Chapter 23

17:35 hours, U.S. Navy Guided-Missile destroyer Nalon Vet, the Yellow Sea, Pacific Ocean

“It took a bit of finagling to get me aboard,” Fay explained to Captain Fletcher. “But I pulled it off! And thanks for your support, Egan.”

“I can’t say I am in favor of this. But I know you well enough that a ‘no’ was not going to cut it,” Fletcher said with a chuckle. “Let’s go below. I want to introduce you to our team members.”

Fay and Egan made themselves comfortable in the captain’s stateroom.

A knock came at the door. “Enter,” Egan called in a commanding voice. The door swung open, and six men entered.

The word “surprised” would not capture the feeling that gripped Fay at that moment. This was well beyond it. “Sergeant Linn!” She exclaimed as she sprang to her feet. “Mr. Rayzon. Mr. Wu. Mr. Lawrence. Mr. De Vinsone. Hello all!”

“Ma’am,” each man responded, along with a nod.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Linn said. “I would like for you to meet Luke Valentine. He’s our number six.”

Fay smiled. “Good to meet you, Mr. Valentine.”

“Captain Rayzon, Delta Force,” Linn said, “will brief us on your mission.”

Captain Rayzon, Fay noted. One more item regarding Mr. Rayzon, aka Major Irvin, had been struck from her James Rayzon list of mysteries.

“Thank you,” Rayzon replied. “Faydra, we are here to conduct a double op. Yours is not related. Lawrence will team with you for your dive on the Carr. Your mission is to search for clues that may shed light on the matter of the death of Mr. Rodman. And, time permitting, to review Captain Nevada’s stateroom for top-secret data that Captain Nevada inadvertently left.”

“So noted and clear,” Fay replied.

“Not including your descent and return, you will have thirty minutes to conduct your search. Lawrence is your team leader, and considering this op’s dangerous nature, you are to follow precisely his every direction,” Rayzon instructed.

Fay responded, “Mr. Lawrence, I wish I could say this pairing is a pleasure. Instead, I will thank you for accepting the responsibility to protect my life.”

“Ma’am, it is my honor. I could ask for no better partner.”

“There will be two other teams diving as well, Fay,” Rayzon informed her. “A team led by myself, and another team who you have not yet met. If you come with me, you will meet them now.”

Faydra and James, accompanied by Egan, left Fletcher’s stateroom. After traveling through a series of passageways, they arrived at the ship’s stern storage area. Centered in the dimly lit room were two water-filled structures resembling large aquariums. The entire scene was reminiscent of something from a science fiction film.

Fay counted three dark forms moving around the structures. She could tell they were sailors, but she could not see their faces in the dim light.

“Are they sleeping?” James asked a sailor standing near one of the structures.

“They’re resting, sir. But it’s time they got busy, so we’ll roust them for you,” the sailor replied.

The sailor drifted back into the shadows. Soon, the intensity of the light in the room increased. James motioned to Fay to move closer to the structures.

She responded. Peering down into one of the five-foot-high structures, her gaze locked onto something floating. She said, “It’s a dolphin!”

“A bottlenose dolphin,” James said. “Meet your diving partners. The one on the right is Romeo; the other is Juliet.”

Fay was astonished; she instinctively reached down into the tank to pat Romeo on the head. “James, I had no idea.”

The two dolphins seem to respond to her voice with a series of soft clicks. “They recognize you as an officer,” James said. “They’ll expect a return salute.”

She straightened and saluted the two dolphins. She could not help but add a generous smile.

“They’ve been trained to work with Navy divers,” Egan said. “These two were responsible for locating the Carr, attaching locators to the hull, and guiding our divers in the dark water to the wreck. They’ve proven invaluable.”

Fay stood admiring the magnificent mammals. “I have read about the Navy’s use of dolphins. I never dreamed I’d be involved with them.”

“They’ll be your best friends on this dive,” Egan said. “Your life will depend on them.”

“They’re so sweet,” Fay remarked as Romeo and Juliet chirped back and forth to one another. She momentarily forgot she was going to risk her life. There was something special about the dolphins that gave her an overwhelming sense of confidence.

“Romeo and Juliet seem to like you, ma’am,” James observed. “They make good bodyguards.”

“Bodyguards?”

“The sharks, Fay,” James said. “As you well know, it’s so dark down there you could virtually swim right down the throat of a Megalodon and not know it until it closed its mouth on you.”

