Black wind

his head.
    “Our intelligence heads apparently underestimated this Japanese Red Army,” Summer said. “Those guys didn’t look like a rogue band of ideological extremists with dynamite strapped to their backs.”
    “No, it’s apparent they are well-trained military professionals. Whoever’s running their operation is obviously skilled and well funded.” “I wonder what they intend to do with the bombs?” “An attack in Japan would figure. But there’s obviously more to this Japanese Red Army than meets the eye, so I wouldn’t want to wager on what their intent is.”
    ““I guess we can’t worry about that for now. We’ve got to figure out a way to save the crew.”
    “I counted eight commandos, and there was no doubt a few more on the bridge and elsewhere on the ship. Too many to overpower with a couple of screwdrivers,” Dirk said, examining the contents of a small toolbox mounted behind his seat.
    “We’ll need to quietly get some of the crewmen out of the hold to help us. If we had enough people, maybe we could overpower them.” “I don’t relish the thought of going unarmed against an AK-74, but there might be a chance in numbers. Getting the lid off that storage hold is the problem. I’d need a couple of uninterrupted minutes on the stern crane, but I don’t think our friends in black would be too obliging.”
    “There must be another way out of that hold,” Summer wondered.
    “No, unfortunately, there isn’t. I’m sure it matches the Deep Endeavor, where it was designed strictly as a storage hold and is blocked off from any entry amidships by the moon pool.”
    “I thought Ryan had run a power cable down there once from someplace other than the open hatch cover.”
    Dirk thought hard for a moment, trying to jog his memory. After a long minute, a light finally clicked on.
    “You’re right. There’s a small venting hatch that opens on the bulkhead just aft of the moon pool. It’s really more of an air vent, designed to release the buildup of noxious gases if chemicals are stored in the hold. I’m pretty sure a man could squeeze through it. The problem for Morgan and the crew is that it’s sealed and locked from the outside.”
    “We’ve got to figure out a way to unlock it,” Summer willed.
    Together, they worked through several contingency plans, finally settling on an order of attack based on their opportunities once aboard the Sea Rover. It would take timing, skill, and a dose of daring to pull off. But mostly it would take luck.
    Dirk and Summer fell silent as their minds conjured up gruesome images of the Sea Rover sinking with all hands, their friends, and coworkers trapped in the airtight hold. Then the specter of the I-411 suddenly rose up in the blackness before them and they washed the images from their minds. With the clock ticking, they went about their business of retrieving the final two canisters of death. Dirk maneuvered the submersible into the hangar as before, setting the Starfish down within easy reach of the remaining ordnance. As Summer began manipulating the mechanical arms by sight through the acrylic bubble, Dirk observed the video camera feed on the monitor, which recorded every moment of the recovery. He watched while Summer gently lifted the first canister and was placing it in the recovery basket when he suddenly powered up Snoopy and grabbed the remote vehicle’s controls. In an instant, he nudged the ROV out of its cradle just a few inches, then spun the tiny machine around until its nose was pressed against the submersible’s skid plates and applied full
    thrusting power. The tiny ROV went nowhere, but its water jets stirred up a thick cloud of muck and sediment in front of the Starfish. In a flash, the water visibility went to zero amid a cloud of brown.
    “What are you doing?” Summer demanded, freezing the mechanical arm controls.
    “You’ll see,” he said, although there was nothing to see at all. After reaching over and fidgeting with Summer’s controls for a moment, he then powered down the ROV’s thruster. It took two minutes for the seawater to clear enough that Summer could proceed with seizing the final canister.
    “You want to try that trick again?” she asked after depositing the bomb into the basket.
    “Why not?” he replied, hitting the ROV thruster again and stirring up another muddy cloud for the camera.
    Once the water cleared and both canisters were pinned into the basket, Dirk edged the submersible away from