Just then the pressure chamber juddered. Someone was obviously trying to open the hatch. “Now I’m done for,” flashed through Arefiev’s head. At that very moment one of the camouflaged figures aimed his pistol at the glass panel.
“Don’t shoot,” the other stopped him. “There are canisters everywhere. All it takes is a stray ricochet and we’ll be blown to pieces.”
“But I can’t open it,” the first retorted.
“There’s no-one in there. That’s where they keep rags.”
Little Milla closed her eyes as tightly as she could and didn’t dare breathe, even though there was no longer anyone in the room. They lay in the silence for another five minutes and then Arefiev threw the jacket off his head and tried to open the hatch. He couldn’t.
It’s got stuck, he realised and a wave of despair swept over him
