Pressure by Brian Keene Read Free Book Online Page B

like a wave. She had a brief moment of dizziness, but quickly concealed it from Paolo. A car horn honked from the curb, loud enough to startle her.
    â€œAre you okay?” Paolo asked.
    Carrie nodded as they walked out onto the sidewalk. “I’m fine, thanks. Just a little tired, still.”
    â€œYou should get some rest.”
    â€œAnd miss all this?” She gestured at the sweltering, bustling street. “Besides, you know me. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
    â€œThat’s what I’m worried about,” Paolo smiled. “So, when are we diving?”
    â€œI haven’t agreed to your terms.”
    His smile vanished. “Then, I’m very sorry. You leave me with no choice but to inform our superiors at Alpinus, for both our sakes. I do not imagine they will react favorably, nor will the broader scientific community. Our peers…”
    He trailed off, shrugged, and made a sad, pitying expression.
    Carrie clenched her fists at her side. “Goddamn it … okay. I’d planned on going tonight, if the press has cleared off by then.”
    â€œThey won’t be. Tomorrow would be better.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause you’re exhausted. You just said so yourself. You know how dangerous it is to dive when tired. Plus, if you wait until tomorrow, then you can have more to eat today.”
    Although she was frustrated, Carrie couldn’t help but laugh at this.
    â€œTomorrow,” Paolo repeated. “Then you’ll have more light.”
    â€œI can work without light. I can’t work with reporters following our every move and getting in the way.”
    â€œIt’s not just them you have to worry about.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Carrie asked.
    â€œYou’ll need a different, lower profile craft. And tell Abhi he can’t leave straight from the Novak. He’ll need to go elsewhere first.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause the Novak is under surveillance.”
    â€œWhat? By who? Reporters?”
    â€œNo, it’s not the press. This is something … different. I’m not sure who they are, to be honest. Spies from an intelligence service, or perhaps a rival corporation. Those seem to be the most likely suspects.”
    â€œHow do you know this? How do you know it’s under surveillance?”
    â€œBecause when my father ran afoul of Pinochet, he taught my entire family anti-surveillance techniques that I never forgot. Sometimes they come in quite handy.”
    â€œMaybe so. But they also make you sound paranoid.”
    â€œPerhaps. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. And I’m not.”
    He said it in his brief, off-handed way that, at different times in her life, Carrie had seen as alternatingly smug, sexy, infuriating, or endearing. Now, she saw it as simply annoying. But despite her annoyance, Carrie was secretly relieved at Paolo’s relative cooperation, and the prospect of having him along below the surface.
    She still wasn’t sure what she had seen on her last dive, but she knew that whatever it was, she didn’t want to be down there alone.

 
    FOUR
    Carrie arrived at the wharf the next morning. It was located in a less-trafficked, disused section of the harbor, surrounded by leaning tin shacks, vacant storage buildings whose outer walls were covered with graffiti and gray-black mildew, and decrepit marinas that looked ready to fall into the sea. It was a depressing, unwholesome sight, but it was also far away from the research flotilla, for which she was grateful. There was no chance of a reporter finding them here. Most of the press corps had indeed moved on to other parts of the world and other stories, leaving behind only a few stringers, all of whom were spending their time on the island, rather than at sea. Mindful of Paolo’s paranoid warning, she’d paid attention to her surroundings, making sure she wasn’t followed. Doing so had been