Submerged by Alton Gansky

Author:Alton Gansky
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, suspense, action adventure, christian fiction, tech thriller
Publisher: Alton Gansky

Perry stepped from the last rung and directed his flashlight around him. He was standing in a concrete cell ten feet wide and thirty long. He moved to the far end to allow room for the others. They came down, one by one, Jack making the descent last. The big man had more trouble than the others, his heavy backpack making the climb down all the more difficult.

“I hope there’s an elevator back up.” Jack groaned. “If not, Gleason is carrying my pack.”

“I doubt we will be taking anything back,” Perry said. “Let’s get some more flashlights working in here.”

Gleason and Jack complied.

“Sorry,” Janet said. “I left mine in the car.”

“Mine’s at my campsite,” Carl added.

“Three will have to do.” Perry shone his light around. “All right, Dr. Zeisler. What next?”

“I don’t know.”

Perry turned the light on him. “What do you mean, you don’t know? This was your call.”

“I’ve never been down this entrance. Your father told me about it a year later.”

“Swell,” Gleason said. “For all we know, this is a dead end.”

Perry searched the room with his light, letting it trace every square foot of wall and floor, but saw nothing but solid concrete. “What am I missing?”

“Maybe your pal here dreamed all this,” Carl said.

“Don’t you have a speed trap to work or something?” Zeisler snapped. “You weren’t part of this mission to begin with.”

“That’s enough,” Perry ordered. “Focus on the job at hand. Dr. Zeisler was right about the overflow ducts and the ladder. There’s no reason to doubt him now.” Perry paused. “This looks familiar.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Janet said. “How can a concrete box with no doors look familiar?”

“The sketch,” Perry mumbled.

“What sketch?” Carl asked. Perry told him of the photos and the vague sketch he had found at his father’s home.

“It must be important if he locked it away in a safe,” Carl said. “Do you have it?”

“Yes.” Perry extracted the folded paper from his back pocket and held it against the concrete wall. Gleason shone his light on it.

Carl pressed closer. “No offense to your father, but it’s not a very good drawing.”

“My father is an excellent draftsman,” Perry said. “That’s what bothers me about this. It’s just a few crudely drawn lines.”

“In that case, he must have drawn it that way on purpose,” Janet suggested. “A way of keeping it secret.”

Perry studied the drawing. It was a rectangle—no, a trapezoid—narrower on one end than the other. The room they were in was the same shape. Perry’s brain chewed the information. Inside the trapezoid was another box. Perry examined the floor again but saw nothing. Once again he examined the walls. Again nothing. Then it hit him. He looked up.

“Got it.”

“What?” Gleason asked.

“It’s similar to a reflected ceiling plan.” Perry’s architecture training surfaced. “When an architect creates working drawings for a building he starts with the floor plan. A floor plan is a downward view, as if someone has taken the roof off the building and is gazing down at the walls and fixtures.

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