Chapter 66 Chapter 65

Pete finally stood there motionless, like an indescribable monster emerging from the depths of a water prison.He was drenched from head to toe, his dark hair hung loose on his bloodstained forehead, and his lips curled up in a grin.In the light, glistening drops of water trickled down from the wet clothes and onto the deck. Prevlov's face was like a wax mask.He calmly took out a cigarette from the golden cigarette case and lit it, and exhaled the smoke with a long breath. "What's your name? I think you're Dirk Pete?" "My birth certificate clearly says that name."

"Looks like you've got a lot of luck, Mr. Pete. As far as I know, you're dead." "It just goes to prove that you can't believe the nonsense on board." Pete took off his damp top and draped it lightly over Dana's shoulders. "I'm sorry, dear, that's the best I can do at the moment." Then turning to Prevlov, "Do you object?" Prevlov shook his head.Pete's casual behavior confuses him.He studied Pete as carefully as a diamond cutter studies a gem.But he could see nothing in Pete's hazy sea-green eyes. Prevlov gestured to the next soldier.The man came to Pete: "It's purely a precautionary measure, we want to search, Mr. Pete, do you object?"

Pete shrugged his shoulders in agreement, then held up his hands.The guard quickly and expertly searched Pete's clothes from top to bottom, took a step back, and shook his head. "No weapons," said Prevlov. "You're very clever, but it's quite expected of a man of your stature. I've looked at the archives of your exploits with some interest. I would have been more than happy to have done so under more friendly circumstances." Know you." "I'm sorry, but I can't flatter you quite so much," said Pete cheerfully, "but you're exactly the kind of vermin I don't want to know as a friend."

Prevlov took two steps forward and slapped Pete hard with the back of his hand. Pete staggered back a step and stopped.Blood trickled down from the corner of his still grinning mouth. "Ah, ah," he murmured softly, "the brilliant Andrei Prevlov has lost his cool at last." Prevlov leaned forward, squinting alertly, appraising. "My name?" His voice was almost whispering, "You know my name?" "Everyone," Pete replied, "I know about you as much as you know about me." "You're even smarter than I thought," said Prevlov. "You've recognized me—your ability to recognize is remarkable. I admire you for that. But you don't have to. Bragging about what you know. You know nothing but my name."

"I doubt it. Perhaps I can enlighten you with a piece of folklore." "I'm impatient with fairy tales," said Prevlov, gesturing to the guard with the knife. "Now I would be very grateful if our work of persuading Admiral Sandek to continue to encourage your pump crews to pump." The tall guard with the mask covering his face started walking towards Dana again.He held out the knife, the blade gleaming in the light no more than three inches from Dana's left breast.She tightly wrapped the coat that Pete put on her, staring at the knife on her chest, dazed with fright.

"It's a pity you're not interested in fairy tales," said Pete nonchalantly. "I'm sure you'll love this story. It's about two people called Silver and Gold who made a big mistake." Prevlov glanced at him, hesitated for a moment, then nodded and told the guards to step back: "I'm listening, Mr. Pete. I'll give you five minutes to prove your point." "Not very long," said Pete, pausing to rub his eyes covered with clotted blood: "Well, once upon a time there were two Canadian engineers who found spying a lucrative sideline, so They abandoned all guilt and anxiety, and became veritable professional spies. They tried their best to obtain the confidential information of the US marine plan and sent it to Moscow through secret channels. The gold and silver duo made money and did not make any mistakes. The past two years For years, the Russians knew every detail of the US Ocean Service's plan. When the Titanic salvage issue was brought up, the Soviet Navy's Foreign Intelligence Service - this is your department, Plevgev - immediately caught wind. You don't have to play tricks, and you have two at your disposal instead of one. These two are in a very good position to obtain and deliver the most advanced deep water salvage technology in the United States. Of course, there is another very important reason, But you didn't realize it at the time."

