Edwards nodded and held up a hand, signaling his skipper that he heard the request but would have to answer in a second. He held one earpiece of the phone to his ear so he could better hear a report that was coming in from somewhere. He spoke into the mouthpiece. “Sonar, fire control, aye.”

He turned to Glass. “Skipper, we have two contacts. Couple of Foal Tail dipping sonars. They’re well down the channel and no threat to us.” He sketched a crude drawing of the fjord and drew two bearing lines from Toledo. “From the bearing lines and signal strength, the best bet is one on either side of the channel. Looks like they are leapfrogging up the channel. One is moving while the other is dipping, so…”

Edwards stopped talking and held the earpiece to his ear again. After a few seconds, he again spoke into the mouthpiece. “Sonar, fire control, aye.” He looked back to Glass and went on. “Sonar reports they are getting a faint screw beat from the same bearings as the dippers. It looks like we have a pair of Grishas down there.”

“Okay, XO. Keep an eye on them, but they aren’t much threat yet.”

“Yes, sir. I wish I knew what they were up to. You think they have our friends?”

“Not likely. Gonzales will have that thing way down in the mud. Those dippers won’t have a chance of finding them there.”

Glass hoped his voice sounded more sure than he was. He prayed the ASDV was still down there, and that it was coming his way by now.

He looked up at the active sonar intercept receiver. The Foal Tails were just starting to show up there now. Zillich was right. The signal strength was so low, there was no chance the Grishas were looking for Toledo. Besides, Glass and his crew had more immediate things to be concerned about.

Toledo was moving smoothly through the narrow slot. The granite wall was a scant few feet to port, its mass protecting them from detection. It also threatened them with destruction. Nobody breathed easily for the entire thirty-two minutes it took to run this leg of the entry.

“Mark the turn,” Perez called out. “Recommend we come right to course zero-nine-four.”

Glass exhaled and gave a sideways glance over to where the navigator sat hunched over his chart. “You mean come left, don’t you, Nav?”

“Huh? Oh yeah. Sorry, Skipper. I screwed up. Nervous. Recommend come left to zero-nine-four.”

Glass ordered the course change and watched the compass rose as the submarine swung onto the new course, parallel to the spit of land and inside the fjord. Once he was satisfied that they were on the new course, Glass stepped back and stood beside Perez. He placed a hand on the young navigator’s shoulder.