by David Wood
Bones’ eyes bugged out at the directness of the questions. But once again, the television crew’s representative seemed unfazed by the line of inquiry. Why shouldn’t they be open when they had no reason to believe anyone would want the capsule more than they did?
“We’re in the middle of some last minute prep work now, but weather permitting we’re looking at starting the actual salvage tomorrow morning. I’d advise you give us a wide berth. Never know what might go wrong.”
Dane and Bones exchanged a concerned glance, and Dane said off air, “I was hoping we’d have a day or two to get a feel for the situation, but if they’re going to try and raise the Liberty Bell tomorrow then we’ve got to do something tonight.”
Bones gave a heavy sigh. The people backing their orders had acted just in time. He nodded.
Dane resumed his radio exchange. “Good luck and thanks for the heads up. We’ll stay out of your way. Oh, one more question if you have a second?”
Bones gave a silent laugh. Dane was really pushing the intel gathering, but they were short on time, so why not?
“Go ahead.”
“Is that other ship about a mile to your southeast part of your operation also?”
“Negative. They’re part of a separate salvage operation diving on a shipwreck. You’d have to ask them exactly what they’re up to. Back to work here, good luck fishing. Catch a couple for me.”
Dane gave a pleasant sign-off and hung up the radio transmitter. “They didn’t say what kind of shipwreck they were diving or make any mention of treasure,” Dane noted.
“Probably figured they’d told us enough. More than I would have guessed.”
Dane agreed. “Here are our options the way I see them: One, we make a dive on the capsule tonight. Hopefully the TV crew takes a break at night, but we can’t count on that since it doesn’t get any darker three miles underwater.”
Bones squinted through the binoculars’ optics. “They don’t show any signs of slowing down from this distance. I see cranes moving, work lights on…”
“Two, we see if we can stealth-board the ship, then steal the nuke when and if they bring it aboard. Let them do the work, we steal the spoils.”
Bones made a face. “Sketchy, bro.”
Dane nodded. “Or three, we check out what’s going on over at the shipwreck salvage operation.”
“What for?”
Dane shrugged. “Something to do while we decided which of the first two to do. Test out the gear on something not quite as critical.”
“But the TV guys could see us doing that and then our cover’s blown right out of the water.”
“True. Just thinking through our options.”
“The easiest thing would be if we dove on the capsule ourselves and plucked the nuke from it on the first dive.”
“That does sound pretty easy. Night launch a submersible, dive three miles down, pick up a nuclear bomb inside a lost space capsule. Bring it back to the boat undetected.” Dane rolled his eyes.
“Relatively easy. Would you rather scuba dive at night a half mile or so from our boat to theirs, climb aboard undetected, hide out until they raise the capsule. Somehow get what’s inside it without them knowing and bring it back to our ship?” Bones returned Dane’s eye roll with interest. “And checking out the shipwreck. That’s probably the easiest, but it doesn’t really help us achieve our objective.”
“Right, so take a look.” Dane pointed to a GPS display in the console. “We motor another quarter mile closer to the Ocean Explorer and then we go for it.
Bones nodded. “I’ll head down and get things set up.”
A quarter-mile from the Science Channel ship, Dane engaged the auto-pilot to keep the vessel in a fixed position. So far he still saw only the same two vessels, and no one had made any contact with him since the initial radio call from the Ocean Explorer. He stepped out of the wheelhouse and into the cool evening air. Looking out over the water, he was pleased to note that the sea was relatively calm.
He descended the short flight of stairs down to the work deck where he pushed open a door that led to a seafood processing area. Retracing the route Captain Epson had show him in port, Dane then opened what looked like the door to a walk-in freezer. Behind its doors, however, lay not an ice encrusted fish box, but a tightly wound spiral staircase leading down. He descended the ladder-like structure, clutching the rail for support against the motion of the boat until he came out on a flat area belowdecks.
Well lit by ceiling mounted fluorescents, the space offered no view to the world above—no portholes, skylights, or doors. It did offer a different kind of view, however, and that portal dominated the center of the veiled space.
Known as a “moon pool,” the unique vessel design featured a circular hole cut directly in the boat’s hull, through which the ocean was directly accessible. The bottom of the pool could be sealed with a door while underway, and the sides of the pool protruded into the vessel in an extended lip. Dane heard the lapping of water against steel as he strode toward the watery aperture.
Bones was already here, fussing over the centerpiece of the room: a two-person submersible suspended from a crane a few feet above the water that swayed slightly within the moon pool’s perimeter. The words Deep Black were stenciled inconspicuously on the black metal undercarriage that supported the cabin.
“Check out our sweet new ride,” Bones said.
“The name fits. What do you think of her?” Dane asked as he walked over to the moon pool.
“It’s a lot like the one we trained on.” Bones rapped his knuckles on the underwater vehicle’s clear dome. “It does have something a little extra, though.” He pointed underneath the sub’s belly. The feature was out of sight from Dane’s vantage point, but because of Epson’s tour, he had a pretty good idea of what it was.
“Weapons package?”
Bones grinned broadly. “We’ve got a six-pack of short-range, underwater-to-underwater missiles.”
