The hulking ruin of the sunken submarine emerged from the blue-green gloom of the deep. Ghost-like and silent on the ocean floor, U-886 still looked like the menacing predator she had once been.
The sub had struck end on and settled upright. The stern section was crushed and buckled. The bow pointed straight down a steep slope covered with thick mud and silt. The slope ended at an undersea cliff that dropped off into fathomless depths.
Sea growth encrusted the wreck. Bizarre clumps and shapes hung from the railings and guns. Pale yellow fronds and long green streamers trailed in the current. The sea floor around the submarine was stained reddish brown from rust, as if U-886 had bled to death in her final agony.
The visibility was good, but Selena reminded herself to be cautious. It wouldn't take much to stir up a cloud of particles and turn everything murky.
The British depth charges had ripped a long, ragged gash on the starboard side, exposing the central corridor to the sea. A painted white shield with a black sword and swastika was still visible on the conning tower.
Nick's voice sounded in Selena's earpiece.
"Lamont. What's your status?"
"It's the right sub. We're looking at her. She's almost upright. She's ripped open and the stern is collapsed. We're not going to find anything aft. The center section looks accessible. I'm going to take a look now."
"Roger that. Selena, you okay?"
"I'm good. You should see this. There's a painted badge on the tower, sword and swastika on a white shield."
"Most of the U-Boats had badges. They identified the boat and her crew."
Lamont and Selena reached the breach in the hull and turned on their lights. The bright white beams lit up the dark interior of the wreck. Cables and wires hung down and swayed in the current, their crisp outlines blurred by sea growth. Fallen pipes lay rusting on the deck.
Selena's light cast strange shadows inside the sub. If this were a recreational dive, she'd never have thought of going in. The opening into the hull was jagged and sharp. It reminded Selena of the maw of a primeval beast, waiting for unsuspecting prey to swim through.
Waiting for her and Lamont.
The transceiver crackled. "Nick, I'm ready to go in. Selena, you hang back behind me, give me some light."
"Roger."
Lamont eased through the gap and hung suspended. He shone his light down the passageway.
"I can see the control room. The hatch is open, that's a break. They must not have had time to get it closed. Some pipes down, cables, not too bad."
He moved into the blackness of the sub's interior. Selena followed him in and shone her light through the dark water after him. Through the open hatchway she could see the periscope column and a bank of gauges in the control room. Clusters of valve wheels, rusted pipes and sagging conduit lined the ceiling and walls. Debris lay everywhere, covered in yellowish silt. Lamont's passage sent small clouds of sediment drifting in her beam.
Her light caught something white. A half buried skull looked up at her from the floor.
Lamont paused in the control room. "Bones on the deck," he said. "The depth gauge glass is cracked and the needle is stuck right on 76 meters. 228 feet. That's about right. There's a box by what's left of the radio. I'm going to open it."
Selena watched Lamont fumble with something out of view.
"It's junk. Looks like some kind of typewriter."
Lamont moved about in the wreckage of the control room. He tugged on a cabinet door above his head. The door came open in a cloud of rust particles. He reached in and withdrew a flat, black object. It turned to a soggy mass in his hands.
"Found what was probably the log book. It's no good, turned to slime." He dropped it on the floor. He turned away from the periscope column.
"Now I'm looking at the captain's corner. There's still a piece of the curtain left."
Selena felt a vibration. She glanced outside. Sediment swirled around the sub.
"Lamont, the current is picking up."
"Roger. Hold your station." She saw him grasp a bulkhead and disappear from view as he moved into the captain's alcove.
Lamont shone his light around the confined space. A disjointed skeleton lay on the floor. Fragments of dark cloth clung to the bones. The empty sockets of a narrow skull gaped up at him, the lower jaw fallen away. The legs still wore high leather jack boots, turned a soggy, brownish green. Something poked through the white bones. Lamont reached down and pulled it out, brushed silt aside. It was a brown oilskin pouch. He placed it in the bag hooked on his belt.
The sub moved. The delicate balance keeping U-886 in place for so many years had been disturbed.
"Lamont, the sub's moving. Get out!" Selena tried to keep the fear out of her voice.
"Roger."
The submarine groaned and tilted. Selena braced against the movement. Pipes broke away from the ceiling and Selena saw one strike Lamont on the head. A sudden, thick cloud of particles blocked her view.
"Lamont. Lamont, talk to me."
There was no response.
"Selena, what's going on?" Nick's voice came over her headset.
"The sub moved. Lamont's hurt. He's not answering. I'm going in after him."
"For Christ's sake, be careful. Talk to me, Selena. Let me know what you're doing." Fear flooded her body and her heart began thumping in her chest. She forced herself to slow her breathing. With more than two hundred feet of water above her, too much breath could be fatal.
"I'm going in. I can't see much, too much stuff in the water. I can't see Lamont yet. There are pipes and cables down, but I can get past them." She pushed a tangle of wires aside, death traps moving about in the murk like slime covered spiders reaching for her.
"Talk to me." Nick's voice was calm, soothing. "Take your time. Lamont's gear will keep him alive. Don't rush."
"A couple of pipes came down in the corridor, but I think I can get through them. Wait one."
Selena pushed one of the pipes aside and swam past. She swam through the hatchway. In the swirling silt she saw Lamont pinned against the deck, a pipe across his chest. His eyes were closed behind the mask, his mouth open.
"Lamont's unconscious. There's a pipe across him, not too big." She reached down with both hands and lifted the pipe away. She heard a strange groaning, an eerie, low, metallic moan. She felt the sub moving. She wanted to get out of there. She fought her panic, concentrated on Lamont.
Selena started back through the passage, pulling Lamont behind her. The sub groaned again and began to vibrate. The water inside was filled with clouds of silt. She could see nothing at all in the murk. She worked by touch and instinct through the fallen pipes, dangling wires and cables, praying she wouldn't get snagged. She reached the opening in the hull and pulled Lamont out. The wreck was beginning to move away under her feet. Grasping him under one arm, she backpedaled toward the mooring line.
The sub picked up speed as it slid down the steep slope. Roiling clouds of silt churned out from under the stern, as if the huge engines had come back to life. The black swastika and white shield gleamed like a demon's eye in the ocean light as the long, narrow shape moved away. Streams of seaweed trailed from the conning tower. They look like flags, she thought. Flags, on a ship of the dead.
The submarine went over the edge of the cliff.
For a brief moment she held her course, as if a ghostly hand was at the helm. Then the bow nosed down and the wreck disappeared into the black depths. A thick cloud of particles billowed up from the sea floor.
"Nick, I've got him, I'm coming up. The sub's gone." She looked at Lamont's oxygen meter. Still safe.
"Roger. Remember your stops."