by Bobby Akart
Chapter Forty-One
Outside the Wreckage of German U-boat 1226
The Puerto Rico Trench
Depth: 27,840 feet
Fathoms: 4,640
The Deepsea Challenger 6
North Atlantic Ocean
“Even with these lights, it’s near impossible to see more than a hundred feet in any direction,” lamented Cam. She’d taken control of the manual spotlights attached to the front of the submersible, designed to supplement the fixed lighting used for navigational purposes.
“I can hover and maintain a fifty-to-seventy-five-meter separation between us and the U-boat. Any closer and we run the risk of running into a wayward hunk of steel.”
Cam continued to light up the surface so the multiple external cameras affixed to the DSC-6 could record every aspect of the wreckage.
“Whoa! What the hell was that?” Bear shouted his question.
Cam swung the spotlight toward the front of the submersible in the direction where Bear was pointing. She frantically searched the dark ocean depths back and forth until she found the phenomenon floating ahead of them.
The twenty-foot-long oblong object seemed to move and change in shape as the current pushed it around. She steadied her hand to keep the light on the center of the blob as it drifted aimlessly to their side.
“It’s some kind of gelatin egg sac. Look, the membrane is almost transparent.”
Bear leaned forward in his seat. “Is it full of eggs?”
“I see them,” she replied. “Hundreds of them. Hell, thousands even. It has to be from a giant squid.”
“For real?” asked Bear in disbelief. He never knew when Cam was pulling his chain.
“Yes, I’m serious, Bear. There are large squid throughout the oceans. Most are around sixteen feet, but males can grow as large as thirty-nine.”
Bear started looking all around the DSC-6. “Um, does that mean mama might be nearby?”
Cam slugged him. “You big baby. Let’s keep going. I don’t want Gunner to have to wait on us.”
Bear methodically moved along the length of the sub. Cam focused on illuminating the hull and then had Bear pause for a moment as they passed the conning tower. She turned her attention to the operations console. She adjusted the focus and telephoto lens of the side camera to zoom in on the tower.
“I think I have some type of marking on the tower. We’ll analyze it topside.”
Bear didn’t immediately power them forward. Instead, he was staring at his sonar. An object could be seen sitting stationary on the other side of the wreckage. He tapped on the console to get Cam’s attention.
“Do you see it?” he asked.
“Yeah. It might be the squid. The size makes sense.”
“C’mon, Cam. Seriously?”
Cam leaned over to study the object. It was stationary, something she found odd. “I wonder why it’s not moving?” she muttered.
“Maybe it’s waiting for us to come around the hull?”
She ignored his silly statement. A squid doesn’t stalk its prey. It simply consumes whatever comes into its feeding tentacles. They also rarely remain stationary. Like most fish, as they swim, water rushes under their gills, where the blood in their capillaries picks up oxygen that had dissolved in the water.
“Let’s abandon our surveying of the wreckage for a minute. Head straight for the blip on the sonar.”
“What? Straight toward the squid.”
“Just go, Bear. We need to see what it is.”
“No. Actually, no, we don’t. Let’s stay on mission.”
Cam turned in her seat and gave Bear the look. “Since when do you wanna stay on mission? You’ve got the worst op ADD I’ve ever seen.”
“Since we discovered the giant squid over there.”
Cam shook her head, and Bear reluctantly accelerated across the bow of the sub in the direction of the sonar anomaly. Minutes later, he slowed the DSC-6 to a drift.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “We’ve got company.”
Cam tensed, grabbing the arms of her seat. “Yeah, and if we can see them, they can see us.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Inside the Wreckage of German U-boat 1226
The Puerto Rico Trench
Depth: 27,840 feet
Fathoms: 4,640
North Atlantic Ocean
Gunner’s light kit provided him more than enough illumination to safely move through the interior of the submarine. The decayed wreckage still provided some semblance of its former layout, which Gunner had studied while they awaited the bad weather to clear at the Coast Guard station in Puerto Rico. He found an area where a spiral staircase was once confined. The staircase was gone, but the opening was wide enough for him to drop several levels without having to follow passageways or to discern what remained of them.
The pressure hull plating and the framing material of U-1226 was made of the thickest steel and was relatively intact. The interior was created by cold-formed frames of aluminum-normalized steel, a much thinner, lighter-weight material. Virtually all of that had disintegrated, leaving large open spaces that were once considered very cramped quarters.
Gunner recalled the video he’d watched from the previous dive that had doomed three good people to their death. He could’ve followed the exact path through the sub that Ballard had used, but it would’ve taken much longer, and Gunner wasn’t interested in exploring. The video was helpful to Gunner in that it allowed him to retrace Ballard’s movements from exiting the stern back to the cargo hold, where the images had revealed hundreds of titanium canisters secured in rows, relatively undisturbed.
He reached the cargo hold and stopped to calm his nerves. He checked his vitals revealed on the inside of his mask. Gunner’s pulse rate was high, but his blood pressure was normal. He took a deep breath and got his bearings. He moved toward the center of the sub, ducking through two passageways in between the lower compartments. Once he emerged into the cargo hold he’d studied on Ballard’s video, he froze and scowled.
