Nighthawk (NUMA Files 14)

Kurt was about to zoom in when the image blurred and a large swath of the screen went dark.

“What happened?”

“It’s a shadow,” Joe said from behind them. “The side-scan sonar is sending its pulse across the seafloor at a nearly flat angle, like the sun getting low on the horizon. When something gets in the way of the echo, it creates a long shadow, like those you see stretching across a street in the late afternoon.”

Kurt zoomed out and a jagged shape appeared. A ridge of volcanic material jutting up from the seafloor. Everything beyond it was invisible.

“We could have the boats circle back and get another scan from a different angle,” Joe suggested.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Kurt said. “Let the boats continue on until they reach the edge of the search zone and then have them make the turn as planned. While they do that, we’ll take the Angler down and check out what we’ve found. If it turns out to be anything important, we’ll be able to confirm. And if not, we won’t have brought the whole search to a halt in the process.”

“Makes sense,” Joe said. “And it gives you something to do.”

Kurt grinned. “There’s a method to my madness.”

“You keep thinking that,” Joe quipped.

“I’m going with you,” Emma said. “If it turns out to be debris, it’s likely to be in rough condition: mostly small pieces and mangled and bent fragments. I’m the on

ly one here who’ll be able to make a positive ID.”

“You don’t have to come down to do that,” Kurt said. “You can watch on the monitors up here.”

“I prefer to see things in person,” she said. “Besides, when am I going to get another chance to dive to the bottom of the sea in a high-tech submarine?”

“The lady has a point,” Joe said.

Kurt didn’t mind the company. “Okay,” he said. “You’ve got one ticket to the bottom of the sea.”

Twenty minutes later, Kurt and Emma were sitting in the command seats of the Angler as Joe used the Air-Crane to lift them off the deck and carry them toward the target zone.

Though the submersible was hooked on securely, it still swayed beneath the fuselage of the orange-painted helicopter.

“I’ll be glad when we get into the water,” Emma said. “How close are we?”

“Approaching the drop zone,” Joe’s voice replied over the intercom.

“You mean the Lower us gently into the sea zone, don’t you?” Kurt replied.

“Of course,” Joe said. “Wouldn’t want to give you too much frustration for one day.”

As they neared the drop zone, Joe slowed the helicopter to a hover and brought it down toward the surface. At the same time, Kurt ran one last check to ensure the Angler was watertight and that all systems were go.

“Ready for our bath,” Kurt said.

“Roger that,” Joe replied.

The submersible lurched downward as the cable began to unwind. It descended the rest of the way smoothly and then settled into passing swells, rising and falling softly, once it reached the sea.

A metallic clink sounded as the hook was detached and the line reeled in.

“Catch-and-release program completed,” Joe called out. “You two are on your own.”

“Roger that,” Kurt said. “Deploying communications buoy and beginning descent. See you in a couple of hours.”

As Kurt flooded the ballast tanks, seawater crept up the curved glass of the canopy, bathing the cockpit in a blue-green light. As they submerged completely, the thundering racket of the helicopter diminished to a muted staccato beat.

Kurt vented the forward tanks and the nose of the Angler tilted downward to begin the submarine’s plunge into the deep. A fiber-optic cable, connected to a floating buoy, trailed out behind them. All radio and video communications would be transmitted through it.