The Project 02 - The Lance

hundred fifty feet now. Decompression stop."
    " I can swim."
    " You sure?"
    " Yeah, hook on to me, but let me go."
    Selena tethered him to her belt and let him go, ready to grab him if she had to.
    "Shadow. Can you hear me?"
    " Yeah, Nick. It's all right. We'll be up soon. I found something."
    When at last they reached the surface, Selena had never been so glad to see the blue sky above her.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

    "You might have a concussion." Nick held up three fingers. "How many?"
    "Three."
    "Good answer." Nick peered into his eyes. Both pupils were the same size.
    "I think you're good. But pay attention, will you?"
    "I'm fine Nick. It's just a bump on the head."
    Selena had changed into sweats and jacket and was sitting near the stern, watching the wake trail out behind.
    Lamont walked to the stern and sat down next to her. He looked out over the water, then down at the deck.
    "When I was a kid, I almost drowned."
    Selena waited.
    "It was a hot summer day. I was eight years old. My mom took me to the city park, to the pool. It was mobbed. Everyone was running around, rough housing, splashing each other. You know how kids are."
    "Sure."
    "There was this long line for the diving board. The water was twelve feet at the deep end and kids were piling off the board, one right after another. I got on the board, ran to the end and jumped. A big kid jumped in right behind and kicked me in the head. It knocked me out and I went right to the bottom. When I came to I was breathing water. Then everything got kind of peaceful and I started drifting down there, on the bottom of the pool."
    Lamont looked out over the South Atlantic.
    "I remember the paint on the bottom was blue and it was all chipped and cracked and there was this Baby Ruth candy wrapper stuck on the drain. It felt easy. I wasn't struggling or choking, just drifting in the water. Then someone grabbed me and pulled me out and dumped me on the cement by the pool. I never saw who it was, only a pair of feet walking away. Then my mom was yelling and pounding me on the back and I coughed up water and got sick."
    Lamont paused.
    "That pipe hitting me down there, it was like when that kid kicked me. I gotta tell you the truth, I wasn't sure about this when we went over the side, about having you down there. You know, Seals—we have our own way of doing things." He looked embarrassed. "Thanks for getting me out."
    " You'd have done the same."
    " Yeah, but thanks anyway."
    In the wheelhouse, Ronnie turned the pouch Lamont had found over in his hands.
    "Let's wait until we're back on shore to open it." Nick made a course adjustment.
    Ronnie set the pouch down. "Boats heading toward us." He pointed out over the water. The line of cliffs and beaches along the coast was still three or four miles away. Dark, low shapes were coming hard over the waves, throwing water behind them in a wide wake.
    Carter scanned them through his binoculars.
    " Three speed boats. Big engines. They're in some kind of hurry. Two men in each."
    The boats were headed straight for them.
    " You call for pizza, Ronnie?"
    " Don't think so."
    " Break out the weapons." Nick lowered the binoculars.
    Selena had come back to the wheelhouse. " How would anyone know what we were doing?" she asked.
    " We seem to be asking that question a lot these days. I don't know. But whoever they are, they're coming this way. They're not here for the fishing."
    Ronnie lifted MP-5s out of the weapons case. Lamont took one and inserted a 30 round magazine. He tapped the magazine with his hand to make sure it was seated. He racked the bolt and grabbed an ammo belt with five extra magazines.
    "Reminds me of the old days," he said. "I carried one of these for years."
    Nick moved the throttle forward and turned west. The speedboats altered course.
    " No doubt about it. They want to intercept us. They're a lot faster, they'll get here in a few minutes. Ronnie, you and Lamont cover the stern."
    Ronnie pulled an Airtronics RPG-7 launcher out of the case. It looked like a ray gun from a pulp science fiction novel. It had an elongated trumpet on one end, a large bulbous section in the middle and a black pistol grip and trigger in the front. He opened a knapsack with five rockets sticking out of it.
    "Latest stuff," he said. "Your basic Russian design but made in America with improvements. We're r eady to rock and roll. The guys in those boats are in for a little surprise."
    " Selena," Nick said. "You position yourself here in the