She cringed at the thought. If this was his last and best shot at making her change her mind, he almost succeeded. “I’ve had it happen in the courtroom, Mr. Rayzon. Plenty of sharks in the attorney ranks.”

“Romeo and Juliet will keep the sharks at bay while you transit to and from the wreck. They’re very good at it.”

“Thanks. I feel much safer knowing that.”

“Let’s get ready to dive,” Egan said. “You have a date with the ship’s doctor; you’ll get a complete physical before you’re allowed near the water.”

****

01:15 hours

Fay and Egan watched from the stern of the Nalon Vet. Simultaneously, a sailor team lowered Romeo and Juliet’s slings into the water. Fay’s eyes were transfixed on the water.

Without shifting her gaze, Fay said, “Just have a warm blanket, a pot of coffee, and a bottle of rum ready for me when I return, sir.” She turned to face Egan. Ignoring protocol, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for being here for me.” She had grown quite fond of the handsome captain.

“Always,” he replied.

Fay turned and descended the ladder to the waiting boat. She dug deep into her soul to gather what courage she now carried with her to the dark and foreboding place known to all seafarers as “Davy Jones’ Locker.”

The frigid night air slapped her face as the small boat raced across the flat surface of the night water; sea spray soaked her face and hands. She squinted and fixed her gaze on the wall of black now standing before her. I’m going to need severe beauty salon time when I get back to civilization, she thought.

Shortly after, the boat arrived at the prescribed dive location. The dive team donned their facemasks and tested their gear—then, one by one, the divers rolled backward from the boat and into the water. Fay was last to leave the safety of the small boat.

The cold salt water stung her skin momentarily, until the thin layer of water between her skin and her wetsuit warmed to a tolerable temperature. She bobbed on the surface for a moment, then flicked on her underwater torch. Fay then slipped beneath the water’s surface and began her descent toward the bottom.

The wreck was ninety feet below. The Carr came to rest upright on the edge of a reef. The ship had not completely settled and was subject to shifting with each tide change. All good reasons for her to exercise extreme caution.

Nothing could have prepared Fay for the frightening feeling she experienced as she struggled to see and gain some sense of direction. She could tell she was sinking, but only because the luminous dial of her depth gauge so indicated. Following the eerie flickering lights of the three torches preceding her, she suppressed her fear and the feeling of claustrophobia by thinking of those people nearest to her heart.

Occasionally, the glow cast by the divers’ torches below her would momentarily disappear. She supposed—prayed—it was perhaps Romeo or Juliet passing between her line of sight and the torches, temporarily interrupting the beams of light, rather than a predator.

Fay grew fascinated by the many air bubbles emitted by the divers, reflected in the light of their torches’ eerie glow. Like a surreal field of vapor flowers, they appeared and disappeared as they slowly wobbled toward the surface. Fay reached for a bubble but instead found it to be a jellyfish, not a bubble as she had first thought.

Fay stopped sinking. Although she could not see it, she assumed they had reached the wreck. She brought her wrist to within inches of her face to check the luminous reading on her depth gauge. Eighty-seven feet.

She strained her eyes in a vain attempt to see through the black water. Fay may as well have been swimming in a cup of coffee. All she could see was the light from the torch she held in her hand. She experienced complete disorientation. No up, no down. Someone, Andrew Lawrence perhaps, grasped her wrist. He was dragging her somewhere. She saw a deck rail, then a deck, and finally passed through a hatchway. They were now inside the Carr. There was only one light ahead of her—Andrew’s.

The two divers swam along a passageway, around a corner, down a ladder. Fay felt confident Andrew knew where he was going. She repeated her diving mantra, breathe slowly, breathe naturally, again and again. The two divers reached another hatch; she assumed it was the entrance to Nevada’s stateroom.

In the light cast by their torches, Andrew motioned for her to enter. Fay paddled past him and into the room. He stayed outside. She found it much easier to see once she was inside the room. The gray metal walls reflected the light from her torch.

Her habit was to observe—the Lord had blessed her with a photographic memory, a handy tool for a lawyer and a detective. Captain Nevada’s quarters were a disaster. A bunk, a desk with a PC, a wooden closet door ripped from its hinges, a gray carpet. The room’s porthole was securely closed.

