one was painted black.
“Funny there’s no smudge marks,” Summer said. “Looks like it was freshly painted.”
“Another attempt to conceal her identity.”
“Take us in a little.” Summer leaned forward, peering closely at the funnel’s surface.
While Dirk drew them in, Summer activated one of the robotic arms and flexed it toward the funnel. Making contact, she dragged the claw across the surface, leaving a foot-long gouge.
“Please don’t carve your initials,” Dirk said. “I don’t want a Lloyd’s agent knocking on my door at two in the morning.”
“Just checking what’s underneath.”
As the paint flakes swirled away with the current, they could clearly see an ocher line beneath the scratch.
“The funnel was originally gold, or had a gold band,” she said.
“That’s one more nugget.”
They filmed the wreck for another thirty minutes, capturing its length, deck configuration, and any other details that could aid in its identification.
“Batteries are approaching reserve power,” Summer said.
“I think we’ve learned all we can,” Dirk said. “Besides, Jack won’t be too happy if we surface after dark.”
He purged the ballast tanks, and they began a controlled ascent. Several minutes later, they broke the surface amid a choppy sea driven by a gusting westerly. The sun was already dipping beneath a bank of clouds on the horizon, stabbing the fading sky with bolts of pink and orange. As waves splashed over the submersible’s acrylic canopy, Dirk saw a nearby boat approaching. It was the same patrol boat he and Dahlgren had seen earlier.
“Looks like someone was waiting for us.” The boat turned directly toward them while increasing speed. “Might be a good time to call the Alexandria to come fetch us.”
“I think I spotted them on the horizon.” Summer strained her neck to peer over the rolling waves. “They still look to be a few miles off.”
She reached for the transmission button on her radio, then froze. “Dirk, what are they doing?”
Her brother was already tracking the patrol boat, which approached at an uncomfortably high speed. The steel-hulled vessel was less than a hundred feet away. It should have begun to slow or veer off, but it didn’t.
“They mean to ram us!” Summer shouted.
Dirk had the thrusters engaged, but with a top speed of only three knots the submersible couldn’t outrun a sea turtle. With no chance to elude the patrol boat, and insufficient time to dive, Dirk reacted the only way he could. He turned the submersible directly toward the oncoming vessel.
Summer looked at him as if he were insane and braced for the collision. Dirk kept his eyes glued on the boat, maneuvering toward its sharp bow as if on a death wish. He waited until the craft was nearly upon them, then turned the joystick hard over while reversing the starboard thrusters.
The submersible responded as if mired in quicksand, and Dirk feared he had reacted too late. But after a brief hesitation, it veered to starboard, narrowly slipping past the boat’s charging prow.
As Dirk hoped, the patrol boat’s helmsman had locked on course and reacted too late to the last-second maneuver. Instead, the boat struck the submersible with only a light blow.
Dirk and Summer heard a bang and felt their craft shudder as the contact crushed one of the rear thrusters. The impact briefly disrupted the power supply, shutting down the sub’s electrical systems. As Dirk frantically repowered the thrusters, he glanced out the spherical window as the patrol craft tore by. A man in green fatigues stood at the rail, pointing an assault rifle at the sub. But the gunman didn’t shoot, instead just offering a menacing grin.
Summer fought off the urge to flash him an obscene gesture. “That was close.” She turned her attention to the radio. “Can you get us submerged?”
“Trying.” Dirk had started flooding the ballast tanks even before the collision but had to reactivate the pumps after the power failed. They had only a matter of seconds before the patrol boat would swing around for another pass.
“Still no power to the radio,” Summer said, resetting the breaker switches behind her seat. When that failed, she took a quick peek out the bubble. The ballast tanks had resumed filling, pulling the submersible almost beneath the waves.
“She’s already turned. Nearly upon us,” she said matter-of-factly.
She jumped back into her seat and cinched the lap belt tight.
“C’mon, get down.” Dirk pressed the yoke all the way forward. With half their thrusters disabled, it did little to speed their descent.