Odessa Sea (Dirk Pitt 24)

Mansfield stomped across the bridge of the Russian oceanographic survey ship Tavda and glanced at the color sonar screen. He didn’t have to study the image’s details to know it was the Canterbury. “How did they know to get here now?”

The hog-faced captain of the Tavda chortled. “Why don’t you call them up and ask?”

“You talk to them. Tell them the wreck is a sovereign ship of Russia and to stand off.”

The captain nodded. “I can do that.”

Mansfield gazed at the turquoise survey ship, then focused on a submersible surfacing near its stern. “Before you talk to them, have my demolitions kit brought to the launch deck. I’m going to take care of the wreck straightaway.”

Across the waves, the recovery team pulled the yellow NUMA submersible aboard the Odin. The lights on the stern deck were fully ablaze under the fading daylight as Dirk, Summer, and Dahlgren exited the craft. Dahlgren set the recovery team to work, inspecting the submersible and preparing it for future dives.

“I’m going to make a copy of the video first thing.” Summer hurried toward a nearby laboratory bay, carrying a portable hard drive.

Dirk gave her a wave. “I’ll report to the bridge and see what the Russians are doing here.”

He made his way to the Odin’s pilothouse, where the captain, a bearded man named Littleton, was peering through binoculars at the Tavda. “What’s up with our nosey neighbors?”

“Good question,” Littleton said. “He steamed right up to our position and wasn’t very considerate about backing away when I told him we had underwater operations in progress.” He passed the binoculars to Dirk. “Nice-looking ship, though.”

Dirk admired the Russian vessel, nearly twice the size of the Odin. It featured multiple A-frames for deploying equipment, a moon pool, and a covered helicopter on an elevated pad amidships.

“She’s called the Tavda,” Littleton said. “A recently launched oceanographic research ship with icebreaking capability. Apparently, she’s also designed to perform deep-sea salvage operations. Or so say the news reports.”

“Looks first-rate. I wonder what she’s doing here?”

His query was answered a short time later when the ship’s radio crackled with a Russian-accented voice. “Research vessel Odin, this is the survey ship Tavda. You are intruding on a shipwreck of the Russian Federation. Please vacate the area at once.”

“Tavda, this is Odin,” Littleton said. “We have conducted a survey of the wreck and ascertained she is the British light cruiser Canterbury, sunk in 1917. Over.”

There was a long pause. “Negative. The wreck is a warship of Russia. We must insist that you vacate the site at once.”

Littleton looked at the Tavda again with his binoculars. A small contingent of armed Marines were assembling on the fan deck. He turned back to Dirk. “I think they’re serious about the wreck. Could they be right?”

“It’s possible but doesn’t seem likely. The wreck’s dimensions and features match up perfectly to the specs we have on the Canterbury. But I guess it doesn’t much matter now. We’ve got the video of the survey. We can turn it over to the British and let them fight the Russians over it.”

The captain nodded. “Then I guess we’re done here.” Littleton radioed the Tavda and informed them the NUMA ship

would move off the site as requested.

Summer stepped onto the bridge a few minutes later. “Why are we moving?” she asked.

“We don’t want to get shot over a rusty shipwreck.” Dirk motioned toward the Tavda. “Our Russian neighbors claim it’s theirs—and seem willing to wage a war over it.”

Summer shook her head. “No, I think we need to take another dive on her. There’s something on the video I think you should see.”

She plugged a flash drive into a computer at the rear of the bridge. Dirk and Littleton crowded around as footage of the Canterbury appeared. Summer fast-forwarded to the halfway point.

“At about thirty minutes in, we filmed the starboard cabins just beneath the bridge,” she said. “This is the first one coming up.”

The video showed the interior of the bridge as the submersible slid around to the starboard side. The submersible then dropped down a level and focused on an open steel door. The camera peered into the small room, showing the corroded remains of a metal desk and porcelain sink on one side and some scattered debris on the floor. The view lingered for a moment, then slowly turned away and out of the cabin as a flurry of silt from one of the submersible’s side thrusters filled the room.

“There!” Summer stopped the video.

Dirk and Littleton looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Didn’t see anything,” Dirk said.

“Look on the floor, near the side bulkhead, just before the silt gets thrown up.” Summer replayed the last section of the video, this time at slow speed.