Brogidan Yusoff, head of the Resources and Agriculture Ministry, read the transcript from their field agent – they were in the subterranean lake and proceeding. Everything was going to plan.

He nodded, satisfied, but wished he had thought to have some sort of video link established from inside the submarine; he would pay a million dollars just to see the look on Mironov’s face when the man realized what was happening.

He rubbed stubby hands together and then opened the link given to him by his second in charge, Uli Stroyev. On the screen it now showed a satellite image of the Baranof Island landscape. A red dot was centered just on the Western coast – a bullseye, he thought. He knew that as they moved deeper he would lose the signal. It didn’t matter; Mironov was nearly in his hands, and everyone else onboard the submarine was already dead and soon to be buried, as far as he was concerned.

“A ghost ship.” Yusoff pushed the screen away and clapped his hands. “Good… a good day.”

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 9

“Rig for diving.” Jack Monroe, checked dials and flicked switches. Cate, like the rest of the crew, now wore headsets. Even though they were only a dozen feet from the pilots, it was critical that commands and instructions were heard fast and clearly – in an extreme environment like a deep-sea submersible, reacting correctly could be the difference between life and death.

“Ladies and gentlemen, everyone to their positions, please.” Jack flexed his hands and then grabbed one of the u-shaped steering wheels.

Beside Jack, Yegor Gryzlov’s hands also worked furiously. Cate could hear Dmitry working at his own console, and everywhere she looked, walls of technical equipment sprung to life.

“Bridge is clear, all crew to their positions, Captain,” Yegor responded in his Russian baritone.

“All valves, hatches, intakes to close,” Jack said mechanically.

Yegor would repeat the instruction when the order was confirmed.

Jack continued down his checklist, his voice calm and professional. For some reason, Cate felt a flush of pride, and wished it were she that had decided to bring him in.

“Pressure in the boat,” Jack intoned.

Once the submarine had been fully sealed, Yegor released air pressure into the hull, and Cate felt her ears pop. The hull-opening indicator board showed all green lights, indicating the pressure levels were steady and the craft was airtight.

“Hull is secure. Pressure maintained.” Yegor turned to Jack.

Jack nodded. “Okay then, open main vents.”

A gushing, gurgling could be heard from underneath their feet as the ballast tank vents were opened, allowing them to fill with water.

Dmitry leant back, speaking over his shoulder. “Air in the banks, shit in the tanks, ready to dive, comrades.” He giggled.

Greg laughed, Cate groaned, and Abby stuck her tongue out in distaste.

“Increase diving speed, Mr Gryzlov; take us down to forty-five feet and level off.”