Think or Swim: Part I
"Zoo kay to bury 'er." The Iranian's English buzzed in Mao Kelly's earpiece. The Irishman nudged Ajani and the big Nigerian turned to see Kelly tap two fingers against the palm of his hand.
They were just two kilometres out from the Malaga barrier.
Forty minutes earlier, under a shroud of midnight darkness, the converted submersible vehicle that had formerly been the property of the British Royal Navy slid off the Moroccan coast, north of Ksar-es-Seghir. Now, it was nearing the drop point. Once discharged, the two passengers would swim around the underwater barricade and illegally enter the territory of the European United States Association.
Kelly had paid €300,000 for the trip but he still doubted that he'd ever touch the dry land of Spain. There were simply too many improbables. He didn't trust the Iranians who ran the mini-sub, and he wasn't convinced that the blueprint he'd downloaded in Essaouira claiming to show the location of the mines and sensors was genuine. The guy he'd dealt with on the grid said he was a Dutch engineer and that he'd worked on the EUSA project to build the Mediterranean fortifications that were meant to keep Africa from spilling under and over Europe's borders, once and for all.
Sure, he ran the scans on the image and it seemed to have been created no earlier than 2012, but it could have been sophisticated fakery. That's what ten grand usually bought you these days. Still, he transferred the money to the account in Belize after deleting the file. But not before he'd added the co-ordinates to his communicator.
"Wun kay to bury 'er." Kelly looked back at the Iranian, who sported the trademark post-Natanz facial disfigurations. What an insane world this is, he thought to himself. But it was the only one he knew and he longed to be in a calmer, cooler, wetter part of it. And if this didn't work out tonight, well, he'd soon be where his mother always believed he was going anyway.
A fragment of the prayer she'd taught him came back: "He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters." Kelly repeated the couplet silently and then transposed it: "He leads me beside still waters. He makes me lie down in green pastures." Yes. That'd be the proper sequence for tonight, tomorrow and the day after, he thought.
The sub began to slow, its hydraulic side thrusters making an almost imperceptible sound, and the three men in the command module focussed on the central screen. The Iranian tapped a few keys and, while the sonar pinged, a beam of fluorescent light slowly illuminated a swath of the sea floor that led to the barrier.
"Shit," said Ajani. The security mesh looked impenetrable.
