Part 55 (1/2)

Second's later, Zak's explosives detonated with a jolt. The explosion reverberated through the empty holds of the barge like a thunderstorm in a bottle. Instantly, the commandos and Polar Dawn's crew were on their feet, wondering what had happened.

”Captain Murdock,” Roman called out, turning on his penlight.

Murdock shuffled forward, a haggard look to his eyes from a lack of sleep.

”Speculation?” Roman asked quietly.

”Sounded well aft. I suggest we go take a look.”

Roman agreed. Then seeing the apprehensive look in the faces of the nearby men, he called over to Bojorquez.

”Sergeant, get back to work on that hatch. I'd like some fresh air in here before breakfast.”

Moments later, the stocky sergeant was pounding away at the locked hatch again with his small hammer. The clanging racket, Roman hoped, would give the men a small lift while masking the sound of whatever was happening aft.

Roman led Murdock to the open stern hatchway and s.h.i.+ned his light over the threshold. A steel-rung ladder led straight down into an empty black void.

”After you, Captain,” Murdock said curtly.

Roman slipped the penlight between his teeth, then grabbed the top rung and slowly started climbing down. Though not afraid of heights, he found it unnerving to climb into a seemingly bottomless black hole inside a rolling s.h.i.+p.

The bottom rung seemed elusive, but after a forty-foot drop he reached the base of the number 1 hold. s.h.i.+ning his light at the foot of the ladder, Murdock appeared right behind him. A rock solid man just over sixty, the gray-bearded captain was not even breathing hard.

Murdock led the way across the hold, startling a pair of rats that somehow flourished even in the bitter cold.

”Didn't want to say it in front of the men but that sounded like an onboard explosion to me,” he said.

”My thoughts as well,” Roman replied. ”Do you think they mean to sink us?”

”We'll know soon enough.”

The two men found another steel ladder on the opposite side of the hold, which they climbed up to a short pa.s.sage that led to the number 2 hold. They repeated the process twice more, crossing the next two holds. As they climbed up the far side of the third hold, they could hear a distant sound of slos.h.i.+ng water. Reaching the last pa.s.sageway, Roman scanned the number 4 hold with his light.

On the opposite corner, they spied a small river of water streaming down the bulkhead, splas.h.i.+ng into a growing pool below. The explosion had left no gaping hole in the side of the hull but rather created a series of buckled steel plates that let the water seep in like a broad sieve. Murdock studied the damage and shook his head.

”Nothing we can do to slow that down,” he said. ”Even if we had the proper materials, it's too widely dispersed.”

”The water inflow doesn't look too extreme,” Roman said, searching for something positive.

”It will only get worse. The damage appears to be just above the waterline, but the rough seas are spilling in. As the hold fills, the barge will begin to settle by the stern, allowing more water to rush in. The flooding will only accelerate.”

”But there's a hatch on the pa.s.sageway that we can lock. If the water is confined to this hold, shouldn't we be all right?” Roman asked.

Murdock pointed overhead. Ten feet above their heads, the bulkhead ended, replaced by a series of support beams that rose several more feet to the overhead deck.

”The holds are not watertight compartments,” he said. ”When this hold floods, it will spill over into the number 3 hold and keep moving forward.”

”How much flooding can she withstand?”