The Girl Beneath the Sea (Underwater Investigation Unit #1)(78)

“Barely. Raul was smart. He blew a small hole in the starboard saddle tank. That sent it to the bottom. The damn thing’s nose is buried under several feet of sediment. It hit it like a missile, but it’s otherwise undamaged.”

“Maybe he was planning to repair it and drive it out of here?”

“Maybe. I couldn’t get inside. The thing is sealed shut with hex bolts. But I was able to get a look through a porthole on the front—about as big as a sand dollar. There are rows of Pelican cases on either side and a small corridor down the middle. Big enough for a person.”

I start searching the gear bags in the Zodiac for tools. We brought a basic kit with a hacksaw, bolt cutters, and a torch.

“What are you doing?” asks Dad.

“We have to get that cargo out. We need to find his files.”

“Sloan, there’re fifty cases in there. The files could be in any one of those.” He gestures to the storm. “We can’t exactly open them up out here. What if it’s a hard drive or something that’ll corrode? Not to mention the money.”

“We can’t leave them,” I reply.

“I know. But we need the Fool to get them. There’s also the fact that I can’t get in there without a hex set. Unless you want to cut it open. Even then, that leaves the problem of what to do about the cases,” Dad explains.

“Damn it.” I stare back toward where we left the Fool.

“Call George. Tell him to bring the Fool to us. We’ll work quick.”

I pick up the sat phone and dial George. The phone makes a connecting tone but doesn’t ring. “I think the storm is interfering with the phone.”

“Let me see that.” Dad takes the phone from my hands and tries to dial. After a moment of frustration, he starts clicking through menus. “I can’t even get a satellite lock.”

I stare up at the sky. “Can a storm do that?”

“No.” He gives the phone back and grabs the GPS unit. “Look.” He turns the screen toward me.

The display says it can’t acquire a signal.

“What the hell?”

“We’re being jammed,” Dad says.

“How do you jam a satellite phone or a GPS?” I ask.

“They’re not directional. Just blast a more powerful signal.” He reaches over the edge of the raft and yanks at the anchor cord, releasing us from the bottom.

“What are you doing?”

“Changing our position.” Dad starts the motor up and begins to steer us toward the last location of the Fool. “Check your watch. I’ve got it at half throttle.”

I call out every ten seconds. Dad stops us after we’re eighty seconds distant from the Kraken and lowers anchor again.

“What was that about?” I ask.

“If they find us before George does, we don’t want to make it easy for them. If they look down and see the Kraken, they’re not going to need us around.”

Damn. He’s right. These people play for keeps. If they catch up with us and have the submarine, they’ll kill us. They already have their own divers.

Dad grabs the transceiver we used to find the Kraken and smashes it with the bolt cutters, then chucks it overboard. “Can’t let them have that either.”

“Okay. So, what’s our plan?” I ask.

“Besides prayer? Hope George finds us fast and we can get the Fool loaded before they get to us.”

“We’re not going to be able to outrun them.”

Our raft rolls to the side, and I almost lose my balance. The winds are picking up, and the waves are getting more violent.

“No. But we might be able to lose them.”

“They have radar and thermal imaging. Hell, they may even have airplanes spotting for ’em.”

“Not in this weather. And they’ve never had to deal with a McPherson in their natural element,” Dad replies.

I try to make myself believe his bluster, but I know it’s just his way of keeping his spirits up. I’m glad he’s trying.

Dad looks at something over my shoulder, and his expression goes slack.

I spin around. “What is it?”

“I saw something.”

I turn around. “The Fool?”

He starts digging through the gear packs until he finds a flare gun. “This one didn’t have any running lights. Put your tank on and go in.”

“What?”

“Just go down a few feet under the chop.” He throws a line over. “If it’s them, I don’t want you in the boat.”

“Dad . . .”

“Do it!”





CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

BALLAST

I stay on the surface and bob like a cork but keep my distance from the Zodiac until Dad gives me the signal to dive.

I let the air out of my vest and drop down fifteen feet, where I get handled a little more gently by the waves and am in less danger of getting chopped up by a propeller. My lights are off, and I feel extremely vulnerable.

The sound of the waves hitting the raft is what attracts sharks. While I’m just as much of a target going up or down the anchor line, I feel better when I’m moving. I also have my light, but right now it’s off. We can’t risk someone on the surface seeing a strange glow if I’m supposed to be hidden.