minute.â
He watched the water grow lighter. Soon the bubble of his dome broke the surface. The brightness of the afternoon sun stung. He shaded his eyes. Off to the west, the seas burbled with steaming bubbles, marking the site of the undersea volcano. But off to the southeast, he spotted a dark blip. The Deep Fathom .
He hit the distress beacon, activating the GPS locator, then leaned back to wait. As he stared out over the water, a glint caught his eye. Curious, he sat up straighter. He reached and fingered the RMS controls to lift the two external arms. As they were raised, seawater dripped from the titanium limbs.
Jack sat straighter, bumping his head again. âIt canât beâ¦.â
Sunlight shone brightly off two large bricks, one clamped in each pincer. Heâd forgotten about grabbing them before fleeing the hold of the Kochi Maru . The gold bars had been scrubbed clean by the rough flight to the surface, but luckily, they had remained clamped in the hydraulic grips.
He whistled appreciatively. âThings are suddenly looking brighter.â
Georgeâs voice came on the line again. âJack, weâve got your GPS signal.â
âThatâs great!â Jack said, jubilant, barely hearing the words. âAnd make sure you have the champagne chilled!â
Georgeâs response was clearly puzzled. âOhâ¦okayâ¦but I thought you should know we just received a call on the Globalstar.â
Jack sobered, sensing an undercurrent of tension. âWhoâs calling?â
A long pause. âAdmiral Mark Houston.â
Jack felt as if heâd been slugged in the stomach. His former naval commander. âWh-What? Why?â He had hoped never to hear that name again. He had put that life behind him.
âHeâs ordered us to a set of coordinates. About four hundred nautical miles from here, andââ
Jack clenched his fists, interrupting. âOrdered us? Tell him to take his order and shove it upââ
Now George interrupted. âThereâs been a plane crash. A rescue operation is being gathered.â
Jack bit his lip. It was the Navyâs right to ask for his aid. The Deep Fathom was a registered salvage ship. Still, Jack found his hands trembling.
Old memories and emotions flared brighter. He remembered his awe at seeing the shuttle Atlantis shining brightly in the Florida sunshine, and the pride he felt upon learning he would be the first Navy SEAL to fly in that bird. But shadowing these pleasant memories were darker ones: flames, searing painâ¦a gloved hand reaching for him, voices screamingâ¦slipping, tumblingâ¦an endless fall.
Seated in the Nautilus , Jack felt as if he were still falling.
âDid you hear me, Jack?â
Shaking, he could not breathe, let alone answer.
âJack, the plane that crashedâ¦itâs Air Force One.â
2
Dragons of Okinawa
July 25, 6:30 A.M.
Naha City, Island of Okinawa, Japan
Crouching behind an alley trash bin, Karen Grace tried her best to avoid the military patrol. As she hid, two armed servicemen sauntered into view, flashlights in hand. One of them stopped to light a cigarette. Holding her breath, Karen prayed for them to pass. In the light of the match, she noticed the insignia on a sleeve. U.S. NAVY.
After yesterdayâs earthquakes, a state of martial law had been declared throughout the prefectures of Japan, including the southern island chain of Okinawa. Looters had been plaguing the city and outlying areas. The island leaders, overwhelmed by the level of destruction and chaos, had requested support from the local American military bases, to aid in clean-up, rescue, and protection of the damaged city.
The cityâs leaders had set a curfew for Naha from dusk to dawn, and Karen was breaking that new law. The sun was still a half hour from rising.
Moveâ¦keep walking , she silently urged them.
As if hearing her, one of the men raised his flashlight