Gruver took another sip of the coffee while she nervously folded her paper napkin into as tight a cube as she could manage.

“So, Catherine, your woman’s intuition tells you that the system is dirty. You know there’s an awful lot of support for it on the floor. Especially with all the shit going on with the Russians and whatever that whole thing is about. It’s putting a humongous strain on the old system. The traders are pushing for OptiMarx to go live. They’ve been waiting on this thing for a long time, you know. You throw a monkey wrench into the works right now, when we’re so close to rollout, you will not be the most popular person in this town.”

Darkness was descending outside. The glow from the streetlights softened the hard edges of the street. People hurried past, on their way home or out to the local bars for a stiff one after a hard day. Across the street, a young couple walked arm in arm into an Italian ristorante.

Goldman picked up a plastic mustard packet and seemed to be studying its label for a moment. She looked up at him again, her eyes hard and her mouth firmly set. “Charlie, I need access to the OptiMarx system so I can continue to test it. I need protected access so no one else knows I’m there except you. Not any of your IT people even. Will you help me?”

Gruver reached across the Formica table, took the mustard from her, and covered her hand with his.

“We’ve been friends for a long, long time. Of course I’ll help. You will have to be careful just the same. There’s a lot riding on this thing getting passed and online. There are some very big players wrapped up in this thing, and they play rough. Hell, you, of all people, should know that after what happened the other night.” His eyes showed sincere concern when he looked into hers. “Cath, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She lifted what was left of the sandwich and took a big bite.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said as she chewed. “I can take care of myself.”

Cold, dark waves slipped back over the periscope as the Toledo returned once again to the deep. Joe Glass slapped the handles upward and reached to roll the red operating ring to lower the scope into the well. The lights of Scotland at the mouth of the Firth of Clyde faded away behind them until they were lost in the mist. The black sub slipped through the dark depths of the Irish Sea, heading north.