CHAPTER XIX
FLASH FROM THE DEPTHS
Tom was stunned by the news. "There's no chance of a mistake?"
"Judge for yourself," Admiral Walter replied. He read the message:
HAVE JUST SIGHTED ENEMY CRAFT DREDGING OUT METAL OBJECT
Tom repeated the information to his father. Both Swifts were silent fora moment, exchanging dejected looks. Then Mr. Swift remarked evenly:
"The game's never lost till it's over, son."
"You're right, Dad!" Tom exclaimed. Turning back to the telephone, hesaid, "Admiral, I'm not quitting. We'll take off as soon as I can getback to the base!"
With a hasty good-by to his father, and farewells to his mother, Sandy,and Phyl by phone, Tom dashed out of the building. He sped to ArvHanson's workshop, and the new hydrolung suits were loaded onto a smallpickup truck and taken to the airfield. While flying back to FearingIsland in a helijet, Tom received a radio flash from his father.
"Another message from Bud. He says the object dug up by the Brungarianswas _not_ the missile. It appeared to be the metal section of a ship'sprow, from some hulk buried in the silt!"
Tom was jubilant. "Terrific news, Dad! Our luck may be turning!"
At the rocket base Tom detailed crews for the three undersea craft whichwere to take off on the expedition. Arv Hanson would captain oneseacopter, Mel Flagler the jetmarine, while Zimby Cox, Chow, and fourcrewmen would accompany Tom in the _Sea Hound_.
Because of their sonar-blinding systems, Tom realized there was a chanceof the ships losing contact with one another--especially if theiranalyzer sonars developed trouble. He therefore plotted their course tothe South Atlantic carefully, and issued orders for the antidetectioncircuits to be switched off every half-hour for a position check.
"Report to your ships," he now ordered.
As Tom was about to leave base headquarters, Harlan Ames telephoned fromShopton. "Bad news, Tom. Dimitri Mirov has broken jail!"
"Good night!" Tom stifled a groan of dismay. "How did it happen?"
Ames said the Brungarian had somehow fashioned a crude weapon andoverpowered the turnkey. Disguising himself in the guard's uniform, hehad slipped out before his victim was discovered.
"He must have had outside help within close call," Ames ended, "becausehe seems to have made a clean getaway. The State Police have spread adragnet, but it doesn't look hopeful."
"He'll probably duck out of the country pronto," Tom surmised. "Anyhow,this won't stop us, Harlan."
By nightfall the little fleet of three undersea craft was speedingsouthward at periscope depth. Tom alternated at the controls with Zimby,two hours on and two hours off. Sleep came in snatches, the crewmenflopping on their bunks as the chance offered. Chow's tasty meals helpedbreak the monotony.
It was the following day when they reached the missile search area. Tomsurfaced the _Sea Hound_ and reversed blade pitch, then gunned the rotorturbines for an aerial reconnaissance flight, while the jetmarine and theother seacopter stood by in the water.
"Brand my guppies, it's some ocean, eh, boss?" Chow remarked in an awedvoice.
"Big enough, all right," Tom agreed with a grin. "And plenty of water tosearch in."
"No sign of the Navy," Zimby said.
Tom nodded. "They pulled out on schedule."
"What about them Brungarian sidewinders?" put in Chow.
"That's the question!" Tom swooped down to rejoin the other two craft."We'll keep an eye out for enemy blips while we do our prospecting."
Rather than lose time trying to contact Bud, Tom decided to let him findthe _Sea Hound_. Accordingly, he switched off the antidetection systemand ordered all ships to submerge. Arv's seacopter and Mel's jetmarinewere to maintain close formation and stand guard while Tom's craft didthe actual searching.
Now the missile hunt began. Tom had plotted a concentric search pattern,focused on the probable position worked out by the task-force computers.After checking his fix on the automatic navigator, Tom switched on theDamonscope and steered the _Sea Hound_ on a gradually circling course.
The Damonscope was mounted in a blister on the hull, its camera lenspointing toward the ocean floor. The automatic developing film wouldrecord any trace of fluorescence, and a red light would signal thisresult to the pilot's cabin.
Minutes went by as the _Sea Hound_ nosed slowly along through thegray-green gloom, its sister craft flanking it a hundred yards on eitherside. They were moving only a fathom or so above the bottom.
