Sam nodded. “I know.”
Elise walked into the room. “I know who the third person was in that photo you sent me, Svetlana.”
“Who?”
“Luka Kuznetsov.”
Svetlana swore in her native language.
Sam said, “You’ve heard of him?”
“Of course, I have. He’s a senior official in charge of military research and development.” Svetlana swallowed hard. “And he’s also the president’s brother-in-law.”
Sam understood the implication immediately. Either Luka Kuznetsov was trying to buy the submarine for Russia, and there was a traitor within the U.S. Navy, or Kuznetsov was a traitor to Russia. Either way, it begged the question, was the president of Russia involved? Then he thought about the attack on the Chinese aircraft carrier, which was made to look like it had come from an American nuclear attack submarine.
“You know what someone’s trying to do?”
“Yeah, face the world’s superpowers off against each other.”
“The question is, who would gain the most from it?”
“Beats me,” she replied. “What will you do now?”
“I don’t know. It’s clear the USS Omega Deep might be the only thing that stands between us and war.”
Sam studied her, he had fallen into the easy way of communication he had with the rest of his crew, even though she was a known Russian spy. It was dangerous territory, but she had plenty of information to offer him, and he had no reason, or place to get rid of her at the moment.
He asked, “What do you want to do?”
She shrugged as though it wasn’t her problem. “I think right now that I’m the only thing stopping World War III from taking place.”
“How?”
“We need to get to the Omega Deep before anyone else.”
“How? We’ve already been through this — our original theory of where the submarine ended up has now been totally shot.”
She sighed heavily. “I might be able to help if you give me your bathymetric and Admiralty charts.”
Sam studied her through narrowed eyes. “Why should we trust you?”
“Because I have the coordinates for the wreckage of the Omega Deep.”
“What? You knew all this time? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How could I trust you? Besides, we only know now that finding that submarine is in our mutual interest, as possibly the only solution to avoid a clash between the world’s greatest superpowers.”
Sam dismissed his sense of betrayal. After all, he reminded himself he was dealing with a Russian spy. Instead, he turned the problem at hand, and asked, “Where?”
Svetlana grinned. “Somewhere inside the 8th Continent.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
The Maria Helena reduced its speed to a gentle cruise of just four knots.
Sam shook his head in disbelief. The coordinates Svetlana had given him had taken them to what appeared to be an ancient landmass, now buried in just 50 feet of water. The rough waters and large swell of the Southern Ocean were replaced by the perfectly still waters that concealed the 8th continent.
If you drew a line between New Zealand’s North Island and South America, and then cut it in half, and headed 500 miles due south, one would reach the strange place.
With the exception of Veyron, who was checking the towed monitoring array that would allow them to track the UV-emitting cadmium that Professor Douglas Capel had provided, the rest of Sam’s crew and Svetlana stood at the bridge. With Matthew at the helm, adamant that no one except himself would touch the wheel while the Maria Helena explored such uncharted areas. Sam and Tom simply studied the calm sea out through the windshield. Elise studied her laptop, which constantly received updated bathymetric data and correlated it with any location that might be concealing the USS Omega Deep. Svetlana studied the new-found land, her eyes sweeping the flat surface of the sea in awe, while Genevieve kept an eye on Svetlana, almost daring her to do something dangerous.
Sam struggled to understand how the place had remained hidden for so long.
His mind turned to the Dutch explorer Abel Tasman who discovered Van Diemen's Land, now named Tasmania, in 1642 before returning on another voyage in 1644, when he passed the coast of a mighty landmass, naming it Nova Hollandia.
That landmass was later charted by British explorer Lieutenant James Cook, on board the HMS Bark Endeavor, and named New South Wales, before later being named Australia. Cook’s charts depicted a coast very different to the one Abel Tasman produced. No one ever came up with a logical explanation for the discrepancy, but now, Sam wondered whether or not the Dutchman had in fact discovered the 8th Continent, back when it still existed above the water.
Could such a landmass have been destroyed in so little time?
Studying the bathymetric readings, Sam ran his eyes across the ancient river which opened up to a shallow underwater tabletop, covered in vivid and impressive coral gardens. A digital camera, designed for just such a purpose, was dropped overboard so that he could get a better visual of the submerged environment.
That image was displayed in color on a monitor next to the bathymetric readings.
Sam grinned.
It was a unique tropical playground that didn’t belong anywhere near the Southern Ocean. Tropical fish filled the place, swimming in and out through the coral reef, which was awash with color.
Fifteen minutes later, the Maria Helena reached the exact coordinates Svetlana had given them. Sam studied the bathymetric reports, which provided a 3D image of the seabed below by using an array of hydrophones which combined to provide the sonar image of the seafloor.
Matthew steered the Maria Helena in a counter-clockwise search grid, in an outward spiral.
