Juan climbed down into the sub and made his way to the cockpit, a claustrophobic pair of reclined seats surrounded by dozens of computer screens, control panels, and a trio of small portholes. Though she was bigger than the Discovery, the interior of the Nomad was actually smaller because of her hull thickness, the massive batteries she carried to give her a sixty-hour range, and the fact she was outfitted with a saturation dive chamber. Juan’s crew had stripped out enough gear to increase her passenger load from six to eight, the same number as the Disco could carry. It would be a small force to attack the rigs and only the cream of Ndebele’s fighters would accompany the two subs.

Linda crawled in after him, but didn’t take her seat. She showed the men how to strap themselves in while Juan went through the pre-dive checklist.

Cabrillo jacked a pair of lightweight headphones into the communications panel. “Nomad to Oregon. This is a comm test. How do you read?”

“Five by five, Nomad,” Hali answered immediately. “We’re nearly finished decelerating, Juan. Moon pool doors can be opened in about a minute.”

“Roger.”

He looked over his shoulder as Linda crawled into her seat, setting her silenced machine pistol next to Juan’s. “Everybody set back there?” A couple of the men didn’t look too keen on being confined, especially when the hatch was dogged tight, but they all managed to mirror his thumbs-up. “Mafana? You okay?”

Though injured slightly during Moses’ rescue, the former sergeant had insisted on accompanying Cabrillo. “I now have a better understanding of the Bible.” Juan’s face showed his confusion so Mafana added, “Jonah and the whale.”

“It’ll be a short ride and we won’t be more than fifty or so feet underwater.”

A series of strobe lights mounted throughout the three-deck-high room began to flash and a horn would be sounding, although Juan couldn’t hear it from inside the minisub. He looked down through the porthole as the large doors at the very keel of the ship began to open. Water sluiced across the metal as the sea was carefully allowed to enter the ship, quickly filling the moon pool to the Oregon’s waterline.

With a mechanical clank, the cradle supporting the submarine began to lower it into the sea. The water climbed over the portholes and the Nomad’s interior grew noticeably darker, lit now only by the computer screens and a low-voltage system in the crew’s area. Once the sub was floating free the cradle decoupled.

“You’re free,” a crewman called over Juan’s headset.

“Affirmative.” Juan hit the ballast controls to flood the tanks and in seconds the minisub submerged down through the moon pool and out into open ocean. “Nomad’s away. You can launch the Disco.”