He approached the door cautiously after making sure no one saw him enter the alley from the street. He wasn’t worried just about the pickpockets and muggers who were sometimes in the employ of brothels. If the navy caught him here, he would be in some serious shit. And if they learned of McNamee’s particular proclivities, the shit would be deep enough to drown in.
His unusual tastes had already gotten him in trouble once, back when he was a janitor at a public school in Paris, Illinois. He had lost that job, although it was no great loss. He couldn’t think of anything more soul-deadening than pushing a mop through school halls day after day. It was probably why he had gotten bored and allowed his mind to wander, pick out an object for his affections, think about her day after day until finally…
The DA hadn’t prosecuted him right away. He was an old-fashioned guy, the DA, with that old “boys will be boys” attitude. He had given McNamee a choice: go to jail or leave town. He didn’t have to say it twice. Even if jail hadn’t been the other option, McNamee would have left. Paris, Illinois, may have been named after the City of Lights, but there the similarity ended. It was a two-street shit-burg in the middle of nowhere, and he was happy to leave it there. Joining the navy had been a no-brainer too. His own pop had been a navy man, so why not follow in the old man’s footsteps? As it turned out, those footsteps had led him to Hawaii and Naval Station Pearl Harbor.
An old Filipina woman opened the brothel door, and McNamee found himself in a small waiting room. On the walls were pictures of naked women and embracing lovers. Sculpted figurines stood on shelves and in corners, all of them erotically themed except for one: a grimacing face that was depicted as being made of feathers, or maybe flames. The old woman walked over to an elegantly crafted wooden table and sat behind it.
“Pardon me,” he said. “Is this…?”
He didn’t need to finish the question. “You’re looking for a girl for tonight?”
“That’s right, yes,” McNamee said. “That’s exactly right.”
“Then you’ve come to the right place,” the old woman said. “Tell me, what kind of girl are you looking for?”
He swallowed nervously and glanced around the room. They were alone, but he still felt unsafe saying the words aloud. He didn’t think his tastes were all that strange or wrong, but it seemed the rest of the world felt differently. That meant he had to be careful. He answered her in a whisper.
“I—I like them young,” he said. “Real young. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Not at all,” the old woman said, much to his relief. “She can be whatever you want her to be.”
She picked up a telephone from the table and spoke into it in a language McNamee had never heard before. The words made him shiver, though he couldn’t say why.
She put the phone down. “She’s ready for you.”
The old woman pointed to a door behind her desk. He walked through it and found himself in a room lit entirely with soft candlelight. His date for the night sat on a sofa, wearing a delicately patterned silk kimono. She looked about 13 or 14, on the cusp of becoming a woman, which was just how he liked them. God bless Waikiki. You really could get whatever you wanted here, as long as you knew where to look.
The girl smiled at him, enticing and unafraid. Her jade-green eyes twinkled. She rose, turned around, and walked into a hallway that led deeper into the building. There were no lights in the hallway. He couldn’t see where it led, and after a while he couldn’t see her anymore. The shadows seemed to swirl and close around her. Afraid he might lose her, he hurried after her.
In the hallway, there was nothing but darkness… and the sudden glow of eyes.
And then the teeth.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book began with a conversation. Several years ago, I had the pleasure of interviewing the late John Piña Craven, a former chief scientist for the US Navy’s Special Projects Office, whose many accomplishments include helping recover a missing hydrogen bomb and locating a sunken nuclear submarine. He is also rumored to have played a pivotal role in Project Azorian, a clandestine operation to raise a Soviet submarine that sank 1,500 miles north of the Hawaiian Islands—thus changing his job description from scientist to spy. John told me a great deal about what can go right on a submarine… and what can go wrong.
I found myself a bit lost as I began work on this novel. Other than a tourist sub named Atlantis, and the Finding Nemo ride at Disneyland, I had never actually set foot on a submarine. Fortunately, I knew a few people who had. Gerald Shealey, who served on SSN-709, helped me a lot. He’s also a good friend, even if he is a Golden State fan. Adam Bozarth, who served on Ohio-class boomers, helped as well. So did Karrin Peterson, who knows the navy and is a fine editor to boot. I also learned a thing or two from Harvey Hughes, who worked on 688s from the outside, as a navy deep-sea diver. Alex Baker built me a detailed scale model of a 688. Having that model on my desk helped me keep everything in perspective.
I want to thank editor Michael Carr and the dedicated team at Blackstone Publishing for turning this manuscript into a novel. I also thank my wife, Brooke, for putting up with this project, which took a lot longer than most of my other books.
Most of all, I want to thank the men and women—yes, as of 2016, women serve on US subs—who serve our nation in the “Silent Service.” These are not only America’s best and brightest; they’re our bravest too. Thank you for living 18-hour days 100 fathoms below to keep us all safe.
Nicholas Kaufmann wishes to thank Steven L. Kent, Richard Curtis, Michael Carr, and the amazing crew at Blackstone Publishing. Also, deepest thanks to Alexa Antopol for her continuing love and support.
Other Books by Steven L. Kent
The Clone Republic
Rogue Clone
The Clone Alliance
The Clone Elite
The Clone Betrayal
The Clone Empire
The Clone Redemption
The Clone Sedition
The Clone Assassin
The Clone Apocalypse
Star Crusader
Wing Commander III
The Making of Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within
The First Quarter: A 25-Year History of Video Games
The Ultimate History of Video Games
Star Wars: Galactic Battlegrounds
The Making of Doom 3
Other Books by Nicholas Kaufmann
Walk in Shadows: Collected Stories
General Slocum’s Gold
Hunt at World’s End
Chasing the Dragon
Still Life: Nine Stories
Dying Is My Business
Die and Stay Dead
In the Shadow of the Axe