Sam stared at the digital image of the sea below. The water was so clear and the visibility so good that he could make out every intricate detail on the seabed.
He crossed his arms. “Anyone see anything?”
There was a general murmur of “No.”
Tom said, “Shall we use the good professor’s cadmium?”
Sam’s face hardened. “Typical. We find a wonderful new coral ecosystem, and already we want to poison it with cadmium.”
Tom shrugged. “According to the professor’s instructions, nearly all of it should be absorbed by the blackbody paint on the Omega Deep’s hull.”
“That’s only if we’re within 10 miles, close enough for the two elements to find their natural affinity with one another.”
Tom met his eye. “I don’t think we have a choice. It’s not good, but it’s still only a small amount of cadmium and a lot less destructive than nuclear radiation if we can’t find the Omega Deep and this thing goes bad.”
“Agreed.” Sam switched on the powerful UV lights and camera which would track the movement of the cadmium. The monitor showed very little, except the brief outline of the seabed. He depressed the button on the local VHF radio microphone and said, “Veyron, can you please release the first canister of cadmium?”
“Understood. Releasing the cadmium.”
Sam watched as the heavier-than-water cadmium sank into the water. He involuntarily held his breath, as he watched the toxic element drift slowly to the south, before eventually getting caught on a rising submerged atoll, which prevented it from going any farther.
He cursed. “All right. Anyone got another idea?”
Svetlana said, “It seems to me that the material worked. It showed us that the USS Omega Deep is out there, presumably somewhere to the south of us.”
“You’re right,” Sam said. “Matthew, can you please take us across that reef?”
Matthew’s eyes ran across the bathymetric image of the reef, taking note of the exact depth at its highest point, and landing back on Sam’s determined face. “It will be shallow, but we should have a few feet to spare beneath our keel.”
“All right, let’s see what’s on the other side of that reef.”
Matthew eased the twin throttles gently forward, and the Maria Helena’s bow slowly edged toward the reef.
There was a concerned silence on the bridge, broken by the depth-sounder’s warning. It came on whenever the keel suddenly got within five feet of the seabed below. Matthew eased the throttles into reverse, slowing their forward momentum to a near standstill.
The Maria Helena drifted forward across the shallow reef, revealing a narrow valley or ancient river, running southeast, at a depth of fifty feet.
Sam’s lips curled slightly upward in relief. “We’ve crossed over.”
“Of course, we have,” Matthew replied. “You don’t really think I would have put the ship into any danger just because you wanted me to follow one of your whims, do you?”
Sam and Tom laughed.
Matthew was, by far, the most conservative member of the crew. It was a good trait to have for a skipper. And his high aversion to risk often came to clash with Sam’s carefree, risk-taking behavior.
Sam returned to the task at hand. “All right, Veyron. Can you please drop the second canister of cadmium?”
“Understood, releasing it now.”
Sam stared at the UV monitor and smiled as the cadmium followed the ancient river along its southeastern course.
Matthew didn’t need to be asked to follow. Instead, he shifted the throttles forward, and the Maria Helena began her pursuit.
The cadmium followed the river for nearly fifteen minutes before its weight finally caused it to catch on some coral. Sam stared at the UV monitor, as the fine particles thinned until there was nothing left to follow.
But it was obvious now that the submarine would have had trouble leaving the ancient valley, so they continued, taking the same route the USS Omega Deep had before them.
The submerged valley below opened up into a large open space, nearly a mile wide and ending in a concaved atoll, which rose nearly all the way to the surface.
Sam said, “This is it. There’s no way the USS Omega Deep would have cleared that reef.”
Matthew eased the throttles into reverse and brought the Maria Helena to a standstill. Sam ran his eyes across the bathymetric readings.
The seabed was full of sand.
Nowhere to hide a submarine so large.
Sam swallowed, feeling disappointment weigh him down. “I don’t get it. I was certain it was here.”
Svetlana glanced at the monitor and said, “What about here?”
He looked directly where she was pointing. There was a shallow curved indent in the sand that ran nearly 600 feet in a perfectly straight line. It very well could have been where the Omega Deep had originally run aground. There were even large piles of sand where scuba divers had obviously gone to the effort to free the submarine from its buildup of sand.
Sam said, “I don’t believe it. We’re too late. Someone’s already beaten us to it.”
Svetlana made a winning smile. “I wouldn’t bet on that.”
“Why not?” Sam asked.
She pointed to the almost negligible increase in water temperature surrounding the aft end of the depression in the sand. “That looks to me like the thermal runoff from their active nuclear reactor.”
Sam met her gaze. “You think the Omega Deep is right in front of us, hiding in plain sight?”
“Yes.”
Sam grinned, turned to Tom, and said, “Come on. There’s only one way we’re going to prove whether your dad’s submarine is down there.”