Chapter 21: Breaking Out of Hell (Part 1)

June 2, the Pacific Ocean.

Apart from the floating island of Tiandu and Hell Island twenty nautical miles to its east, the Empire maintained five naval fortresses in this ocean. The closest to the imperial seat of power was Naval Fortress One in the central Pacific. The Royal Fleet's entire elite force was assembled there, and the fortress also housed nuclear weapons.

At nine that morning, a telephone rang in the office of the fortress's supreme commander, General Andrew. He instinctively reached for the phone on his desk. When he picked it up, however, all he heard was a busy signal. The ringing continued.

His expression changed abruptly. He turned stiffly toward the other telephone in the corner of the room, scarcely able to believe his eyes and ears.

But there was no mistaking the flashing red light on that phone.

“Andrew speaking,” he said as soon as he picked up.

Only two voices could ever come through this line. One belonged to the emperor, Wittstock V; the other to Jefferson, the current warden of Tidal Prison.

“This is Jefferson. Do you recognize my voice?”

“Yes, but I'll still need the security password.”

“Ship in a bottle.” Jefferson gave the password immediately.

“What are your instructions?” Andrew asked.

“Please launch a nuclear strike on Hell Island as soon as possible.” Jefferson's tone was steady. He certainly did not sound as though he was joking.

Andrew was silent for several seconds. “This is an extremely serious matter. I'll need to seek authorization from Tiandu.”

“This falls within my authority,” Jefferson added.

“I understand, but a nuclear strike will affect Tiandu as well. I have to report to my superiors before carrying it out.”

“Then as soon as this call ends, use this phone to contact the emperor. Tell him the prison is completely out of control and we need to deploy two nuclear bombs immediately...”

“What did you say?” Andrew interrupted. “Two? On the same location? At sea?”

“Yes,” Jefferson said. “One nuclear bomb may not kill every prisoner here. You can imagine the consequences if even a handful of ability users or mutants capable of surviving a nuclear strike leave the prison and return to the outside world.”

Cold sweat was already running down Andrew's forehead. “Do you know what you're doing, Warden?”

As though it were the most natural thing in the world, Jefferson replied, enunciating every word, “Stand fast at your post. Die for your country.”

Andrew did not know whether those words were an order to him or a declaration of Jefferson's own resolve. Either way, the call ended there.

Andrew allowed himself little time to stand there stunned. His aging limbs pumping, he rushed to his desk and called the fortress command center. “This is General Andrew. We have an emergency. Red alert. All fortress personnel are to prepare for combat. Whoever's in the monitoring room, establish a satellite link immediately. I want an overhead image of Hell Island within three minutes! Send a few submarines over to check the situation underwater as well. Keep your distance. Don't get too close. We may be receiving orders for a nuclear strike shortly.”

The personnel of Naval Fortress One felt as though a tornado had swept through their brains, short-circuiting them all for a moment. Only when the command center began issuing orders to the officers of each department did they grasp the gravity of the situation.

Andrew did indeed speak to the emperor and received an unequivocal yes.

Within minutes, the imperial court was in turmoil as well. While scrambling to convene an emergency meeting, the ministers activated Tiandu's emergency evacuation plan, and the floating island prepared to move west. Tiandu could withstand nuclear weapons, but there was no harm in getting farther away...

Andrew hung up and hurried to the command center. The sight that greeted him as he entered left him stunned. An officer holding a telephone receiver turned around. “General, we were just about to call your office...”

Andrew waved a hand to show there was no need to explain. He could see for himself.

He approached the command center's computer screen step by step, staring at the satellite images. Hell Island had risen from the seabed! Impossible! The ocean currents had always shifted once every nine days without fail. Tomorrow should have been the day the waters receded to reveal Hell Island. How could it have emerged from the sea a day early?

A closer look showed that more than just the top of the island had emerged from the depths. Hell Island was rising into the sky, already well above its normal elevation. What they were witnessing was not the periodic drop in sea level in those waters, but the ascent of an enormous landmass...

...

Three that morning, somewhere beneath the sea.

A black submarine was speeding toward Hell Island.

The pitch-black depths were like another universe. Lights had been installed around the submarine's hull specifically to keep schools of fish or enormous sea creatures from colliding with it in the darkness.

The sword-shaped submarine was ten meters high, eight meters wide and ninety-eight meters long, capable of speeds exceeding fifty knots. Its outer armor was made of dark alloy. It moved silently underwater, undetectable by either radar or sonar.

On the submarine's bridge, Gunsmith occupied the commander's throne. To his left, inside a spherical compartment, Sorcerer faced a control screen that spanned a hundred and twenty degrees, working away as though he were having a seizure. Marshal sat at the console to Gunsmith's right. Gu Wen, Accountant, Gambling Snake, Darkwater, Spayton and Stranger were all on the bridge as well. Gu Wen was even darting about with keen interest, as though touring a spaceship.

“We've still got three or four hours before we arrive. Do all of you have to stand here watching?” Gunsmith asked.

“What else is there to do? Go back to sleep for a few hours?” Gu Wen said.

“If you've got time to watch, you could help us keep an eye on the instrument readings. Plenty of them aren't being monitored,” Marshal said in his child's voice.

“Can't read them,” Spayton replied without hesitation.

Gu Wen, meanwhile, said something that was practically begging for a slap. “Got a Gundam aboard? If you do, I can pilot it. With my skills, I'd leave nt in the dust.”

Gunsmith turned to look at him with complete seriousness. “Even if there were one, I'd be the one piloting it.”

“Oh? There really is one?” Gu Wen's face lit up.

Just then, Tian Yi's voice came over the intercom. “Attention, colleagues. The operation is scheduled to begin today, June 2, at eight in the morning. By my reckoning, the excitement you felt when boarding the boat over in South America should have more or less worn off by now.”

“You give them far too much credit!” Gunsmith called.

“All right, all right...” Tian Yi said. “In any case, you need to be more careful from this point on. We can't rule out detection by a naval fortress, so switch to stealth mode. I'll contact you again before the operation begins.”