“I needed the sleep.”
“Where’s Summer?” Dirk asked. “The Gold Digger said you had a deepwater emergency.”
“She’s stuck on the bottom in the Starfish,” he said. “While I’m glad to see the ship, that was the Sargasso Sea’s only submersible. We need some outside help—and quick.”
“Actually, we don’t.” Gunn extended an arm like a waiter. “If you’ll be kind enough to follow me . . .”
Gunn quickly escorted the group aft with Pitt in a frantic rush to save Summer. At the stern deck, they found Jack Dahlgren inspecting the submersible Gunn had borrowed from the Caroline. Named the Bullet, it was a hybrid that mated a submersible’s cabin to a powerboat’s hull. With both conventional and electric motors, the sleek craft was able to skim the surface at high speed.
Pitt was familiar with the vessel, having piloted it in Turkey a few years earlier. “Where’d this come from?” he asked.
“Jack and I needed something fast and stealthy to get aboard the Sargasso Sea. She was operating out of Bimini on the Caroline, so we brought the ship in close and piloted her the rest of the way.”
Dahlgren looked up at Pitt and nodded. “Good to see you, boss. Heard you need a fast ride downstairs.”
“Summer’s life depends on it.”
“She’s good to go,” Dahlgren said, patting the submersible. “Hop in and we’ll get you over the side.”
Pitt turned to Gunn as he made his way to the Bullet’s hatch. “Ramsey’s going to need some help with the survivors.”
Gunn nodded. “We’ll lend a hand, once you’re off.”
Giordino joined Pitt in the submersible and they were quickly lowered over the side. Pitt took a bead on Ramsey’s yacht and barreled along the surface, descending just as they neared the Gold Digger.
The submersible would normally descend by gravity alone, but they lacked the luxury of time. After flooding the ballast tanks, Pitt pushed the nose of the Bullet forward and applied full propulsion. The vehicle shot downward. At seven hundred feet, Pitt eased back on the thrusters, and leveled off a minute later as the seafloor loomed beneath them.
The Bullet wasn’t equipped with sonar, so they had to locate Summer visually. Giordino marked their position as Pitt propelled the submersible in a wide arc.
“There’s something on the right.” Giordino pointed out the submersible’s large acrylic viewport.
Pitt adjusted course toward a dark object at the fringe of their visibility. It was the auxiliary cutter, which had righted itself during its descent and landed upright on the bottom. Pitt circled around the large cutter head and paused at the gruesome sight. A man was impaled on the blades, his singed uniform indicating he’d been blasted onto them by the barge’s explosion.
“Say hello to Juan Díaz,” Pitt said, recognizing the figure. The face was twisted in a final death cry. “He was responsible for this operation.”
“I see you cut him up with your wit and charm,” Giordino said.
“That and a ton of explosives.”
Giordino marked their position as Pitt accelerated forward. Summer had to be within two or three hundred yards. He traveled that distance, then looped to his left. The bottom became rockier, rising with mounds and hills that showed occasional signs of marine life.
“Water temperature is up a few degrees,” Giordino said. “We must be in the neighborhood of the thermal vent.”
A few moments later, they came across some tread marks. Pitt followed them to the trench filled with explosives. The yellow Starfish was visibly perched on the far side. Pitt zoomed over, bringing the two submersibles nose to nose.
Summer was slumped over in the pilot’s seat. As the bright lights shone into the cockpit, she rolled her head back and opened her eyes. She blinked twice, then closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat.
“She looks to be suffering carbon monoxide poisoning,” Giordino said.
“We’ll have to find a way to get her up on our own.” Pitt backed the submersible away and slowly circled the Starfish.
“Hang on, partner,” Giordino said. “Take a look at the aft frame.”
Pitt followed Giordino’s lead and examined the base of the Starfish. Several strands of wire were wrapped around a side frame and extended underneath the submersible. Pitt pivoted around the Starfish, observing that the ends of the wires were secured on the opposite side. “It’s the secondary emergency ballast weight. They’ve wired it up so Summer can’t release it.”
“That explains why she’s stuck here,” Giordino said. “They probably spiked the ballast tank, too.”
“You up for some surgery?”