"A blip at eleven o'clock!" the sonarman called out suddenly. Tom'spulse quickened. "Moving straight toward us," the sonarman added.
Tom surrendered the controls to Zimby long enough to dart over and studythe sonarscope. "I've a hunch it's Bud," he told the others.
His guess proved correct when the unmistakable outline of a jetmarineloomed into view. Tom flicked on the search beam for a moment, and Budcould be seen waving through the cabin window. Then the yellow glarewent off, and Bud's jetmarine glided away to take up a scouting positionahead of the _Sea Hound_.
An hour went by, then another. Suddenly a flash of light stabbed throughthe murk from dead ahead.
"It's a signal from Bud!" Zimby exclaimed.
Tom nodded grimly. "He's spotted trouble--probably an enemy sub."Silence settled over the cabin as Tom reached out to switch on theantisonar circuits.
At that same instant a red light flashed on the control panel. "TheDamonscope!" Tom cried out. "We may be over the Jupiter prober!"
Cutting off the steering jets, Tom gave a brief flick on the reversejets to halt the craft. Then he turned over the controls to Zimby andbegan stripping down to don a hydrolung suit.
"Gallopin' guppies! What're you aimin' to do?" Chow exploded.
"Go out and look for that missile," Tom said calmly. "It's what we camefor."
"Are you loco, boss? What about that sub Bud just spotted? Mebbe it'sMirov's bunch!"
Tom refused to be dissuaded. After swallowing a space-plant pill, hearmed himself with an underwater flashlight.
"Think it's safe to show that light, skipper?" a crewman asked uneasily.
"If the enemy spots it, I'm hoping they'll think it's coming from aschool of lantern fish or sea anglers," Tom explained. He picked up athree-pronged digging fork with his other hand and went out through theair lock.
Tom glided back to the spot which the _Sea Hound_ had just passed overand began digging into the silt. Presently he felt the fork strikesomething hard.
"An obstruction!" Tom thought excitedly.
He probed deeper. Bit by bit, a smoothly contoured and still-shiny metalsurface became visible. "I've found it!" Tom's eyes flashed in triumph,his heart pounding.
There was no doubt he had uncovered the nose cone of the missile whichhad re-entered the earth's atmosphere tailfirst!
Meanwhile, Bud, keeping watch on the enemy submarine, had seen a shadowyfigure glide from its air lock and head in Tom's direction. Bud donned ahydrolung and followed.
"What's that he's carrying?" Bud wondered.
Suddenly the answer came to him--a self-propelled underwater grenade!Horrified, Bud jetted forward, tackling the diver at full speed.
A split second too late! The grenade went streaking straight toward TomSwift!
CHAPTER XX
A LUCKY BLAST
Tom's earphones caught the hiss of the approaching grenade. Instantlyhis eyes darted to the sonarscope on his wrist.
A tiny blip of light was moving on the screen!
Tom whirled about, then gunned his ion drive. He pushed out of the pathof the grenade, which nevertheless grazed him as it streaked past.
Seconds later, the grenade struck bottom. A shattering _bo-o-oom_reverberated through the depths, and clouds of silt darkened the waterinto Stygian gloom.
Tom, knocked off balance, was tumbled about helplessly by the train ofshock waves. As they died away, he gradually recovered his bearings andpressed the throttle control of his ion drive. It coughed and stuttered!For a
moment Tom felt a surge of panic, but the jet motor smoothed intoa steady purr of power.
"Whew!" he thought in relief. "At least I can still get around at fullspeed if anything else comes at me!"
He had clung to the flashlight and fork despite the explosion. The blasthad hurled him away from the spot where the missile was buried, so Tombegan trying to locate it again.
But he soon realized that his efforts were hopeless. He must wait untilthe silt which clouded the water cleared. Now Tom feared that theexplosion might have reburied the nose cone.
Suddenly a new worry gripped him. _Had the missile's precious contentsbeen destroyed by the blast?!_ Slowly he began making his way back tothe _Sea Hound_.
Unknown to Tom, Bud was fighting a desperate battle with his adversarybarely fifty yards away. The divers grappled each other in anoctopuslike duel. At such depths, their movements were impeded, as if byoil.
The Brungarian pulled out the knife at his belt. Bud, a skilled wrestlerfrom high-school days, managed to twist his foe's knife arm behind hisback--then applied a punishing judo hold! The Brungarian gave an audiblescreech of pain and dropped the knife.
