind Max. He kept his attention on Shaun, waiting until he saw him finish another breath before taking the mouthpiece back.
“I think they’re sharing Ambra One’s air,” Max answered, his voice carrying through comms. “They’re still moving, and they’ve got just over three hundred yards to go. They’ll make it.”
He hoped Max was right. He took another breath and immediately passed the mouthpiece back to Shaun, watching his lips close around it before pushing forward again. Three hundred yards. That was all. He could get Shaun three hundred fucking yards. He refused to consider any other outcome.
Their trackers were still transmitting, and the diver’s lights gave the body cams enough visibility for TOC to follow their progress without him having to report every yard.
He pushed forward through the pipe, listening for Shaun behind him whenever the mouthpiece was his and feeling for the movement of water against his fins when it wasn’t.
Every kick told him Shaun was still there. Still moving. Still with him. For now, that was enough to keep the fear from getting its claws any deeper.
“Ambra One, this is TOC,” Max cut through his concentration. “Less than forty yards to go. Pumps are coming back online in fifteen seconds. Move your asses.”
He put on a burst of speed, immediately felt his fins thump into Shaun behind him, and hated that there wasn’t time to stop and check him.
Fifteen seconds. Less than forty yards. He could stop long enough to pass the mouthpiece back again, or he could get them to the exit before the pumps came online and the current took the decision away from both of them.
He pushed harder, lungs already beginning to burn as he searched the darkness ahead.
Please let there be a fucking grid on this side.
There.
The exit.
He kicked upward, fighting the water as the ache in his chest sharpened into the desperate need to breathe. A few more fucking feet. His lungs were screaming by the time his head finally broke the surface, and he dragged in air before looking up.
Halle-fucking-lujah.
A grid top.
He spun in the water and reached for Shaun, needing his hands on him after spending those last yards relying on nothing more than the movement behind him to know he was still there.
His hand closed around the back of Shaun’s neck the second he surfaced, and relief hit hard enough to make his grip tighten. Shaun was here. Breathing. Alive.
There wasn’t enough room between the water and the grid above them to do what he wanted and run his hands over every fucking inch of him, so he pulled Shaun closer instead and pressed their foreheads together while they dragged air into their lungs.
For a few precious seconds, he let himself hold on.