She pushed shut the hatch to Nevada’s stateroom, looked behind it, and then swam to the closet. Fay sensed a slight vibration around her; the ship was settling. Sweeping the beam of her torch up overhead, she observed numerous electrical wires had been dislodged and now looped down into the cabin like large black spider webs. She glanced at her dive watch; fifteen minutes remained.

A sharp metallic sound, coming from the hatch’s direction, caught her attention. Fay turned the beam of her torch toward the hatch. Someone was tapping on it. Tink, Tink, Tink.

Fay swam to the hatch, reached for the handle, and pulled. The hatch would not open. She tugged again; the hatch would not budge. When the ship settled, the bulkhead must have buckled, causing the hatch to jam. The pounding she heard was Andrew trying to free it. She knew in an instant she would be trapped in Nevada’s stateroom unless she and Andrew could release the hatch. Don’t panic. Breathe slowly. Breathe naturally. Breathe.

Their efforts were futile; the hatch was sealed, permanently. The tap was now rhythmic, like Morse code. Andrew was sending her a message; she tried to remember her Morse code, but her brain seemed fogged. She tapped back to let him know she was all right. Then the tapping stopped. Once again, she glanced at her dive watch. Five minutes. Don’t panic. Breathe, she repeated. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

****

Eighty-seven feet above, Egan Fletcher paced the Nalon Vet’s bridge, repeatedly looking at his watch. “Any word from the dive teams?” he said into a hand-held radio.

“Sir,” replied the metallic voice, “one team is in the boat, one team is still down.”

He knew the answer to his next question but asked it, anyway. “Which team is still down?”

“Lieutenant Commander Green and Petty Officer Lawrence, sir.”

Fletcher shut off the radio. “Damn it!” He slammed the palm of his hand hard into a nearby bulkhead. “Damn, I knew it!” Time had run out. “Recall the boat,” he announced to the bridge crew. “Prepare to get underway, X-O.”

“Aye, aye, Skipper,” was the reply.

“X-O, when the two divers are aboard and have been secured, set your course for one-eight-five, ahead one-third,” Fletcher instructed.

“Sir?” the X-O questioned.

“Course one-eight-five, X-O,” Egan patiently repeated. “Ahead one-third, no deviation, until I return to the bridge. I’m going to my quarters.”

The X-O paused momentarily. He looked his captain quizzically in the eyes. A slight grin formed on his lips, and then he turned to the helm and confirmed the order, “Course one-eight-five, ahead one-third.”

****

Andrew was gone. Fay didn’t blame him. His air was low, and he, too, would miss the Vet if he did not return on schedule. She turned the beam of light away from the hatch and back into the room. The porthole! I can squeeze through the hole. I’m thin.

Swimming toward the porthole, Fay caught a glimpse of the PC on the desk. She thought of Pearce and recalled something the other woman had said to her, “You can find anything on the Internet.” She swam to the PC, rummaged through the desk’s drawers, and found what she was looking for, a small box filled with the PC’s flash drives. Hastily, Fay tucked them in her wetsuit, then swam for the porthole.

She was swimming, but she was not moving. She was horrified to discover her air tank was fouled on one of the loose overhead wires. She would have to remove the tank to free herself. Her numb fingers fumbled with the clasps holding the tank to her back. Finally, she was free. She tugged on the tank to release it, knowing she had little time to spare. Keep your head. Don’t panic. Breathe normally. Conserve air. She needed to shed the tank anyway if she hoped to squeeze through the small porthole. It would be nice to pull the tank through the hole with her. But time was against her, and the tank was tangled. She took one last gulp of air, released her weight belt, and swam for the porthole. It opened easily. She wiggled through the opening and floated to the surface.

Fay inhaled a massive gulp of air on her arrival at the surface. She searched for the silhouette of either the boat or the Nalon Vet. In the darkness, she could see neither. And where was Andrew? She glanced at her dive watch. “No!” she yelled. Ten minutes late. Good God, of all times to be late!

The Vet was gone, and she was alone—abandoned—somewhere in the Yellow Sea. Her neoprene suit’s buoyancy caused her to float on her back, her feet parallel with her head. There was a calm sea, a full moon, and she felt wholly immersed in a womb of silence. She sensed warmth. What now? The current might carry me to shore. I wonder if I will be dead by the time I wash ashore in the Marquesas Islands? She talked to herself out loud: “Then again, if I were to wash ashore on a North Korean beach, it would make it easier for the Koreans to find me.”

