Seconds later, the diver
released his backpack. Ben put an arm around him from behind,
keeping the man tightly against him. They hit the bottom, Ben
on his knees, still behind the other diver, both of them swathed
in kelp. In desperation the man shook himself and pried at Ben’s
fingers, but he was growing weak. The entire harness for the tank
and back pack was loose. The man was still strong enough to get
clear. Ben grabbed the diver’s hood, pulled it off his head
and used it as a handle. They stayed down.
The man tried his BC again
but merely blew clouds of bubbles through the knife slit. Out
came a knife. Ben saw it coming in time to bring his own knife
up and slash the arm. Then he grabbed the diver’s knife
hand and the weakened attacker lost his grip on the knife.
In seconds all struggle
went out of the man and he started to convulse. Ben cut loose
the weight belts dangling from the lines, along with the pump
clipped to his own belt, and hacked away at the kelp. They ascended
with the buoyancy of the man’s wet suit and the neoprene
of Ben’s own dry suit.
As they rose, a horrible thought came
to Ben. If Frick were behind this, then he or another accomplice
might be waiting at the surface. Or in Ben’s office in the
Sanker Foundation. Or outside. Ben would be no match for anyone
on the dock. He slipped under his assailant and pushed him to
the surface, remaining below his body the whole time. The mass
of kelp should keep anyone on the dock from spotting Ben. He waited.
Nobody came to the dying man’s aid. If he’d had helpers,
hopefully they’d fled when their part of the job was over.
At the dock, Ben let go of the unconscious
man and pulled himself onto an Octopus feeding platform at the
edge of the water. Then he pulled him onto the planking and rolled
him on his back.
Ben’s assailant was the new lab
tech. Surprise, surprise. Ben breathed into the man’s mouth
until the diver choked, spit up water, and began robust coughing.
