The Dragon in the Sea Read Online Free PDF Page A

are no enemy signal devices aboard your boat.”
    â€œThen why this gadget in my neck?”
    â€œThat’s just an added precaution.”
    â€œWhat about this new man? What’s his E-rating?”
    â€œHe’s one of the best in the service. Here, look at his record.”
    â€œLimited combat experience in gulf patrol! He’s practically a dryback!”
    â€œBut look at his E-rating.”
    â€œLimited combat!”
    A jitney driver shouted at Sparrow, bringing him out of his reverie. He glanced at his wrist watch: 0738—twentytwo minutes until castoff. His stomach tightened. He quickened his steps.

    Damn Security’s last minute details!
    Across the ebony velvet of the mooring pool he could see the glow tubes outlining the marine tunnel. Down the 160-mile slant of that tunnel, out into the underwater deeps of De Soto Canyon and the Gulf of Mexico—and beyond—ranged the enemy. An enemy grown suddenly, terrifyingly, one hundred percent effective against vessels such as his.
    It came to Sparrow that the marine tunnel formed a grotesque birth canal. This cavern carved under a Georgia mountain was nestled in the earth like a fantastic womb. When they took their vessel out to do battle they were born into a terrible world that they did not want.
    He wondered what BuPsych would think of an idea like that. They’d probably rate it as an indication of weakness, he thought. But why shouldn’t I have a weakness? Something about fighting a war a mile and a half under the ocean—the unrelenting pressure of water all around—exposes every weakness in a man. It’s the pressures. Constant pressures. Four men isolated in pressure, held in a plasteel prison as they are held in the prisons of their souls .
    Another jitney scurried across Sparrow’s path. He dodged, looked up at his boat. He was close enough now to make out the name plate on the retractable conning tower high above him: Fenian Ram S1881 . The boarding ramp swooped down from the tower in a long, graceful curve.
    The dock captain, a moonfaced lieutenant commander in fatigues, hurried up to Sparrow, a check list in his hands.
    â€œCaptain Sparrow.”
    Sparrow turned without stopping. “Yes? Oh, hullo, Myers. Are all the ready crews off?”

    Myers fell into step beside him. “Most of them. You’ve lost weight, Sparrow.”
    â€œTouch of dysentery,” said Sparrow. “Got some bad fruit up at Garden Glenn. Has my new electronics officer showed up?”
    â€œHaven’t seen him. His gear came along earlier. Funny thing. There was a sealed box with his stuff. About so by so.” He gestured with his hands. “Cleared by Admiral Belland.”
    â€œComSec?”
    â€œNone other.”
    â€œWhy was it sealed?”
    â€œIt’s supposed to contain some highly delicate instruments to monitor your new long-range search equipment. It was sealed so no zealous searcher could foul the works.”
    â€œOh. I take it the new long-range gear is installed?”
    â€œYes. You’re battle-checking it.”
    Sparrow nodded.
    A cluster of men at the foot of the boarding ramp snapped to attention as the two officers approached. Sparrow and Myers stopped. Sparrow said, “At ease.”
    Myers said, “Sixteen minutes, Captain.” He held out his hand, shook with Sparrow. “Good luck. Give’em hell.”
    â€œRight,” said Sparrow.
    Myers headed for the foot of the dock.
    Sparrow turned toward a heavy-bodied, hawk-faced man beside the ramp, First Officer Bonnett. “Hi, Les.”
    â€œGood to see you, Skipper,” said Bonnett. He tucked a clip board under his left arm, dismissed three ratings who were with him, turned back to Sparrow. “Where’d you and Rita go after the party?”
    â€œHome,” said Sparrow.

    â€œSo’d we,” said Bonnett. He hooked a thumb toward the submarine behind him. “Final safety