In the submarine’s forward hatch, Sergeant Popov was waiting and answered immediately.
“We are in position. You are clear.”
Popov nodded. With a simple “affirmative,” he replaced the handset on the wall and turned to his men. Wearing thin black wetsuits and SCUBA gear, each man stood side by side, packing the small gray metal room.
Each of the Russians raised their face mask, pulled it over the top of their neoprene hoodie, and breathed in the cool air coming from the short aluminum tank on their back.
With a nod from Popov, two men stepped forward where they unlocked and pulled the hatch open, allowing a flood of seawater to begin bubbling up into the chamber.
Submarine escape training, or more specifically, a controlled submarine escape, was something all sailors were ready for. But to American SEALS and Russian Spetsnaz soldiers, who both trained relentlessly on land and sea, it was routine. The men waited patiently while the bubbling seawater swirled around the room, rising rapidly above their knees and then their lower legs.
The water promptly engulfed the heavy waterproof bags standing before each of the Spetsnaz troops, in addition to several black cone-shaped objects. Larger than civilian models, the Dive Propulsion Vehicles, more commonly known as DPVs, were heavier and more powerful. They made for a huge advantage, being able to deliver Spetsnaz Special Forces teams to their targets faster and with virtually no expended energy.
Once the room had filled, the outer hatch was fully opened, allowing the men to push their gear out ahead of themselves. They exited in rapid single-file fashion. After leaving the sub’s outer hull, each floated silently outside.
In less than two minutes, both teams were out. Popov motioned to Junior Sergeant Levin, who remained close enough to see. In near-perfect synchronization, the men grouped into their two teams and powered up their vehicles. With each of their bags dangling behind them and the electric motors on their DPVs spinning silently, the men all disappeared into the darkness.
81
Neely Lawton had a mug to her lips when the younger Lee Kenwood burst through the door of the lab, out of breath. Next to her sat Will Borger, also frozen at the interruption.
“We have trouble! Come on!”
They each looked at the other, and then jumped from their seats, running for the door — already swinging closed.
When they made it to the small room where Lee was working, they hastily crowded behind him and his monitor. Lee tapped a button on his keyboard and spoke into the mike.
“They’re here, Ali!”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” said Alison’s voice through the speakers. “But it doesn’t seem good. All the dolphins down here are freaking out about something!”
“Freaking out? What does that mean?”
“It means,” she answered, “that they’re going ballistic. Something bad is happening.”
On the ship, Lee Kenwood reached down and pressed another button, bringing up a window displaying all the sounds that IMIS was hearing. A black spectrogram presented the information on red and green graphs. The red one was pegged to the upper edge of the window.
“IMIS is completely overwhelmed,” Lee said. “And it’s not stopping.”
“Jesus,” Neely breathed. “Alison, what the hell is going on?! What is it that’s so bad?”
“I don’t know!”
In front of her, the wall of dolphins was steadily growing larger, intensifying the communication to a fevered pitch that was now only noise to the translation system.
“Lee had to stop all the translations, except Sally’s. And she says that something is here. But she can’t explain any more than that.”
“Something is here?” Neely asked. “What?”
“I don’t—” Alison paused, studying the massive group of dolphins. All moved slowly, facing primarily in one direction. She then peered up through the dark water to see part of the Pathfinder’s bottom above her.
“I think…” she said, tracing from what she believed was the stern forward to the bow, “they are facing in the direction of the Valant.”
Neely frowned, looking at Borger and Kenwood. “The oil rig?”
“I think so,” Alison repeated. “And they are really excited about something!”
“Alison, I think you’d better get back to the surface.”
Alison glanced at the dive computer on her wrist before shaking her head. “Not yet. I have more time.”
“I’m not worried about how much more time you have,” Neely’s voice shot back. “I’m worried about what the hell is happening.”
She nodded. “So am I. But I think I’m at a safe distance.”
Neely gritted her teeth in frustration. How could she know if she was at a safe distance when she didn’t even know what it was? She turned to Borger. “Could there be something wrong with the Valant?”
He shrugged. “Sure it’s possible. But what would cause this kind of reaction?”
“Something dangerous?”
Borger squinted. “But what from the Valant could pose a danger to them?”
“You tell me?”
Borger continued thinking. The vessel suddenly becoming unmoored? Or maybe a leak? He looked at Neely. “What if there’s still oil left in the rigging and it’s leaking?”
Neely’s eyes grew worried. “It wouldn’t take much to pollute this whole area!” She leaned toward the microphone and raised her voice. “Alison, could it be an oil leak from the Valant?”
“I don’t know, maybe. I’d have to get closer.”
“How much more time do you have left?” Neely asked.
Alison glanced at the dive computer again. “About twenty minutes.”
Neely’s voice grew even louder. “Twenty minutes or about twenty minutes?!”
“Twenty-two minutes,” Alison snapped back.
Neely looked at Borger, who was now shaking his head. “The Valant is a quarter of a mile away. She can’t make it there and back.”
In her earbuds, Alison could hear Borger. She immediately turned to Sally and found her still watching the others.
“Sally, what is happening?”
No know Alison.
“I need to get to the other metal. Can you take me? Important.”
Sally twisted her slick gray body and peered back.
“Important!” repeated Alison.
The words were translated, and she waited for a response from Sally. When it came, it was only one word.
Okay.
“You’ll take me?”
Sally paused again, as if considering.
Yes. Fast.
“Yes, Sally. Very fast!”
Neely straightened up, leaving a hand on the back of Lee’s chair.
“Where are Tay and Lightfoot?”
“They’re descending with the drill. With Gorski’s men.”
“Can we talk to them?”
He nodded. “From my machine, we can.”
With that, Neely put a reassuring hand on Lee’s shoulder and told him they’d be right back. Together, she and Borger raced out of the room and back to the lab, their feet pounding hard against the ship’s loud metal flooring.
82
Tay and Lightfoot were less than a hundred feet away from the alien ship when they heard Borger’s hurried voice over their headsets.
“Elgin! Are you there?”
Gorski’s men, Corbin and Beene, were on the other side of the drill. All four slowed their descent when they heard Borger.