“Anything else?” Cate tilted her head back slightly. There was silence, and she looked to Mironov, who nodded.

“Okay, people, then we’re good to go.” She led them out.

*   *   *

Cate hugged her arms tight to her body, trying to squeeze out the cold attempting to needle its way in through the fabric of her clothing. They stood staring up at the vessel sitting in a cradle awaiting lift off. They would need to enter it before it was lowered into the cavern and then on into the water – there would be no intermediate platform or pontoon waiting for them below.

Once they arrived down on the water, the two Russian crewmembers would then decouple them. The cables would be left dangling, and awaiting their return, hopefully within twenty-four hours.

“Where’s Yegor?” Cate asked, turning.

Greg shrugged. “He said he had to use the bathroom, but…” he checked his watch. “That was ten minutes ago. Maybe he’s got the runs; nerves and all.” He wrinkled his nose. “And we’re gonna be stuck with him in a small metal room – yech!”

“I think he’s gone home.” Dmitry frowned for a second or two, and then brayed with laughter, holding up a hand. “I joke; he will be back. Maybe he call his wife or something. He always do things by himself.”

“Go and find him,” Jack said, and then stared into the distance. “Forget it; here comes the big grizzly bear now.”

Yegor jogged back to the group. “I’m here, and ready.”

“Where’ve you been?” Jack’s voice was sharp.

Yegor scowled, and then waved an arm out at the cold landscape. “I never see Alaska before. I go looking around.” His gaze was unwavering. “I here and ready now.”

Jack grunted, holding his gaze. After another moment, Yegor turned to the submersible, walking to it and laying a hand on the cold steel of the hull. “And you are ready too, my Prusalka Kpacota.” He stood back looking up, admiringly.

Mironov smiled, and said something in Russian to Yegor. The big man nodded and grinned sheepishly. Mironov turned to the group. “Kpacota is an old Russian word, for beautiful woman.” He raised his brows. “Let us hope it is not one of the temperamental ones, yes?”

Cate and Abby groaned, but Greg nodded vigorously.

Cate turned to the Prusalka; it was the first time she had seen the vessel in its entirety. The craft itself was a stubby, bulbous-looking vehicle, finished off with striking orange and white bands. Along each side were three fist-sized glass panes – not portholes, but cameras, Cate knew. The rear had a powerful curved-blade propeller with three controlling struts, and there was a small conning tower on top. Underneath was a set of folded mechanical arms, making it look like some sort of praying mantis awaiting its next meal.