She floated for a while, then felt a bump. Someone who had experienced a shark attack once had told her before a shark attacks its prey, it first bumps its intended victim with its snout. This person was by no means an expert on the subject.

Fay held her breath and waited. Where is it? The silence was broken by what sounded like thousands of large raindrops striking the surface of the water. Fay knew the sound: a school of small fish was jumping nearby. They do it when a larger fish is chasing them. They leap out of the water to escape the predator who is hunting them. I wish I could jump from the water right now.

Her floating arms spread wide, Fay resembled an ancient religious martyr tied to a cross, looking up at the moon—thinking. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I know what I forgot to do—the damn traffic ticket. I forgot to pay it before I left Bremerton. By now, they’ve issued a warrant for my arrest. Now I’m in real trouble.” She smiled. Hey, I can defend myself in court. I will save me money. No problem. Don’t panic. I wonder if the shark thinks I look like a seal? I hope not. Again, the bump. Something significant—yet a gentle bump, almost a nudge. Her mind was not playing fair. A vivid image of a massive Jaws-like creature hovering twenty feet below, lining up for his final lunge, came to her. She laughed. One rump roast, coming up.

Another bump. Fay slipped the large dive knife from its sheath on her leg. “Come on, you coward! You wanna piece of me?” she yelled. “Eat me, you sorry excuse for a fish! Come on!”

There was a faint sound, but a sound just the same. It was the sound of a boat. A North Korean patrol boat? Her situation was improving. I now have options: shark bait or target practice. They shoot spies, don’t they? Do I yell or not? She bobbed on the black surface of the Yellow Sea, carefully weighing her options.

The sound of the engine was growing louder. It’s decision time. Suddenly she was moving through the water. Her friend Jaws had grabbed her; she was going for a ride toward the sound. Of course! Romeo! He’s been nudging me in an attempt to comfort me; now he’s dragging me toward the sound of the boat! “Good job, sailor!” she yelled. I hope he knows what he is doing. Of course, he knows.

Only several feet from the boat, she realized it was not a Korean patrol boat, but rather the vessel that had delivered her to the wreck of the Carr. The two figures aboard were familiar as well. They appeared to be Egan and Andrew. Fay spat a long stream of seawater from her mouth while she treaded water, waiting for the boat to come within reaching distance. Calmly she said, “Hey guys. What took you so long?” She coughed. “I was beginning to think y’all stood me up or something,” she sputtered. “I do know I’m in big trouble when I get back home. There’s a warrant out for my arrest, you know.” She coughed again. “I’m going to have to buy a different car; the one I have is causing me far too much trouble of late.” She looked down into the water. “Hey, are you guys going to stand there and listen to me babble all night long? Or are you going to pull my freezing ass out of here before this shark decides I’m the full-meal deal and turns me into a human sushi snack?”

Egan grabbed Fay by her forearm and lifted her limp body into the boat. She did not respond.

“I think she fainted, sir,” Andrew said, cradling Fay’s head in his lap as the small boat skipped across the flat sea toward the safety of Nalon Vet. He began massaging the circulation back into her nearly frozen face.

Andrew then slipped a syringe out of a small pouch attached to his utility belt. He carefully cut a section of wetsuit away from her leg with his knife then gently plunged the needle into her thigh. “She’ll be all right, sir.”

Fay awoke with a start. She looked up into the face of a man with blonde hair, sky blue eyes, cherub-like rosy cheeks, and a glorious white smile and said, “I’m in heaven, aren’t I?”

“No, ma’am,” Andrew said, “You’re still in hell with the rest of us freaks.”

“Thank goodness,” she said. “Where am I?”

“You’re here with us. You’re safe,” Egan assured her. “Rest now; everything is all right.”

“I don’t remember a thing. Did I get to the Carr?”

“You did, and now you’re here with Captain Fletcher and me.”

“Andrew, I don’t remember anything. The entire trip down to the Carr was totally wasted. I am so sorry to have bothered y’all.” Fay struggled to sit upright. “I gotta go back,” she said. “I have to remember.” Her arms and legs felt like mush. He helped her into a sitting position. “The field of vapor flowers, Egan. I have to go back.”

“The vapor flowers are gone,” Egan said.

Soon, Fay regained her strength. Andrew and Egan were preoccupied, so they did not notice her slip over the boat’s side, back into the icy black water. She knew she needed to get back to the Carr. She hoped she could find it again.