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 the submarine and they began their slow ascent. Halfway to the surface, they traded positions, squirming over one another so that Summer controlled the submersible movements while Dirk manned the controls of both mechanical arms.

“Okay, take us on up,” Dirk instructed. “As soon as they drop us onto the deck, I'll need you to create a diversion.” While he spoke, he worked the left mechanical arm away from its locked position on the weapons basket and flexed it straight out to its full extension so that it poked out from the Starfish like a lance.

Summer trusted her brother's instincts implicitly, and had little time to argue anyway. The ringed lights of the moon pool soon came into view. Summer steered the Starfish to the center of the opening, then they broke surface with a rush of bubbles and foaming seawater. A metallic clank was heard as the lifting hook was attached to the submersible and the diminutive vessel was yanked from the water. Summer peered out at Tongju and a half-dozen other commandos as the submersible swung through the air. Her brother, she noted, was intently watching their forward progress while gently adjusting the mechanical arm's position. When they were crudely dropped to the deck by the inexperienced crane operator, she saw Dirk jam the arm controls all the way forward. The metal claw bounced forward along the deck as they stopped, coming to a halt near the rear bulkhead. Four feet off to the side was the small, sealed venting hatch that led to the storage hold.

“Our boy on the crane came through,” Dirk muttered. “We're in the ballpark.”

“I guess it's showtime,” Summer replied with a nervous look.

Moving quickly, she stripped out of her NUMA jumpsuit, revealing a lean body that was clad in a skimpy two-piece bathing suit covered by a large T-shirt. Reaching under the shirt, she unhooked her bathing top and let it fall to the floor, then grabbed the loose base of her T-shirt and tied a knot with the material just above her navel. The ightened shirt clearly revealed the shapely contour of her full breasts and midriff. Dirk helped open the escape hatch, then quickly returned lo the manipulator arm controls as Summer burst out of the submersible.

Tongju was busy talking to the crane operator with his back toward the submersible when Summer crawled out. Seeing him turned away, she hurriedly approached the nearest commando, who stood glaring at her exposed features with a leer. His leer turned to shock as Summer shouted at the top of her lungs, “Get your hands off me, creep!”

Her words were followed by an open-hand slap to the man's face that nearly sent him sprawling. If her bikini and tight shirt hadn't already attracted everyone's attention, then her decking one of their fellow commandos suddenly brought every eye on the ship upon her.

Every eye except Dirk's. Capitalizing on the commotion, he powered the mechanical arm to its full lateral reach, just barely stretching its extended claw to the bulkhead vent hatch. Grabbing the lockdown handle with the claw, he nudged it to the unlocked position and pulled n it just a hair, to ensure the hatch would open. Quickly letting go,

he eased the arm back alongside the Starfish, then powered it down. Scampering out the submersible's entry hatch, he stood casually in^ back of the submersible as if he'd been there all along.

“What is this all about?” Tongju hissed as he approached Summer, \ his Glock pistol drawn and aimed at her midsection.

“This pervert tried to assault me,” Summer screeched, jerking a thumb toward the slack-jawed commando. Tongju let fly a stream of obscenities until the confounded gunman shrank like a wilting violet. The commando leader then turned back to Summer and Dirk, who now stood behind his sister.

“You two, back in the submersible,” he commanded in English, the muzzle of his Glock pointing the way.

“Jeez, a guy can't even stretch his legs around here,” Dirk complained as if it were his biggest concern at the moment. As they made their way back into the submersible, they noticed for the first time that the Japanese cable-laying ship was heaving to alongside the Sea Rover. Though little longer than the NUMA vessel, the Japanese ship had a much higher superstructure and seemed to tower over the Sea Rover. The Baekje was hardly alongside a minute before a huge crane on her stern deck swung over the Sea Rover's side rail trailing a cable with an empty pallet that spun lazily in the breeze. From inside the submersible, they watched as the pallet was dropped to the deck beside them. A trio of black-clad commandos then rolled several storage containers out of the Sea Rover's auxiliary laboratory and secured them to the pallet. Each container, they knew, held one of the biological bombs encased in a cushioned sheath.

The Baekje's crane operator quickly transferred the pallet back and forth several times in the predawn darkness until all of the bomb containers were aboard the Japanese ship. The empty pallet then became a bus, ferrying the commandos to the ship a handful at a time. From belowdecks, a black-clad gunman appeared and conversed briefly with Tongju. Dirk noticed Tongju break into a thin smile, then pointed to the submersible and barked out an order. The cable hook was released from the pallet and attached to the Starfish.

“Guess we're changing rides,” Dirk commented when the cable was pulled taut.

This time the submersible was hoisted smoothly into the air. Dirk rapidly jabbed the mechanical arm out and rapped three times on the rear bulkhead with the claw before being pulled up and off the deck. He and Summer watched the Sea Rover fall away beneath them as they were carried over the water and deposited on a high stern deck of the Baekje. Climbing out of the submersible, they were welcomed by a pair of armed thugs, who prodded them toward the ship's railing with their guns.

“I've had about enough of the assault rifle hospitality,” Dirk muttered.