“How about the manipulator arms?” Dane asked, wanting to deflect discussion of possibly having to use the craft’s lethal weapons against a ship full of clueless science and history buffs.
“Both grab-arms checked out perfectly. I could lift a girl’s skirt like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“Please don’t.”
Dane circled the sub, appraising the craft that would take them three miles below the ocean, the machine upon which their life and mission success would depend. They went through a thorough checklist of safety related items, checking battery charge states, oxygen tank levels, carbon dioxide scrubbers, fire extinguishers and so forth. Once these checks were satisfactorily completed, Dane climbed into the pilot’s seat.
“Ready?”
“Let’s take her for a spin.” Bones moved to the crane that would lower the sub into the moon pool. He operated the crane’s controls to slowly lower the sub to the surface of the water. “Would be nice to have more crew at a time like this. It’s not like we’re getting paid by the hour.”
Bones released the sub from the crane. Normal operating procedures called for both of them to be inside the sub when it was dropped from the crane, with the hatch closed. But the high degree of secrecy surrounding their mission meant that they would have no support personnel, necessitating a riskier launch.
“Well, it’s just us. Don’t rock the boat too much when you drag your big butt onboard, or we’ll have to phone the Admiral that we sank the nifty little spy sub he gave us.”
Bones grimaced at the thought. He went to the edge of the moon pool and pulled the craft to him with a rope. He gingerly stepped aboard, wasting no time settling into his co-pilot seat where his weight would be properly distributed. Then he reached up and drew the acrylic dome hatch down over them, taking comfort in the familiar pressure against his eardrums as the bubble was sealed.
Dane immediately vented the buoyancy tanks and brought the sub straight down to avoid banging into the edge of the moon pool before they were below the b
oat’s hull. He looked up once from a depth of one hundred feet and saw the warm glow of the boat’s open underside. Below them lay only darkness.
Dane poised his hands on the controls. To conserve battery power on the three mile trip to the seafloor they would simply sink under force of gravity, with most of the sub’s systems powered off. “About to shut off all non-critical systems. You good?”
“Always. You got the radio patch set up?”
If anyone hailed the Atlantic Pride on the marine radio while they were in the sub, it would seem strange not to respond, and could draw increased scrutiny. Dane tapped the sub’s radio.
“If we get a radio call topside, we’ll be able to respond from down here without anyone being the wiser.”
“Kind of reminds me of forwarding work calls to a home number without telling the boss you won’t be coming in that day.”
Dane grinned as he consulted his sonar display and the two SEALs plummeted toward the bottom of the ocean.
Chapter 5
Three hours later, Dane fully activated the sub’s technology in preparation for reaching the bottom. Bones flipped on the external lights. A white, disc-like deep sea fish, trailing bioluminescent tendrils passed close by their viewing dome. The unearthly pressures at these depths weighed heavily on the minds of both men.
“Five hundred twelve feet to bottom.” Bones eyed his instrument displays.
“We should be in the neighborhood of the capsule.” Dane pulled back slightly on the joystick, adjusting their angle of descent. Although they began the dive a quarter-mile from the Ocean Explorer they had by now closed that distance due to the slight angle of descent that Dane had maintained by setting the craft’s rudder against the prevailing currents and keeping a close eye on the compass.
“Two hundred two feet,” Bones warned. Were the sub to actually hit the seafloor, in addition to suffering possible damage to the craft, they also ran the risk of stirring up the fine silt on the bottom that would ruin their visibility for hours—all the time they had on this dive. Dane was well aware of the fact that even several feet above the bottom, the prop wash from Deep Black’s thrusters alone could stir up that silt. He slowed their rate of descent and leveled out the craft.
Although pitch-black, the water clarity at this tremendous depth was impressive. Dane had no trouble discerning in crisp detail whatever fell within the path of Bones’ floodlights and searchlight. He peered down on a featureless mud plain, dotted with a few starfish and simple creatures that were unknown to him.
“They were right about the seafloor topography in the briefing,” Dane said.
“Doesn’t get any flatter than this,” Bones agreed. “But I don’t see any capsule, do you?”
Dane consulted the compass and made a slight course correction. “We’re heading toward the expedition ship’s position. We’ll find it.”
Yet an hour passed and still they had encountered nothing man-made. Dane warned Bones that they had another hour of bottom time before they would need to begin their return trip to the surface. The sub’s power and oxygen supply would only last so long, and neither of them even wanted to entertain the notion of being stuck on the bottom three miles underwater with no power, completely in the dark.
Bones continued sweeping his search beam out past the swath of light cast by the floodlights while Dane took them closer to the Ocean Explorer.
“Dude, do you see that?” Bones cried.
Dane’s head was suddenly on a swivel and his heart raced. “What is it?”
“An old Bud can. Like, from the 1950s. Mint condition too!”
The sudden rush of tension drained from Dane’s neck and shoulders. “Low oxygen content down here, so the oxidation process is super-slow.”
“You can’t help it, can you?”
“What’s that?” Dane cocked his head.
“You take something cool and turn it into a science lesson. No wonder your game is so weak with the ladies.” Before Dane could reply, Bones continued. “It bodes well for us. Maybe the capsule is in good shape, including the nuke inside.”