It was empty.
The racks and steel straps that had contained the titanium canisters were still there. However, all the straps had been broken loose, and the canisters were gone.
All of them.
“Bear, Cam, do you copy?”
He knew it was a fruitless effort, but he had to try.
There was no response.
At the risk of burning up his air supply, Gunner decided to record his observations aloud. If the DSC-6 needed to access the feed at some point, they might be able to.
“Well, I’ve arrived at the cargo hold. Unless I’ve gotten confused and found a second hold on this sub, somebody has beaten us to the canisters. This place is completely empty.”
He slowly moved through the empty compartment, turning his head back and forth slowly to provide the camera a number of different angles of the emptied racks. He furrowed his brow as he tried to process what he was seeing. At one point, he turned around and made his way back to the point where he’d dropped into the sub’s cargo hold.
He continued to record his findings. “I don’t know, guys. Maybe it was a mistake on my part to take this shortcut to the cargo hold, but for Pete’s sake, despite this sub being two hundred and fifty feet long, they didn’t allow a whole helluva lot of space for cargo. I’ll go back up and make my way to the conn. I’ll follow Ballard’s entry into the cargo hold to the letter.”
Gunner used his jets to propel him up through the spiral staircase shaft until he reached the top of the submarine. He followed his instincts along the passageways until he arrived at the bridge. He immediately recognized its layout from the schematics he’d been provided.
Working from memory, he found where Ballard had entered the conn from the direction of the bow and began to walk in his footsteps. He dropped from one level to the next until he reached the cargo hold again. It was still empty.
“Same shit, different day. It’s just as empty as it was when I came in
from the other end.”
Gunner turned around slowly to take in his surroundings. He decided to move toward the bow of the U-boat in search of another compartment, silently cursing himself for not studying it more.
“I’m headed into the bow. Maybe there is another cargo hold and I got turned around? I’m not leaving until I—”
“Wait. I see light ahead. There’s somebody else down here.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Outside the Wreckage of German U-boat 1226
The Puerto Rico Trench
Depth: 27,840 feet
Fathoms: 4,640
The Deepsea Challenger 6
North Atlantic Ocean
“Goin’ dark,” mumbled Bear. “They may see us on sonar if they’re monitoring it like we are. But let’s not make it easy for them.”
“Killing interior lighting except for the console,” said Cam. With the lights out, the myriad of screens on the control panel emitted red, blue, and green lights that lit up their faces, creating a kaleidoscope effect.
“Interior fully dark as well,” said Bear.
“Let’s just ease on over there and see what’s what, shall we?” asked Cam.
Bear guided the DSC-6 through a current of silt. The amount of debris in the water would’ve likely blinded them temporarily had their exterior lighting been turned on.
“Temps are suddenly rising,” announced Cam. “There must be a thermal vent nearby.”
“It’s not effecting them. They’re not moving one iota.”
“It must be between us,” she said as she checked the sonar readout. “Three hundred meters and closing.”
Bear held on to the controls as the submersible was tossed about. The current lifted them briefly and then rapidly forced them toward the ocean floor.
“Dude, this sucks,” said Bear as he made frequent corrections to prevent them from being body-slammed back into the hull of the wreckage.
“Ride the current and then break out of it,” suggested Cam. “That’ll give us a run at them without having to worry about getting rolled by the ocean.”
Bear allowed the DSC-6 to drift with the current. The other submersible remained in its stationary position.
“I don’t think they’ve discovered us,” commented Cam.
“I agree,” said Bear. The DSC-6 slowed to a stop. “Okay, we’re through it. Let’s go say hello.”
He powered the submersible forward and rose above the location of the intruder. Taking the high ground in a battle was something instilled in Bear. Plus, his own short experience in the DSC-6 told him that these vessels had major blind spots to the rear and above. Based upon the direction their adversary’s lights were pointing, he had the ability to sneak up on them if they weren’t monitoring their sonar.
“Almost there,” said Cam. “Hundred meters. Eighty. We should have a good visual shortly.”
“Lights?” asked Bear.
“Hold. Sixty meters. Forty. Now!”
Bear turned the external lights on, and the other submersible was illuminated. They were able to get a good view of the much larger vessel, and the cameras were sure to record every detail.
A burst of air bubbles shot out of the back of the other submersible, temporarily obscuring their view.
“It’s gonna be on the move,” said Bear.
Cam’s voice revealed her excitement. “Shit! Look at that thing motor.”
“Should I follow?”
“Duh,” Cam replied. “We need to know what it’s up to. Go!”
Bear accelerated with all the power the DSC-6 could muster, but the other submersible was pulling away. They were now several hundred yards away from the wreckage.
“We’ll never catch ’em,” he admitted.
“That thing was built for more than scientific research. What the hell were they up to?”
Bear didn’t respond as he slowed the DSC-6 until it floated in a stationary position just above the ocean floor. Both of them studied the sonar as the other vessel slowly disappeared off the screen.
“I guess we’ll never know,” commented Cam. “Let’s finish up and then pick up our boy. We’ll have a great story to tell.”
