deep hum intensified and divided into several tones, a collection of dronish whirring and high-pitched spinning. And something else joined the mix. It was more physical than audible. Stratton could feel it in his temples: a significant pressure wave produced by powerful turbines.
The boulders began to resonate as the pressure waves explored the gaps between them. The metal frame tingled against Stratton’s skin.
He tipped his head back in the hope of catching sight of the vessel as it broke through the gloom. He couldn’t see it despite the horrendous noise and intense shuddering that gave the impression the craft was already upon him.
A dark shape suddenly emerged from the greyness, heading directly at him. A dense broadening shadow followed it. Both were part of the same object.
The boulder Stratton lay on began to judder, its sand deposits agitating as if on the skin of a vibrating drum. The sound became almost deafening and the cutting edge of the vessel’s bows crossed directly above him with a high-pitched seething sound.
Stratton’s body vibrated along with everything else as he trained the recorder’s optics directly above him, doing his best to keep the device steady. He felt the pressure on his chest increase as the tons of water displaced by the vessel pushed him down.The greatest danger was still to come - the propellers. He hastily tightened the strap across his head even more and gripped the sides of the recorder, holding it firmly against his face. His brain felt as if it was being puréed inside his skull.
As the vibrations increased the keel flattened out at either side of Stratton like a vast dark pitted ceiling that he could reach if he stretched out a hand. He felt insignificant beneath it. A short drop and it would erase him as if he was an insect.
The straps of the harness grew tighter as the pressure forced him upwards towards the Inessa’s hull, the propellers like a massive vacuum cleaner hungrily sucking in anything ahead of them. Shale and debris whirled around, spinning in the vortex. Stratton groaned as the harness bit into him. A square recess, like a dark doorway into the hull, shot past his vision. Another larger opening followed. Stratton was beyond evaluating anything other than his own ability to survive.
The lower corner of the frame snapped free. The whole frame wriggled and creaked as if it was threatening to buckle. It jolted even more brutally and the bolt on the opposite corner broke away too and Stratton’s legs jerked up towards the hull. He could do nothing to control it.
The turbulence reached a screaming crescendo as the propellers closed on him. Shale and stones spun around as if inside a blender. The frame rattled as the blades sliced through the water, growing closer by the millisecond. This had suddenly become the craziest stunt he had ever agreed to. The propellers seemed to be lower than his head and would smash against the boulder. Then they were above him, the turbulence unbelievable as the huge blades carved through the water inches past his face.
A second later they were through. But something dealt a vicious blow to one of Stratton’s feet and he felt sure it had been severed. He felt no pain but he had seen men lose limbs in battle and not know it. The fin swirled past his head but he could not see if his foot was attached.
The Inessa was not done with him.The force of the water coming through the propellers was so intense that the frame’s centre bolt now gave way, quickly followed by one of the top corners. It flipped him over, the frame bending against the last remaining bolt. Stratton stared down into the gap between the boulders.
Standing on the bows of the Inessa, two Spetsnaz commandos watched the swirling water churned up by the propellers. One of the men squinted into the darkness as he saw a rubbery black object surface in the frothing wake. It glinted for a second in the moonlight. He shouted to his comrade who aimed a powerful light towards it. The first man took a closer look through a pair of electronically stabilised binoculars. The object floated briefly before sinking out of sight. The soldier hurled a small buoy off the back to mark the position and talked into a radio. A semirigid speedboat was a few hundred yards behind the ship and he waved at it as he gave the coxswain instructions.