Dane nodded. “The few promo pics from the expedition they showed us in the briefing looked like the outside of the capsule, at least, was very well preserved. Hopefully, we’ll find out soon.”
Ten more minutes elapsed without sighting anything noteworthy.
“You sure that compass is accurate?” Bones glanced down at the display, a trace of nervousness in his voice. The featureless seafloor, in blackness beyond the radius of the sub’s light arrays, would be an easy place to get lost, like wandering an endless expanse of desert sand.
“It’s accurate.” Dane tapped the navigation aid with a finger. “I think we’ve passed underneath the salvage ship and are now on the other side of it relative to our boat. The capsule is probably…” Just then, something caught his eye. “I see it!”
“Dude. Turn it down.” Bones rubbed his ears and grimaced in mock pain.
Dane chuckled. The extra volume was completely unnecessary in the confined space, but after the monotony of the muddy bottom, the protuberance at the edge of his illumination field was worthy of emphasis.
There, resting on the bottom like some forgotten child’s toy, lay the Liberty Bell 7.
“Adjusting course.” Dane maneuvered their agile craft toward the object of interest, careful to maintain a safe distance above the bottom. The only sound was the whir of the sub’s electric thrusters while both operators contemplated the significance of this sighting. If they were in fact coming up on the sunken spacecraft, then things were looking good for their mission timetable.
They neared the hazy form. It loomed out of the flatness, shaped like a bell but canted to one side. Then Bones shone the search beam directly on the thing and they saw it: a white zig-zag of a line painted on the object.
“Hello Liberty Bell 7!” Dane said.
Bones stared at the lopsided cone. “Honestly, I was more impressed by the beer can.”
Dane slowed the sub and hovered ten feet above the fallen spacecraft. “Let’s get to work. Let me know when you’re ready for me to move in.”
“I’ll take a radioactivity measurement to confirm the nuke is still on board and still active.” The sub was outfitted with an external Geiger counter, and Captain Epson had given Bones a crash course in its use. Bones’ practiced button pushing translated to smooth movements of the articulated arm outside the sub, and in short order he received a reading.
“Whoa, it’s hot down there! Showing a lot of millisieverts. Way above normal background levels.”
Dane took an extra moment to make sure the sub was under complete control. This was the real deal. The bomb was in there, all he had to do was keep the sub steady for Bones to pluck it out. “All right. You ready, Bones?”
Bones took a minute to test his grab-arms. “Ready. Work your magic, Ice Man.”
“So does that make you Maverick?” Dane peered intently over the sub’s control console as he spoke, finessing the joystick in order to bring the sub smoothly alongside the space capsule.
“No, I hate Tom Cruise. Should we drop in on it now?”
“Negative Ghostrider, the pattern is full.”
“Now you’re just making it weird, Maddock.”
“Whatever,” Dane said. “Keep an eye out for the hatch with the blown cover. That’s most likely the only opening in the craft’s hull.”
Bones directed the high intensity beam along Liberty Bell 7 as they circled it from a short distance above. “There it is!”
They looked down on a smallish rectangular opening in the spaceship. Dane guided the submersible through a series of incremental maneuvers until they were at eye level with the open hatch. Pillows of silt wafted from the bottom.
“Can you see in there?” Dane asked.
Bones pressed a rocker switch to move the search beam so that its light was cast inside the capsule.
“There’s some crap scattered on the floor, but everything looks to be in pret
ty good shape.”
“Crap? Can you elaborate?”
“There’s a bar of soap. You know, like one of those little motel soaps that I always steal. Or take with me, it’s really not stealing, right, if you’re staying…”
“Bones! Stay focused.”
“Okay, but there’s something else…something shiny… Looks like a small metal square thing on the floor of it.”
“Equipment that broke off?”
“It sort of looks like a box. If I can scoop it up we'll know for sure.”
“If you can do it quick. We need to get a move on.” Dane tapped their battery gauges.
“I see the nuke! Cylinder shape, maybe a foot long, just like they said.”
“Why not just grab it so we can scoot?” For Dane, keeping the sub perfectly positioned above the capsule, battling the micro-currents, was a stressful task.
“It’s a really small opening. I think I should practice with something non-critical first. I’ll use the magnet attachment on the small manipulator arm so that I can snatch up that box. Once I do that I’ll have the feel for it and go back in for the nuke.”
Bones pressed a button to retract a metal cover that exposed a magnetic surface on the end of the grab arm. Then he operated the videogame-like controls that extended the arm in through the hatch opening to the interior of the space capsule.
“I’m in…” He positioned the arm over the box and lowered the magnet-containing claw to the capsule floor. A puff of silt billowed around the mechanical arm. Then he raised the arm, box attached, and retracted it back through the open hatch, ensconcing it safely inside the sub’s tool bay.
“I was always good at those claw grabber games.”
“Yeah, yeah, you just won the little cheap toy. Now go for the big stuffed animal to make your date really happy.”
“We haven’t been at sea long enough for you to start looking good.” Like a dentist requesting drills from an assistant, Bones brought out the manipulator with the largest claw.