"Now you're coming along with me!" Bud muttered. He gunned his jet,forcing himself and his adversary toward the _Sea Hound_.
Moments later, they passed the seacopter's cabin window. Reaching theair lock, Bud hammered for admission. The hatch opened quickly and hisprisoner was hauled inside. Bud followed.
Tom greeted him with a bear hug. "Hi, Bud, you old devilfish!" Turningto the prisoner, Tom added "Who's this?"
"The rat who fired that grenade at you!"
The prisoner was wearing a frogman costume and a mask which hid thelower part of his face. The man's dark eyes glittered in hate, as Tomordered him to remove his mask. Sullenly the prisoner obeyed.
Tom gasped. "_Dimitri Mirov!_" The name sent a shock through theAmericans aboard.
"Wal, I'll be jing-whistled!" Chow declared, then broke into a gleefulcackle.
Under their scornful gaze, the Brungarian's own eyes wavered and hisshoulders slumped in an attitude of defeat. "What is the use?" hemuttered. "Again I have failed. My career is over now, just like mybrother's."
Tom seized the opening. "In that case, maybe you're ready to do sometalking now."
Mirov shrugged. "What do you wish to know?"
In answer to Tom's questions, Mirov admitted that his group, composed ofBrungarian rebel Navy men and rocket engineers, had sabotaged thereturning Jupiter probe missile, hoping to obtain its data for their ownuse.
Their key agent in America was the man who had posed over the phone asLester Morris and masterminded the other attempts to kidnap Tom. He hadalso taken the amulet bracelet from Ames's jacket in a restaurant.
Mirov himself had been given the bracelet after his jail break. Pullingback the sleeve of his frogman suit, he displayed it with a momentarysmirk of pride.
"I even got inside the grounds of Swift Enterprises and stole a planethat same night," Mirov boasted.
Tom was startled. "How did you manage that?"
"Very simple. I thumbed a ride with one of your trusted workers on thelate shift and showed him the amulet to identify myself as a Swiftemployee. The guard at the gate was fooled the same way."
Tom nodded thoughtfully. "They were instructed to look for a man tryingto sneak past alone. Seeing you in the same car with a known employee,he probably assumed you were all right."
Mirov was allowed to change into dry clothes, then his hands were boundbehind his back. When the water cleared, Tom and Bud ventured outsideagain. First they headed for Bud's jetmarine to reassure his crew. Herethey learned that the mystery submarine had vanished.
"Good riddance!" Bud exclaimed jubilantly. "They probably didn't evenrealize you had found the missile!"
"_Had found_ is right--past tense," Tom said wryly. "It's no doubtburied again. But at least we have the right spot."
They emerged from the jetmarine and headed back toward the site. As theyglided astern of the _Sea Hound_, Tom uttered a cry over his suit mike.
"_Bud! There it is!_"
Both boys darted ahead at increased speed, and Tom played his flashlightbeam over the precious treasure. Instead of burying the missile deeper,the grenade explosion had uncovered the entire nose cone and part of thesection behind it!
"Sizzlin' squids! What a break!" Bud whooped.
The boys jetted back to the _Sea Hound_ to announce the good news. Zimbyand two other crewmen were dispatched in hydrolungs to inform the otherships. Tom requested them to remain submerged and guard the site.
Twenty minutes later the _Sea Hound_ was zooming up to the surface. Tomhoisted the craft's aerial and radioed word to his father, who wasoverjoyed. Mr. Swift, in turn, had news--that the rebels' key man andLen Unger had been seized by the FBI. Tom's next call was to AdmiralWalter.
"Tom, this is wonderful news!" the admiral exclaimed. "I'll have ourNavy ships routed back there immediately--and I intend to fly outmyself as soon as I can board a plane!"
As Tom waited for the task force to arrive, his thoughts turned to newinventions to tackle. But he could not anticipate what would happen tohim in his _Triphibian Atomicar_.
Within hours, the task force arrived at the site and recovery operationsgot under way. The missile was hoisted to the surface by cables attachedto submarines, then hauled aboard the tender. Tom himself supervised thejob of extracting the sealed data section.
"You've done a tremendous job, Tom Swift, and our whole country will beproud of you!" Admiral Walter declared before sailing home.
Tom grinned as he prepared to descend the ladder over the side. "Let meknow about life on Jupiter, sir. I may go there myself one of thesedays!"
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