Dex was actually fairly sure of what they were looking at down there, but as long as there was a chance he might be wrong, he didn’t want to get everybody’s hopes up. And Don Jordan was a naturally talkative guy. “I’d rather not say just yet.”
“Aw, c’mon! I won’t say anything.”
“Yes, you will.”
“Well, maybe… but just to these guys. I thought we were all in this together?”
“We are,” said Dex. “I just don’t want anybody getting too jacked up until we really know what we’ve got.”
“You want to try the computer? Maybe Doc was searching the wrong keywords?”
Checking his watch, Dex saw he had about forty minutes before he and Mike were scheduled for a second dive. Maybe he’d check out some databases. He stood up, tapped Don lightly on the shoulder. “Maybe I will. Hold down the fort. Let me know if anything changes, okay?”
“You got it,” said Don.
Exiting the bridge, Dex climbed down to the main deck and scanned the bay. The occasional sailboat lazed across its wide expanse, and to the north, he could see the sweeping double ribbons of the Bay Bridge. He stood there for a minute or two, closing his eyes and trying to imagine what it was like around here when that big sub was prowling these waters. Sixty-plus years can bring on a lot of changes. This part of the Bay near the end of the war was probably pretty desolate. Certainly nothing close to the sport and rec activity it supported now.
So what was that sub doing around here? Did it accomplish its mission? What happened to its crew? Would they be finding their bones piled into the corners of dark, flooded compartments? He’d dived plenty of wrecks, and he’d never gotten used to that moment when you floated head-first into a crammed space and saw some poor fucker’s skull suddenly glow in your torchlight. Those empty sockets staring forever into the black sea that had washed them clean. It was one of those reminders you could just as easily be looking at your own watery future.
Diving at any depth was nothing to take lightly. It was one of those thoughts you had to keep top of mind. As in: all the time.
Turning from the rail, he entered the deckhouse and took the stairs belowdecks to the galley. Mike was sitting at the small stainless steel table finishing up a sandwich and a soda.
“Anything new?” he said. Bite. Chew. Swallow. Drink.
“No problems. Tommy has the video. That might help.”
“Too bad we don’t have it rigged up to a remote system. We could keep an eye on it from up here.”
Dex smiled. “Too bad we all don’t have a million bucks…”
“There is that…” Mike said, then knocked off the last of the canned soft drink. He paused before adding: “What do you want to do on our second dive?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I’d like to see what it looks like on the inside. Maybe find something that will ID the boat. If there’s no breaks in the hull, we’ve got to find a hatch that still works.”
“Never been in a sub,” said Mike. “I have to figure that’s some pretty tight maneuvering with tanks on, isn’t it?”
“Sure it is,” said Dex. “It’s not for everybody. And don’t forget, even though this one looks pretty clean — it’s still a wreck. Anything could go wrong anytime.”
“What do you think it’s doing here?”
“No idea. We need to do some more snooping. Want to do a quick search on the internet too?”
“I already did,” said Mike. “While you were up on the bridge with Donnie, I went into the deckhouse. Doc was right — without the name, we don’t have much chance. I tried to see if there was any record of a wreck at these coordinates, but that’s a long shot. Nothing. If the Navy or the Coast Guard sank it, well, we’d have to get into their records. It’s not going to be on the internet.”
“Which means a couple things: we need to check some of the usual and not-so-usual places in the sub to find an ID tag, and we’d better be damned careful doing it… plus call in some favors.”
Mike grinned and Dex could almost hear the math professor’s mind clicking through a variety of possibilities. “Favor from who?”
Dex shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. We might have to poke around and ask a few questions. Kev might know somebody down at NavTronics, who has a connection with somebody at the Pentagon… you never know. Plus, I have some old Navy pals I can call. We might need to figure out how to get into the old Third Reich records.”
Mike nodded. “Yeah, it’s funny, but I have this feeling the Nazis were really good record-keepers.”
Dex checked his watch. “’Bout that time. You ready for another look around?”
“You bet.”
After waiting to see Kevin Cheever and Andy Mellow break the surface, Dex and Mike tipped into the bay, and began to work their way down the safeline that ran from the buoy to the anchor right alongside the wreck. Dex led the way, sweeping the area directly below with his torch. Stay vigilant.
“Okay, Doc, we’re on our way down. How’s it going?”
“Hey, Dex… hull looks good,” said Doc Schissel. “No holes we could see… unless it’s dead-on though the bottom, under the sand.”
“Probably not. It would look more twisted up, don’t you think?” Dex had angled himself for a rapid descent now that he knew what was beneath him. Despite the cloudy conditions, he should be able to see their lamps any second.
“Who knows? You’re supposed to be the freakin’ expert,” said Tommy Chipiarelli, trying to be funny.
“Okay, I see your torch,” said Doc. “I can see both of you.”
Slowing his descent, Dex let go of the safeline, letting Mike catch up. They were both floating off to the side of the U-boat. The visibility wasn’t great, but they all knew it was about as good as it gets. Not like spring, when the algae got a lot worse.
“How much air you guys have left?” he said.
“Couple of minutes,” said Doc.
“Enough to get into some trouble,” Tommy added. “What’ve you got in mind?”
Dex pointed at the aft section of the boat. “You guys find any way into that part?”
“There’s a hatch near the stern,” said Doc. “Looks like it’s open… a little.”
Gesturing with his torch to Mike, Dex started propelling himself past the conning tower toward the stern. He could see the other team waiting for him, and he suddenly realized how utterly at ease he felt with these guys. All the training and practicing had paid off. “Hang on, we’re working our way over to you right now.”
“No problem,” said Doc.
“Hey!” said Tommy, his voice almost cracking in the headphones. There was no volume control on Dex’s Divelink, and it was a little painful. “This thing’s definitely open!”
“Stay away from it, Tommy…” said Dex in as soft a tone as he allowed. He could see his red suit even through the dull veil of the bay. “Wait till we can all get a good look.”
“Hey, I’m okay. Just checkin’ it out.”
Another few seconds and Dex was hovering with the other three above the hatch, lighting it up with the combined beams of their torches. The hatch was tilted up maybe 10 degrees, revealing a sliver of access, but it was tough to see much inside because everything was fairly well encrusted with marine growth. Dex noted it appeared to be larger than others he’d seen on other subs. Definitely wide enough to accommodate a diver and his tanks.
“Let’s see if there’s any give in it, okay?” said Mike. He reached out to grab the edge of the hatch cover, waited until Doc shouldered up next to him. Then Dex pushed in as close as he could while Tommy floated off in front of them getting it all down on the digital recorder.