The captain shook his head in resignation. He squatted down and put an arm around Pishkovski.

“My friend, let us not share this news with the rest of the crew just yet,” he said in a raspy whisper. They crouched there for another moment, the sweat soaking through their garments. It was so deathly quiet. There was no sound but their own breathing and the distant, ghostly chink of dripping water somewhere. Andropoyov stood and took a deep breath of the sultry air. “Come, Dimitriy, there is nothing more to do here. We will go see what we can do for the injured.”

Joe Glass stood on the brow of his submarine and watched as the Mystic DSRV settled down onto the seating ring around Toledo’s after escape trunk. The workers rushed to check the latch mechanism and to hook up the power umbilicals.

Up forward, a strange-looking device slid down the torpedo-loading skid on its way to the torpedo room deep in the submarine. Glass still didn’t quite know what to make of it. The bright yellow box had arms, propellers, and other spiky protrusions poking out at odd angles.

So that’s what one of those robot subs looks like, he thought. Wonder why we’re loading on one of those things.

There were four green-painted war-shot torpedoes resting on dollies, waiting their turn to be loaded. Why would he need war-shot torpedoes for a submarine rescue?

Crewmen brushed by him as box after box disappeared down Toledo’s forward escape trunk. The DSRV crew came with quite a load of extra stuff. Add to that the groceries they would need for wherever they were going and the result was a full-fledged stores load.

A couple of patrol boats cruised out on the loch, discouraging anyone foolish enough to be out on the water this late at night from coming any closer. Occasional headlights were visible up on the hill as cars drove by on the A-814 on their way to Dumbarton.

Glass was so intent on watching the flurry of activity around him that the voice of the topside watch startled him when he hollered for him.

“Skipper, XO on the phone for you!”

Glass grabbed the phone. “Captain.”

“Skipper, you’ve got a phone call down here.”

“Damn, XO! I’m busy up here. You handle it.”

With all the activity on his boat, it would be a major chore for Glass just to get down to some place where he could answer the call.

Edwards hesitated for a polite second and then replied, “You’d better take this one, Skipper. It’s Commodore Ward and he wants to talk to you on the secure line.”

“Okay, XO. I’ll fight my way down.”