Bear turned the submersible and headed back toward the very end of the U-boat where the bow had embedded into the sand when it sank. They planned on picking up their video survey of the wreckage from that point and then meeting up with Gunner at the stern where he initially entered the submarine.
They turned and were on their way when suddenly the sonar caught Cam’s eye. “Are you kidding me? Bear, they’re coming back.”
“Why? It’s not like we can square off in a gun battle.”
Cam focused on the radar and the speed at which the other submersible was travelling. “We can’t, but what if they can?”
“Shit, you’re right. But what are we supposed to do? We can’t haul ass. We gotta get Gunner.” He pointed toward the digital clock display on the console. Cam had scheduled the rendezvous time on the countdown clock to remind them to be at the extraction point.
Cam watched the vessel approach at a high rate of speed. They were running out of time. Then she had an idea.
“You know what? They don’t know that. They know as little about us as we know about them. Turn this thing around and charge them like you’re ready to fight.”
Bear began the turn as he made eye contact with Cam. “What if they do have some type of weapons like a torpedo or explosives.”
“Then we’re screwed,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Bluffing is all we’ve got.”
“Can’t argue,” said Bear as he set his jaw and navigated the DSC-6 directly for the oncoming submersible. Then Bear smiled. “Hey, I’ve got an idea.” He doused the external lights.
“What did you do that for? They can still track us on sonar.”
“True. Listen, didn’t those guys on the ship tell us the manual spotlight has multiple colored lenses?”
“Yeah,” replied Cam. “White, yellow, and red.”
“Let’s simulate weapons fire. Change the lens to red, flash the light for a two-count. Turn it off and then flip it over to yellow while holding it steady for a three-count. Repeat. Make them think we’ve launched something at them.”
“That’s freakin’ brilliant!” exclaimed Cam.
“When you’re ready,” said Bear as he slowed the DSC-6 to avoid reaching the other submersible. If they got a closer visual, the ruse might not work.
As Bear instructed, she initiated the light pattern. Then she repeated it again. The results were obvious.
“Hell yeah!” shouted Cam as the two of them exchanged high fives.
“Tuckin’ tail and haulin’ ass, baby!” exclaimed Bear proudly.
“They left just as fast as they came back.”
“I think we’re done here. Let’s get Gunner and head up.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Inside the Wreckage of German U-boat 1226
The Puerto Rico Trench
Depth: 27,840 feet
Fathoms: 4,640
North Atlantic Ocean
Gunner took a gamble and turned off his exterior light kit. Thus far, based upon the other diver’s deliberate, workmanlike movements, he hadn’t been noticed. There was no evidence the diver was attempting to evade or escape. Once the lights were off, Gunner carefully felt his way through the center of the U-boat, using his hands to guide him.
“I’ve got another diver down here,” he whispered although that was unnecessary. No one could hear him even if he shouted at the top of his lungs. “I’ve shut off my lights to avoid detection. The problem is the other diver is able to move away from me faster than I can feel my way through the sub.”
Gunner picked up the pace. Then suddenly, the other diver’s lights disappeared.
“Dammit!” he yelled to himself.
He still resisted the urge to flip on his lights. He cussed the exosuit designers for not incorporating night vision. But why would they? Who would envision a s
ituation like this one?
Gunner had to move quickly now. He focused on the point where he last saw the diver. Using his side-mounted propulsion, he maneuvered his body into a prone position and then gave his feet thrusters all the power that the exosuit supplied.
He rocketed blindly through the wreckage, disregarding the unforgiving decayed-steel hulk that could tear his exosuit, resulting in his brutal death.
At least it would be fast, Gunner thought to himself.
Gritting his teeth, he twisted his upper body to avoid several steel rods that reached out from the sides of this passageway like the arms of an octopus. The vision popped into Gunner’s mind of the suction-cup arms plucking him out of the water like he was a plump, tasty fish.
He turned off the propulsion system and coasted to a stop near the point where the other diver had ascended through the sub. Gunner looked up and caught a glimpse of light.
“There you are,” he mumbled.
After positioning his body, he once again gave his feet thrusters full throttle. Gunner blasted thru a gaping hole in the once solid floors of the sub. The light emitted from the other diver’s suit was growing larger in his field of vision. He began to extend his arms so he could grab the diver’s legs before he exited the U-boat.
That was when he crashed into a steel beam that extended into the void. Gunner groaned as he sideswiped the beam, causing him to twist and spin in the open space. Out of control, Gunner struck the exterior hull of the ship. The blow was so hard, his exosuit’s computer system shut down temporarily, leaving him gasping for air from the impact and the diminished oxygen.
He struggled to regain his composure. He tried to slow his breathing and settle his nerves while also searching the pitch-black waters for signs of the other diver.
He caught a glimpse of light above his head and to his left. He had no idea whether the diver was moving toward the bow or the stern. Gunner had to catch up to him.
He was no longer able to be cautious. If he didn’t catch the diver, he’d never know what happened to the canisters. He forgot the pain in his back and the burning in his lungs as he consumed the remaining oxygen stored in the exosuit. All of the safety protocols didn’t mean squat once the computer shut down.
