“No, that shouldn’t be necessary.”
The president of the company took a flashlight and made his way inside. Attached to a hook on the wall of the container was a large crowbar. He quickly snatched it off the wall and tucked the flashlight between his cheek and shoulder. Using the flat end of the crowbar, he pried open one of more than a hundred wooden crates stacked inside the container. With a little effort, the lid popped up, revealing finely shredded wood that acted as a nest for the contents.
After setting the crowbar aside, he reverently pushed aside the packing material. The flashlight instantly reflected off the shiny cylindrical canisters resting inside. A smile came over the face of Henry Jorgensen Gruber Jr., the grandson of Brit Jorgensen, who arrived in Argentina under cover of darkness in the fall of 1944 to make a home for herself.
He raised the canister into the air and whispered, “We will rise from the ashes.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Aboard the Sea Searcher II
One Hundred Seventy Miles North of Puerto Rico
North Atlantic Ocean
Once the DSC-6 had reached the surface, it was a beautiful, bright sunny morning. The Sea Searcher II crew worked quickly to pull the submersible onto the deck of the ship and secure it. As they’d been told in advance, Gunner, Cam and Bear were to be examined by the ship’s physicians in the infirmary followed by a debriefing with the head of the research team. That debriefing never happened.
After Gunner was examined and released, he excused himself to the restroom. Instead, he slipped past the escort assigned to him by the ship’s captain and made his way back to his temporary quarters while on the ship. He retrieved his phone and called the Den to speak with Ghost.
“There’s a lot more going on here besides some mysterious substance inside these canisters,” he began his explanation to Ghost, who also had Jackal on the speakerphone in his office. “On the way back to the surface, we did some cursory calculations. It would’ve taken at least two submersibles with a couple of two-man crews working together to empty the wreckage of all those canisters.
“As I now know because of my exhaustion, there’s no way it could be pulled off in that short a time frame without backup personnel supporting them from topside.”
“I can scour the NSA recon satellites for the region,” said Jackal. “Maybe I can identify a vessel or vessels in the area operating submersibles during the period prior to your arrival at the wreckage.”
“To speed this along, you might focus on activity on the surface from the last few hours. Cam and Bear chased off another submersible. They had to surface and get pulled out of the water just like we did an hour ago.”
“I’m on it,” confirmed Jackal.
“Gunner,” began Ghost, “what’s your gut telling you?”
“To be honest, sir, somebody either knew or presumed those canisters were held within that wreckage. I don’t know how they could possibly know what to go after unless there is a leak within the Sea Searcher or their bosses at Woods Hole. Either way, I’m not comfortable disclosing any information to them.”
“Why should you?” asked Ghost.
Gunner sighed. “They’re naturally curious because they wanna know what happened to their colleagues on the other ship. It was all we could do to evade their questions when we exited the submersible. The doctors stepped in and demanded to clear us physically and mentally before we engaged in any debriefing. The three of us agreed to sneak out of the infirmary without getting pinned down.”
Ghost stepped away from his desk and shouted outside his office for his assistant. He instructed her to get his liaison at the Department of Defense into his office. Because of the fast-moving nature of the operations undertaken by all the subparts of the Activity, the DOD maintained an office in the same complex as the operations centers like the Den.
“I’ll have the calls made through the proper channels. I don’t want to formally declare this a national security matter, at least not in public. The DOD can hint around the edges of such a declaration while insisting the researchers leave you guys alone.”
“Good, thanks.”
“A science team is en route to retrieve the canister for study in a secure environment,” added Ghost.
There was a gentle tap at the door. Gunner didn’t respond.
Cam whispered, “Hey, it’s us.”
Gunner rushed over to the door and waved them in. He immediately closed and locked it, checking the handle to make sure. He pointed to the phone and mouthed the word Ghost to his partners, who took up seats on Gunner’s bunk.
“Sir, there’s one another thing you might pass along to Jackal or the other analysts. The technology used by the other dive team was far superior to ours. Their submersible was larger and faster. Also, the diver’s exosuit was nimbler than mine, and it seemed like his thrusters were at least twice as fast. I’d understood that this Woods Hole group had the next-gen technology on all this stuff. Apparently, there’s somebody else out there who’s a step ahead of them.”
“Okay,” said Ghost. “Do you see any reason for you to go back down to the wreckage?”
“No.”
“All right then, I’m gonna make arrangements to pull you out of there after I get the ship’s personnel to stand down. In the meantime, before I have you ferried back to the Den, tell Cam we’ll be uploading satellite imagery and research results on everything we’ve discussed to her laptop. I’m going to make arrangements with the ship’s captain to give you access to a photo printer as well as his nautical charts. I’d like you three to put your heads together on where this mystery submersible might have come from.”
“Roger that, sir. Out.”
Gunner disconnected the phone and turned to his fellow operatives. “Ghost is gonna shield us from questioning. He’s also gonna send us data, images, etcetera. Cam, can you get into the ship’s computer system to
