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Gordon let O’Keefe go first before shaking Mullins’s hand in turn. “It’s okay with me. The sooner we get things started, the faster we finish.”

O’Keefe dropped his bags before throwing his hands up in the air. He was pumped to go back down into the deep. “Woo! I can’t wait to get going.”

Mullins gestured for them to follow him inside. “I’ll bring you over to your cabin.”

Gordon followed right behind the diving supervisor as they went down several flights of metallic, white painted stairs. The Skandi Aurora was one of the bigger diving support vessels in the industry, with several lounges, a gym, and even a small movie theater. Unfortunately, their group would hardly have any access to the ship’s amenities for most of the voyage.

O’Keefe trailed behind the other two but his voice was the loudest. “Have we got any internet this time, Matt? I want to bring my laptop into the sat chamber so I can keep chatting with my girlfriend online.”

Mullins shook his head while leading them down a corridor. “We’re working on it. But if it makes you feel any better I can pretend to be your girlfriend while talking to you on the intercom if you want.”

Gordon suppressed the urge to laugh. He liked working with Matt, for he always managed to relieve the tension with his penchant for snarky humor.

“No, thanks,” O’Keefe said. “I’ve saved a ton of her voice recordings on my laptop and smartphone, so I’ll be alright. Heck, I even recorded several hours of her telling me bedtime stories.”

Mullins stopped in front of one of the cabin doors and opened it. “Well, you’re set then, O’Keefe. Here’s your cabin, guys. I’m sorry but you’ll both have to share this one too because we’re full up.”

Gordon stepped inside. Compared to the cabins of the other ships he’d been in, this one was much roomier, with opposite bunks and even small writing tables and chairs to sit in. A flat-screen TV was suspended above the door, and a single porthole adorned the opposite end of the room. He placed his duffel bags on top of the right side bed before sitting down on the mattress.

O’Keefe nodded while he dropped his bags beside the night table. “Not bad, not bad at all. We got internet over here though, right?”

“Only in the recreation rooms and inside the sat chamber,” Mullins said. “There’s going to be a briefing in a few hours, so I’d suggest you guys get some grub real soon.”

Gordon took off his heavy jacket and hung it inside the narrow closet beside the bed. “The mess hall is open I hope.”

“Sure,” Mullins said. “I’ll even tell them to hand out the menus to you so you can try any of the offered meals before you get into the chamber. That way you can tell them to make any adjustments if you need it.”

“Sounds great to me,” O’Keefe said. “So what’s the deal? What are we supposed to be working on?”

“I’ll tell you guys about it during the meeting later,” Mullins said. “For now, just relax and get ready. The gym is open at all hours if you need a quick workout before going in.”

“You’re at least going to tell us who we’ll be diving with, right?” Gordon asked.

Mullins gestured with his chin. “Since you two ladies are well acquainted, then you’ll be dive partners. The other two with you in the chamber are Langley and Rasmussen. Two divers per bell, and ROVs will be down there with you all the way.”

Gordon nodded. ROV stood for remotely operated vehicle, small submersible drones operated from topside to both help and observe the divers. “Who’s gonna be running the ROVs?”

“Izzy Kozlowski,” Mullins said. “She’ll be in the room next to me on topside.”

O’Keefe sounded impressed. “Isabel is good. I’ve worked with her before. Bill Langley is a quiet guy, keeps to himself so he’s okay. Haakon Rasmussen is a nice dude, but smells like a herring right after his dive.”

“Good, I’ll make sure Rasmussen bunks underneath you then,” Mullins said before turning around and walking out the door. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Hey!” O’Keefe called after their supervisor, but Mullins was already halfway down the opposite length of the passageway and pretended to ignore the younger man’s protests.

Turning around, O’Keefe pointed at Gordon. “Please grab the bunk above me the moment we get inside the chamber, okay?”

Gordon shrugged. Everyone preferred the lower bunks because they generally had more room due to the hyperbaric chamber’s curved walls. “I can only get that chance if I’m first in there, and I’d rather be last.”

O’Keefe lowered his voice. He knew what had happened to Gordon, and he needed to make sure they were both on the level, for there were plenty of hazards they would be facing together. “You alright?”

Gordon could tell the other man was concerned. “I’m fine. Let’s just drop it, okay? The company’s doctors cleared me to dive, and I promise I won’t let you down.”

“Hey, I’ve got you,” O’Keefe said. “If you need anything just let me know.”

Gordon paused briefly before he answered. “Did that Poole guy tell you anything else?”

“The only other thing I know is whatever they did, I think we’re the ones sort of cleaning up after them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not really sure,” O’Keefe said. “It was the last thing Poole told me before he passed out from all the beer he’d been downing.”

10

DINNER ON BOARD THE Skandi Aurora was better than expected. Gordon had a big juicy rib-eye steak, home fried potatoes, and a salad with lots of ranch dressing. With each bite he felt satisfied, thoroughly spoiling his taste buds before their inevitable numbing down. From experience he knew the moment the life-support technicians pressurized the hyperbaric capsule it would affect his sense of taste, and almost everything he ate while inside would be mostly bland due to the effects of the gas mix and the pressure.

His partner sat with him in the mess hall, chowing down on spicy turkey enchiladas downed with endless cans of amber lager. They both knew that this would be their last chance to get drunk until after the dive was over, but Gordon didn’t want any of it and had just a single pint of stout instead.

While O’Keefe would blurt out something about his girlfriend or his dirt bike trips with every bite, Gordon ate quietly, his thoughts turned inward. The nightmares had happened again, right while he was napping on the flight over to Dubai. A slight sense of apprehension made him shudder a little, as he feared the bad dreams would come to him while inside the capsule with the other guys.

I can’t let it affect me. Tactical breathing, tactical breathing, he thought over and over again. Concentrate on the job and procedures. Don’t let your thoughts wander.

O’Keefe continued to talk as he downed the last can of beer. “And so I said to her, ‘come on, babe, you’ll have to sing it like Dylan, or else I’ll have to cry myself to sleep.’ And so she did and I recorded it. I think I’ll even fiddle around with the special effects app and make it look like a professional music video.”

Gordon swallowed the remaining bits of steak, savoring the meaty, grilled morsel as if it was his last.

O’Keefe raised his eyebrow. “Yo, were you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, you said your girlfriend looked like Bob Dylan, right?”