Chapter 11

Capt. Clement was pacing slowly in front of the quiet but wary Kate Minton. The strawberry blond who had graduated in the first Sweet SOU class, been a trusted friend of Monroe and McKeeson, Tracy's roommate through the long and grueling basic training course, was a murderer and a traitor. Clement resisted the temptation to beat her on the spot; she needed to know what Aziz knew.

"Maybe, I didn't make myself clear the last time, Kate," Clement mouthed the words through clenched teeth. "I want to know what Aziz knows. What he knows and when he got it." Kate looked away and smiled. "Minton, Katherine, Lieutenant, USN3400121," she quietly recited half mockingly. Suddenly, she was jerked to her feet and her shirt was ripped open revealing her large, round breasts through a thin laced bra. Clement shoved the surprised Kate roughly back into the chair. Quietly Clement warned Kate, "I don't think we have the time for your jokes right now. Marines, leave the room." she huffed to the 2 large jar heads. They immediately turned and left the room, closing the door behind them. "I think we need to communicate better," Clement turned to Kate and emotionlessly remarked. Kate suddenly felt cold and fearful.

She quickly weighed her options based on her analysis of what she was seeing. Clement was stone cold; they were alone; and Kate knew that Suzy Q knew how to inflict terrible pain if needed. It was plain Clement thought it was one of those times. On the other hand, she had accepted a lot of money from Aziz and his terrorists. Talk and she didn't stand a chance in hell. Talk and she'd be up for life in Leavenworth; talk and one of Aziz's men would end her life where ever she might be. Either way, the end would be slow and messy. Not something she wanted.

"Okay, Captain, okay." Kate bid for a few seconds. "I'll tell you what you want to know." She was lying. Her hands were still free; she shifted in her chair. Very quickly, she brought her right hand up to her mouth and bit the jewel of her Academy graduation ring. Kate loosened the amethyst and swallowed it and what was behind it easily; even as she did, Clement was rushing towards her, only 3 or 4 steps away, reaching for her mouth; trying to force whatever it was Kate was trying to swallow out before something happened. Too late.

Kate looked up at Capt. Susan Clement with a queer smile; her hands slipped limply down into her lap. Her bare upper body, square shoulders, broad and well-shaped bosom held by her thin laced bra seemed to soften. Then, just as suddenly, Kate Minton seemed to seize-up. Her body stiffened as Clement grabbed her head and tried to force her mouth open; all the while Kate looked at her captain with that queer smile. 2 convulsions, and suddenly Kate's body relaxed. A puddle formed underneath Kate Minton's body; it spread out over her khakis, spilled over the seat of the chair and dripped on to the floor.

Clement looked at the dead face of the traitor, the SOU girl gone bad. The pretty face was still and peaceful; the dead eyes still stared at Clement; the queer smile now tinged with bluing lips and blood trickling out of one corner of her mouth was still on her face. Kate's exposed upper body was already becoming pale, the breasts losing volume and firmness. In the fabric of the laced bra, small yellowish stains appeared over the nipples; the room filled with the smell of death. Clement opened the door and stepped out. The 2 marines rushed in, rushed out, and then were followed back in by a medic and 2 other SOU sisters. "She told me everything I need to know," Clement said softly. She looked at the senior SOU officer in Ft. Myers, Cmdr. Ruth Chapman. "Assemble your contingency team. We'll need to go in after Tracy. She's in trouble," Clement said flatly and in dead tones. Inside, Clement wanted to cry; to be a little girl and bawl.

Tracy dived. The rebreather was set and working. She was swimming free and coming into a soft glow of light as she dove deeper and deeper. The water was hot; it might have been 110 degrees. Like a real hot bath, it made the skin burn, then itch, then numb, then soften and relax. Tracy couldn't know it, but she was quickly overheating; her skin was becoming flushed. Still, she scissored her legs and pulled with her arms closer and closer to the source of the soft light. Her open and unprotected eyes were foggy from the fresh water and the heat; but she could tell there was a soft flow as she neared. Her full breasts undulated with every movement; her hair, still in a pony tail was soft and full and floating fee; her body, free of gravity, stretched in breathtaking beauty. It made her look more exciting, more deadly.

The light. It had to be the outlet tunnel for Aziz's power room. She was 42 and a half feet down. Below, the hot spring continued to sink into a black hole, but around her the water seemed to glow in a bluish light. Over the access tunnel was a grate. "Yank it off, Trace," Tracy thought to herself, "and you're in." Suddenly, she couldn't breath. Inhaling had brought the sensation of burning into her lungs and she spit the rebreather out while bubbling violently. "The rebreather," Tracy thought in near panic. "The heat's messed it up." Tracy quickly undid the device and let it fall free towards the dark void beneath. Her lungs burned. Frantically, she pulled at the grate. It loosened and slipped towards the bottom of the hole. She entered in towards the light and swam with all her might. No air; no time to surface. "Just make it to the other side," Tracy ordered herself. Her vision was becoming blurry; she was losing her sense of up and down. The passage was getting brighter and ahead a distorted image of an opening seemed to draw closer.

Tracy slipped into the light and air on the surface of the discharge pool. Actually, dimly lit, it was nonetheless brighter than any light she'd experienced for 12 hours. As she surfaced, she tasted the oily scum floating on the surface. Only after her head popped out of the water and she gasped the humid, smoggy air did she realize the deafening sound of the diesel engines generating power to Aziz's underground compound. Her coughing and sputtering wouldn't be heard above the whir of turbines and the chug-chug-chug of the motors. Beside her, hot water was being emptied into the pool by a large iron pipe. Around her was a square concrete basin. As her eyes cleared, she saw the rungs of a ladder embedded in the dirty concrete wall. It was rusty and grimy. In fact the dimly lit room was dark and oily in appearance. A single low watt bulb was the only light. Tracy shut off her hand held torch and slipped the strap off her wrist, placed it into a pocket on the side of her hip pouch and swam carefully towards the ladder. After making sure no one was around, she slowly climbed, the oily water running off her body in rivers, up and over the rail that enclosed the basin and quickly found a covered spot and fell behind it. "I'm in," she sniffed.