Petrov read further, though his eyes barely registered the words. After studying for his master's in systems management at the University of Washington, Austin had attended a highly rated Seattle dive school and trained as a professional. He'd brought these skills to bear working on North Sea oil rigs, then returned to his father's salvage company before being lured into government service by a little known branch of the CIA that specialized in underwater intelligence-gathering. At the end of the Cold War, the CIA had closed down the branch and NUMA director Admiral James Sandecker had hired Austin to head up a special assignments team being assembled for oceanographic research.

Their backgrounds couldn't have been more different. Austin and Petrov. Like the American, Petrov had salt water in his veins, but his beginnings were more humble. He'd been born the only son of a poor fisherman. As a Young Pioneer, his intelligence and athletic ability were noticed by a visiting political commissar, and he was taken to Moscow and made a ward of the state. He never saw his parents or siblings again. Even worse, he didn't care to see them; the Soviet state had become his new family. He attended the finest Soviet schools, excelling in engineering, served a stint in the KGB as a submarine officer, and later moved to naval intelligence. Like Austin, Petrov had also served in a little-known ocean intelligence branch. Unlike Austin's group, which concentrated on oceanographic research, Petrov's people were authorized to carry out their duties by any means, including force.

Their paths had rust crossed after an Israeli submarine clandestinely sank an Iranian container ship carrying nuclear weapons. Petrov was ordered to retrieve the weapons at all costs: The container ship could be an embarrassment, because the weapons had been stolen from the Soviet arsenal. Meanwhile, the U.S. was performing a balancing act between its Arab allies and Israel, and Washington had worried that if Iran knew how the ship had been sunk, they would declare a holy war that would spread around the region. Austin had been made the director of an attempt to salvage the container ship and destroy the evidence.

Ships from the USSR and the U.S. had arrived over the sunken container ship at about the same time. Neither ship would give way to the other. The standoff dragged on for days. Warships from both countries hovered on the horizon. It was a tense time. Petrov was awaiting orders from Moscow when he was called to the bridge to hear a message from the American ship.

“This is the U.S. vessel Talon calling unknown Soviet salvage ship. Come in, please.” The caller spoke in heavily accented Russian.

“Soviet salvage ship to Talon,” Petrov replied in the American-accented English he had learned at the state schools.

“Do you mind if we speak in English?” the American said. “My Russian is a little rusty.”