Fatal Containment

Fatal Containment - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

When Cheryl arrived at the doors for propulsion four, she was surprised to find two marine sentries guarding the door which was marked off with caution tape and floor signs indicating construction was in progress. She walked up to them and asked them to stand aside.

The marine on her left briefly eyed her lieutenant's bars on her sweatshirt.

"Begging the lieutenant's pardon, but this bay is down for maintenance. It's not safe to enter just yet, ma'am."

She lifted an eyebrow and looked both ways before answering. "I'm here for 'the cage', gentlemen."

The marines looked at each other briefly and she thought she saw a smile begin to form before the one on the left responded. He merely pointed to an access hatch that was on the upper portion of the deck. Cheryl climbed the access ladder and opened the hatch with a creak. As Cheryl stepped inside, she immediately noted that it was much darker than the large storage bay would normally be. It grew even darker as the door closed behind her. In the center of the bay, a large area had been marked off with caution tape strung between four metal poles that had been hastily bolted to the floor plates. The poles were wrapped in insulating foam and their tops were crowned with construction helmets that were similarly covered in hard rubber. It was clearly designed to be a makeshift arena.

There was a large number of crew present for this event, whatever it was. Many were off duty, but a few duty personnel were there as well, including the quartermaster and the damage control TSO. Cheryl had no idea what to expect as she pushed her way forward to get a better look.

The room had a hazy tint to it from cigarette and cigar smoke mingled with the smell of burnt engine grease. She looked around and saw two men about to enter the ring.

The first man had a short, stout build that was foreboding for anyone stepping into the ring with him. He was distinctive in his marine sleeveless shirt and black shorts. Cheryl recognized him as marine sergeant Klaust from the saboteur event in the cargo bay. The other was a navy man, also dressed in his PT uniform which was grey with navy blue shorts. Cheryl couldn't immediately place his name. Their shirts were moisture wicking, but sweat was already beginning to appear on each.

Apparently, there were some rules of conduct given by the coxswain, command master chief Joseph Jones. As Jones stepped out of the way, both men yelled their own battle cry and lunged into each other, both seeking purchase against the other. Klaust was bigger, but the other man was built closer to the ground. Cheryl knew about the existing grudge between services, and perhaps this is where they were able to take it out. There was a cacophony of cheers, shouts, boos, and other testosterone filled noises as the two combatants struggled to bring the other into submission on the floor. A mat was certainly an afterthought although neither seemed to care.

The larger man finally got the grip he wanted and leaned back with a herculean effort bringing the sailor down hard on his back. Cheryl leaned in and saw that a layer of latex was stretched out over the floor, probably over crate material, to perhaps give the floor a little give.

But the smaller man wasn't out of the fight. He kicked out with his large thigh muscles and managed to roll both men to a position where he could get some leverage. In doing so, the huge marine lost his grip and the navy man exploded onto his back and wrenched him around, slamming his head into one of the four poles that marked the boundary of the makeshift ring. Cheryl was certain that she heard the pipe ring like it had been struck with a wrench.

Are they just going to continue until they kill each other? Is that what this is about?

But as Cheryl leaned forward to see what was going on, Trevor appeared behind her and tapped her shoulder. Cheryl jumped as she turned, but he smiled and directed her to an area on the side with a slightly better view.