“Who the hell's working the crane?” Summer cursed as they were set down harshly on the deck. “Don't they know we've got two bombs aboard?”

“It sure ain't the Welcome Wagon,” Dirk said drily as he stared out of the bubble window.

Directly in front of them, an Asian man in a black paramilitary outfit stood holding an automatic pistol to the stomach of Captain Morgan. Dirk looked beyond the man's long Fu Manchu mustache and crooked yellow teeth splayed in an evil grin and focused on the eyes. They were cold, black eyes that portrayed a menacing air of utter indifference. They were, Dirk knew, the eyes of an experienced killer.

Summer gasped at the sight of Morgan. A makeshift bandage was wrapped about his left thigh but failed to cover the rivulets of dried blood that was splattered down his leg. His cheekbone was bruised and swollen to the size of a grapefruit, and his eye had already begun to blacken. More dried blood ran from his mouth and onto his shirt. Yet the crusty captain stood unflinching, his lack of fear so prominent that Summer failed to notice he was still wearing a pair of boxer shorts.

A pair of commandos suddenly jumped in front of the Starfish's acrylic bubble, waving their AK-74s about wildly in a show for Dirk and Summer to exit the submersible. The gun muzzles were quickly poked in their faces as they climbed out of the submersible and were marched over to Morgan and Tongju.

“Mr. Pitt,” Tongju said in a low voice. "Good of you to join us.

“I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance,” Dirk replied sarcastically.

“A humble servant of the Japanese Red Army whose name is unimportant,” Tongju replied with feigned graciousness, bowing his head slightly.

“I didn't realize there were still any of you fruitcakes left outside of jail.”

Tongju just held his grin, not moving a facial muscle. “You and your sister have fifteen minutes to replenish the submersible's batteries and prepare to retrieve the final two ordnance,” he said calmly.

“They are both damaged and in pieces,” Dirk lied, his mind racing to compute a plan of action.

Tongju calmly raised the Glock pistol aimed at Morgan's side and held the muzzle to the captain's right temple. “You have fourteen minutes, at which time I shall kill your captain. Then I will kill your sister. And then I will kill you,” he said coldly, his lips parting in a self-satisfying grin.

Dirk could feel the blood racing through his veins as he glared at the madman in anger. Then the delicate touch of Summer's hand on his shoulder dispelled any thoughts of rash action.

“Come on, Dirk, we haven't much time,” she said, guiding him to a wheeled cart that had been rolled out with replacement batteries for the submersible. Morgan looked at Dirk and nodded in concurrence. Fighting the feeling of total helplessness, he reluctantly began transferring the batteries to the Starfish, all the while keeping one eye glued to the commando leader.

As they prepped the submersible for a last dive, the final remnants of the ship's crew were marched by and forced into the rear hold at gunpoint. Summer grimly noted the frightened look on two lab analysts as they were prodded roughly down the hatchway.

Working quickly, Dirk and Summer replaced the submersible's power supply in just over twelve minutes. There would be no time for the standard post operation and pre dive system checks normally per formed before the submersible was returned to the water. They would have to hope the Starfish was operational for one more dive.

Tongju walked over in a measured clip and glared up at the two Americans, who both towered over him.

“You will promptly retrieve the remaining ordnance and return to the vessel without any nonsense. You have ninety minutes to complete your dive successfully or there will be severe consequences.”

“If I were you, I think I'd be worrying about the consequences from our military forces for pirating a government ship,” Summer spat angrily.

“There will be no consequences,” Tongju replied, smiling thinly, “for a ship that no longer exists.”

Before Summer could respond, Tongju spun on his heels and walked away, replaced by two commandos who stepped forward with their assault rifles drawn and aimed.

“Come on, sister,” Dirk muttered. “There's no use arguing with a psychopath.”

Dirk and Summer threaded themselves back into the Starfish, then were roughly jostled into the air by the crane operator. As they were prepared to be let go, Dirk watched through the acrylic bubble as Morgan was roughly manhandled to the stern hold and forcefully pitched down into the container. A commando on a stern deck crane hoisted up the massive steel hatch and positioned it over the rear hold before lowering it in place. Secured over the hold, the hatch imprisoned the entire ship's crew in darkness below.

With a violent splash, the Starfish was crudely dropped into the moon pool a second later and released from the ship's cable.

“He means to sink the Sea Rover” Dirk said to Summer as they began their slow descent to the bottom.

“With the entire crew locked in the hold?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I think so,” he said somberly. “Unfortunately, there's not much we can do in the way of calling for help.”

“Our underwater communication system won't do any good, and any surface calls we might try wouldn't have the range to reach anybody in this region except a few Chinese fishermen.”

“Or the cable ship that is evidently supporting these characters,” he added, shaking 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. Who-ever'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.