Ancients

Again the men nodded in understanding. They all knew that military battle sights had a way of causing deep, soul-searching experiences, and none of them came close to scoffing at the idea of the Arizona being haunted.

'Okay,' one of the salvage divers said. 'SEALs are outside, conducting security sweeps. When we dive, they will relieve the UDT already providing security. The eight-man Underwater Demolition Team will then board the memorial platform and await demolition orders if needed. Let us hope that is not where we're headed.'

'The Mudzoos will then try to cut the safe open and remove the item in question,' Everett said, taking over the secure portion of the briefing. He looked at the schematic of the Arizona laid out before them. 'Now, we will execute the dive through this gangway here,' he said, pointing to a starboard stairwell. 'That will lead us down to the second deck closest to the bridge. I'll carry the DET cord and two quarter-pound charges of C-4; if it's not enough we can always send up for more--let's just hope we don't have to use it down there. Now, Ranger Chavez, the length of the companionway isn't that far?'

'Right,' answered Chavez. 'Thirty-five feet to the captain's stateroom.'

Everett was satisfied and he looked at his dive team. 'Ready?' he asked, looking at his watch.

Heads nodded around the large table. Everett then turned to Jack. 'Hopefully, we'll be right back, boss.'

Collins nodded, accepting Carl's decision that, with his limited dive experience, he could cause more harm than good. Jack knew that he was right.

Everett turned to Ranger Chavez. 'Permission to board the Arizona?' he asked officially.

'Permission granted, Captain.'

The SEALs and Mudzoos came to attention and then moved to the memorial's railing. For the first time in more than sixty years, American sailors would board the Arizona.

Dahlia watched from across the harbor. The powerful night-vision binoculars she used allowed her to see clearly the eight navy SEALs, two National Park rangers, and eleven navy salvage divers slide over the side of the memorial. The SEALs were clearly identifiable by their plain black wet suits and the arms they carried. She adjusted her view and saw four men watching the divers from above, on the observation deck of the memorial.

She lowered her binoculars and brought up a small electronic-file device. She hit Saved and several pictures started flicking across the small screen. She finally came to the image she wanted and looked closely at it, then looked at the lone figure standing in the open on the memorial.

'Damn,' she said, recognizing Colonel Jack Collins immediately.

It was now obvious to her that he was responsible for the navy having beaten her team here. He must be in custody of the two Ancients, she thought. Regardless, she decided that the strike element she had assembled should be sufficient and was satisfied that they could retrieve the plate map, so she raised her radio.

'Recovery One, you are go for incursion.'

She lowered the radio, raised her binoculars, and watched a fifty-man team slide away from the much smaller memorial for the USS Utah, a former battleship turned target ship used in the training of the newer, faster, Pennsylvania Class Battlewagons of the 1930s. The Utah, also sunk on December 7, 1941, was lying on her side on the bottom of Pearl not far from the Arizona. She provided the perfect location for the attacking force to enter the murky waters unseen.

The fifty-man assault-and-recovery element were excellent divers. All were former naval men from various countries. Their pay for this mission would be quite enough to retire and live a life of luxury. They would earn it.

As she trailed her team, she was happy to see no trace of them as they swam south from the Utah. They were using special rebreather units that allowed no telltale air bubbles to escape the completely closed-loop systems. Dahlia then moved her glasses to watch a special three-man team on Ford Island, not far from the Arizona. The image was in a sickly green ambient light, but she was clearly able to see one man as he reached for his radio. She smiled as she heard three distinct clicks transmitted. The three men had successfully severed the electrical cable that supplied power to the underwater sound and laser-fence security system guarding the Arizona from treasure hunters and souvenir seekers.

'Now, bring me my retirement,' she said as she adjusted her view to the memorial; she was satisfied as she watched the four men remaining on the observation deck.

Except for the pain-in-the-ass Colonel Collins, whom she knew to be one of the most formidable men she had ever seen, the men did not look like much of a threat. She and her small five-man team should have no trouble removing them from the surface equation.

Jack Collins looked at the names of the dead on the memorial and thought about how they had died. A surprise it had been, sudden and unexpected. Jack had always hoped never to lose anything as valuable as his men's lives in battle, but he was also wise enough to know that was one wish never granted to a leader. All one could do was be vigilant and try never to be surprised as the brave men on the Arizona had been. He turned away from the names and looked out on the harbor lights and Honolulu glimmering in the distance.

He raised his radio and depressed the Send button three times. Then he heard a return three clicks and was satisfied that his own surprise was ready.

Everett was the fifth in line as they passed over the Arizona's forward number-one turret. Although he had expected to see it, the scene was still something out of a ghostly dream as the handheld lights they used played over the rifled barrels. Marine growth had done nothing to diminish the menacing opening where at one time, long ago, one-and-a-half-ton shells had exploded out of the massive guns.

As they approached the starboard gangway next to the old bridge tower that navy salvagers had cut away almost sixty-five years before, the water seemed to become even blacker, giving every man on the excursion the chills.

The eight SEALs relieved the UDT element and Everett watched as they slowly made their way to the surface. The SEALs, armed with UPPs (underwater-pressurized projectiles) took up station patrolling the waters outside the great warship. The weapons they carried were multibarreled spear guns that could rapid-fire fifteen ten-inch-long darts at anything threatening the team.

Even in her deteriorating condition, the Arizona was still something to behold. Her dark skin was alive with marine life, and as he slid a hand along her starboard railing, Carl knew that she was truly still alive in more ways than one. With well over three-quarters of her crew still inside, how could she be anything else.

In the blackness of the harbor waters, a gaping maw slowly came into view in the dim lights ahead, and the gangway quickly followed that. The steel steps that led belowdecks were still intact and, if it had not been for the rust, looked as if men had used them just that morning.

The lead ranger went in first after attaching a nylon cord to the railing. The others followed slowly at five-foot intervals. Everett felt the minute pressure build as they descended into the darkness that led to the second deck of one of the most famous ships in history.

As they traveled down the passage, Ranger Chavez dropped a small dive marker about fifteen feet in and then turned to face the men following him. The Mudzoos knew what was happening, but Carl was curious as the yellow-green dye marker rose into the water of the passageway as if it were a ghost. Someone tapped Everett from behind. A navy salvage man had seen the questioning look on his face, so he had written something on his plastic board with grease pencil.

'Arizona crewman in the silt,' it said.

Everett personally could have gone all night without knowing that, but he knew that they had to be warned, so as not to disturb the area. He knew why diving on the Arizona was limited to personnel of the U.S. Navy and the National Parks Service only.

As he passed over the yellow-green marker, out of respect, he looked straight ahead and not down at the thick bed of silt where one of the Arizona's boys lay. Carl was then startled when he looked ahead of him and saw at least twenty more of the markers rising like small ghostly signals. He realized then that they were inside a most hallowed place.

Ahead, Everett knew, the rest of the Arizona crew lay where they had fallen at