"He can't be far behind." Kirov was beside her by the time they reached the blue iron gate that now cordoned off the submarine exhibit's loading ramp.

A ruddy-faced guard held up his hands. "Whoa there. Let's stop and-"

"I'm Hannah Bryson." She shoved her ID badge toward him. "Has anyone else been here yet today?"

"Uh, no." He frowned. "Ms. Bryson, I didn't know you were scheduled to-"

"Change of plans. Are you the only guard on duty?"

"No. James is taking a walk-around in the museum."

"Give me the key to the gate leading to the gangplank." Kirov took two walkie-talkies from the security station next to him and tossed one to Hannah. "Hurry."

The guard handed the key to him. "I could unlock it for-"

"No, I'm keeping the key." Kirov unlocked the gate, pushed Hannah through, and locked it behind them. "Get that other guard over here. The two of you take cover and radio us if anyone else comes and tries to board the sub."

"Take cover? Sir, we're armed. No one is getting on the sub who we don't want to get on."

"There may be a lot of firepower coming this way," Hannah said. "Get help and take cover, dammit. Don't make yourself an easy target."

The guard spoke into his walkie-talkie. "James, I need you at the Silent Thunder loading ramp ASAP."

"Copy that. I'm on my way."

"The aft hatch, Hannah," Kirov said curtly as he ran toward the sub. A moment later they were moving through the narrow C-Deck corridor, past the galley, and finally to the control room.

Kirov stared at the dark instrument plates. "There's no power." He glanced around. "But the lights are on."

Hannah nodded. "We tapped an AC landline to power the illumination and ventilation systems, and we dropped a few outlets so we could use our tools." She switched on a small color monitor that relayed a security-camera image from the conning tower. "I was hoping that they'd managed to power the other systems by now."

"Well, they haven't. We're literally dead in the water."

"Not for long." Hannah moved quickly toward the corridor. "I'll start the diesel engine. That will generate the power we need."

"Is there fuel?"

"The tanks were almost full when it arrived."

"Hurry." His gaze lifted to the video monitor focusing on the pier. "I'll keep an eye on things here."

Hannah ran the length of the sub until she reached an iron ladder that took her two floors below to the engineering room. She passed the empty compartments that once housed the twin nuclear reactors, then finally stepped in front of the auxiliary power panel.

She flipped the conductor and ignition switches. A low rumbling shook the sub. After another moment, sharp diesel fumes wafted up to her.

She grabbed the red boot handle and pushed it upward, activating the main power generator.

The engineering plates lit up!

"All systems go, Hannah," Kirov called. "The navigational computer is booting up."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I'm on my way back."

Hannah ran into the control room. "Is the navigational computer online yet?"

"It's still booting up. Remember, this system probably has only a tenth of the power as a child's modern PlayStation console." Kirov stiffened as he glanced at the security monitor. "He's here."

"What?"

"Pavski."

Hannah looked up to see a van roaring through the museum parking lot. The guard stood at his post, but his gun was drawn and at his side.

"That fool," Kirov muttered. "I told him-" He spoke into the walkie-talkie. "Take cover, dammit."

No answer from the guard.

The van bore down on the guard, showing no sign of slowing down.

"It's too late," Kirov said.

They watched, speechless, as the guard raised his gun. Before he could fire a single shot, the van struck him. His lifeless body crumpled against the fence.

Hannah looked away. Christ almighty.

"Are all hatches secured?" Kirov asked.

"My God…"

"I need you here, Hannah. Are the hatches secured?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Kirov turned back to the monitor. Four men jumped from the van and rushed toward the iron gate that led to the sub's gangplank. "Pavski and three others." He asked curtly, "Do you really think you can trick this computer into believing the Silent Thunder has traveled to the coordinates on those plates?"

Hannah turned to the navigation panel. "Yes, but it's going to take time."

"We don't have time."

Hannah glanced at the monitor. One of Pavski's men had fired up a blowtorch and was using it on the gate.

Kirov pulled out his automatic and checked the magazine. "He'll be through that gate in two minutes and through the hatch five minutes after that."

"There's got to be a way that-" Hannah glanced desperately around the control panel. "Maybe we can-" Her mind was racing. She stiffened as a thought came to her. Crazy.

Not so crazy. But, Jesus, could it work?

Kirov's gaze was narrowed on her face. "What?"

"Let's take her out."

Kirov went still. "By out, you mean…"

"Out. Out to sea. It'll buy me the time I need with the computer."

"This is a fifteen-thousand-ton attack submarine. You think that just the two of us can-"

"Yes!" She punched the security-camera switch, which offered a view of the bow, the exterior fence, at the harbor beyond. "You take the conn, and I'll man the engine room. We'll head straight out with as much power as we can. No turns, no dives, nothing fancy. Then we'll work on the navigational computer."

"You know Pavski will come after us."

"I'm counting on it." She smiled into his eyes. "Aren't you?"

He nodded slowly. "One last mission…"

"We can do it."

"Once more into the breach, old girl?" Kirov said softly as he glanced around the command room.

The commander was back, Hannah thought. She could almost feel the authority, the dynamic force, the love for the sub that had driven him all those years ago. She cleared her throat. "When you say 'old girl,' you'd better be talking to the sub."

He didn't answer.

"She deserves one last voyage. Doesn't she, Captain?"

Kirov nodded. "Aye. She deserves it."

Watch out!"

Pavski pulled Koppel down as the second guard's bullets pinged against the iron gate. Pavski whirled around with his AK-47, but one of his other men blew the guard away before he could even line up his shot.

Koppel shrugged off Pavski's hands and swung the blowtorch away from his midsection. "Be careful, dammit. You almost roasted my nuts off." He adjusted his goggles and continued cutting through the gate.

The Silent Thunder's diesel engines rumbled louder. The water off its stern churned and foamed.

Koppel froze and looked up. "What the hell's happening?"

Pavski began to curse in disbelief.

The steel cables snapped, whipping ferociously around Pavski and the men on the pier.

The iron mooring posts exploded from the concrete.

Then, as if awakening from a long slumber, the Silent Thunder groaned and slowly moved toward the fence separating it from the harbor.