Sea of Greed

As the Discus sped forward, the pincers at the front opened wide, targeting the diver’s helmeted head, but the armored figure dropped back into the Minerve and hid before Volke could hit him.

Volke pulled up, crossed over the top of the submarine and spun his vessel around. This time, he set up closer to the opening, ready to hammer anything that emerged.

• • •

BACK ON THE SURFACE, Tessa heard the radio chatter. Through a set of binoculars, she saw one of her scuba divers popping to the surface. He was bleeding and swimming for one of the dive boats.

A radio call from Volke arrived next. “They’re down here. At least two of them. We have them trapped in the Minerve, but we can’t get inside.”

She pressed the transmitter. “Don’t let them escape.”

“That’s not what they’re trying to do,” Volke replied. “This is obviously a delaying tactic. The longer we stay, the more likely help is to arrive.”

“Help is coming,” she insisted. “But not for them.”

She contacted the second team of divers, the predator team who were used to fighting and killing. “You’re needed,” she said. “Go.”

They went in the water one after another, four men carrying spearguns with explosives-tipped heads.

68

TWO MILES from the Minerve, another submersible drifted slowly downward. It was scorched and silent.

“Would it help if I got out and pushed?” Rudi asked.

“It might,” Kurt said.

Kurt and Rudi had been controlling the Gryphon remotely from the submersible while it hung from the crane over the transom of the boat. They’d held on until just before the final missile impact, when Rudi had pressed the button to release them from the crane.

They’d dropped free just before the explosion, but the fire had toasted the exterior, coating the submersible in burns. While the shock wave battered the sub, no mortal damage had been done, but the submersible had been shaken so severely that the computer-based systems had shut down.

Going through the restart procedure for the third time, Kurt finally got the power restored and the systems up and running. Lights on the control panel came to life, followed by the subsurface comm system.

“…We’re completely surrounded. If you’re out there, now would be a good time to show up and render assistance.”

“Your plan seems to be working perfectly,” Rudi said from the copilot’s seat, “if it includes us nearly getting incinerated and the Trouts coming under attack with only the creaky hull of an old submarine between them and certain death.”

“The plan was to buy Paul and Gamay some time while lulling Tessa into thinking she’d killed us,” Kurt replied. “I never intended our deception to come that close to reality.”

“She has to have counted us out by now,” Rudi said. “So that part is a success.”

“I’m sure she has,” Kurt said, pushing the throttle forward. He got his bearings and turned toward the Minerve’s position. “Time for us to surprise her by returning from the dead.”

• • •

VOLKE WATCHED the new team of men descending toward him. The grenade-tipped spears they carried wouldn’t be enough to destroy the submarine, but they would be more than enough to put the last of the NUMA operatives out of their misery.

“Predator team,” he called out. “Stop your descent seventy feet above the Minerve’s hull. Be ready to unleash a barrage directly into the opening.”

The divers did as ordered, forming up high above the hull of the old submarine. As they got into position, Volke cycled through various channels on the aquatic communications system. There were only so many frequencies used for underwater radio. The NUMA divers would be using one of them.

“NUMA personnel hiding in the Minerve,” he announced. “My name is Volke. I wish to discuss terms of your surrender.”

He repeated this greeting on a dozen different channels before finally getting a response.

“You’ll be the one begging for a chance to surrender when the U.S. Navy arrives,” a woman’s voice said.

“We’ll be long gone by then,” Volke assured her. “As for you, they can either arrive to rescue a couple of forlorn survivors or to pick up your broken and battered bodies. The choice is yours.”

“I’d tell you what you can do with that offer,” the woman said. “But my parents taught me to act like a lady, even when I didn’t want to.”

Volke almost laughed. “Let me demonstrate what’s about to happen here,” he said, before switching channels. “Predator leader, fire a single charge, target the hull beside the opening.”