"Gold and Silver," Pete went on, "delivered regular intel on salvage wrecks through clever methods. They used dry cell acoustic transmitters, devices that emit underwater sound waves similar to sonar. When the Caprican I could have figured it out when the sonar man picked up that transmission. But I took it as the sound of deep water jets hitting the Titanic. Nobody thought someone was sending coded messages. Nobody bothered to think Decipher the random noises. I say no one, except the man on the Mikhail Kurkov who sits next to a hydrophone." Pete pauses and looks around the dining room.Everyone is listening. "Henry Munk had to go to the toilet at an unlucky time, and we didn't realize that something was wrong until then. When he walked back from the stern of the Sapphire II to the bow, he heard the sound of the sound wave emitter, so we went to check He caught one of the spies on the spot. Your man may be trying to lie to get away, but Henry Munk is an instrument expert. He recognized the sonic emitter used for comms when he saw it, and quickly saw through it. What's going on. Then you have to kill people. You can't let Munk speak out, and he did it. Someone hit the back of his head with a Woodson camera tripod. This of course made the murderer feel embarrassed, so he put Munk Munk's head hit the alternator cover in what looked like an accident. But the fish didn't catch the fish. Woodson was skeptical, and so was I. Also, Dr. Bailey found a scar on Munk's head and neck. But , since I couldn't prove who the murderer was, I decided to treat it as an accident and charge after gathering enough evidence. Later, I went back and searched the submarine and found a sonic emitter, and a slightly used, curved Terrific camera tripods, ironically our friendly neighbor's spies stash them in Munk's private storage room. Going ashore to check for fingerprints would be a waste of time. I'd say without this accident This is a professional spy. I put the tripod and the sonic launcher there exactly as they were. I think your intelligence officers are complacent and it is only a matter of time before they reconnect with the Mikhail Kurkov. So I waiting."

"A fascinating story," said Prevlov, "but none of it matters. It's impossible for you to get absolute proof." Pete smiled inscrutably and continued: "Except for a series of unrelated people, you can get the evidence. I'm pretty sure that the murderer must be one of the three people on the submarine who are believed to have slept during off-duty hours. So , I shifted the roster of the crew of the Sapphire 2 every few days so that two of them were on the surface and the third was on the submerged shipwreck. Our sonar crews were getting intel from the sonic transmitters again Then, I found Munk's murderer."

"Who is it, Pete?" snapped Spencer. "There are ten of us here, are they among us?" Pete and Prevlov exchanged glances, then turned abruptly and nodded to one of the group of men huddled wearily under the light. "I'm sorry to be able to do the introduction with the waves crashing against the hull instead of the drums, but bear with me, Drummer, you've got to come out and bow and say thank you, it's probably your celebration The last performance before the electric chair." "Ben Dramer!" gasped Gunn. "I don't believe it. He's exhausted, thirsty, and covered in blood from his fight with Woodson's murderer; I can't believe it the way he sits there now."

"Fake show," Pete said. "It was too soon to show him what he really was. At least not until we had passed the toughest test. Prevlov needed a messenger then so that Let him know when we intend to recover the ship." "He lied to me," Giordino said. "He worked harder than anyone on board to keep the Titanic afloat." "Is that so?" Pete came over. "Yes, he looks busy all the time, even sweaty and muddy. But what have you seen him do since we got on the boat?" Gunn shook his head. "But he... I think he's checking the boat day and night."

"Inspect the boat, go to hell. Drummer was running around with a portable acetylene torch and burned holes in the bottom of the boat." "I don't understand," said Spencer, "if these Russian friends of his wanted the boat, why would he destroy it?" "It's a desperate gamble to prolong the time," Pete replied. "Timing is of the essence. The only chance for the Russians to successfully board the Titanic is when the eye of the hurricane approaches. That's a high move. We never thought of the possibility. If complaining hadn't encountered any trouble in towing the Titanic, we should have been thirty miles from the eye of the hurricane. But, thanks to Drummer, the ship The towing operation was messed up. Before the cable broke, the ship swayed out of the channel, causing the tug to slow down to minimum speed. You saw it too, only from Prevlov and his men. The fact that he helped the robbers board the ship is enough to show that Drummer's efforts were successful." At this time, everyone began to understand the truth of the matter.None of the salvage crews actually saw Drummer work hard at the pumps, nor did they ever offer to do his share.On the contrary, he always left his post, and when he appeared, he complained that the difficulties were insurmountable, preventing him from patrolling the ship.They watched Drummer intently, as if he were an alien from another world, waiting, expecting him to say something indignant in denial. He didn't deny it.There was no sign of a startled defense of one's innocence, just fleeting annoyance.The rapidity with which Drummer's expression changed was simply astonishing.The look of despair and sadness in the eyes disappeared, and now they were shining sharply.Gone was the languidly turned corners of the mouth, the sluggish, indifferent gesture.The listless appearance has been swept away, replaced by straight shoulders, like a nobleman. "Let me say, Pete," said Drummer in a clear voice, "that your observations would make a first-rate spy proud. But you haven't thought of anything to really change the situation. " "It's amazing," said Pete, "that our former buddy suddenly can't hear that cheerful Southern accent when he speaks." "I'm pretty good at that accent, aren't I?" "You've got more than that, Drummer. You learned how to get secrets and murder friends somewhere when your career first started." "It's the way it is in this business," Drummer said.He moved away from the salvage crew slowly until he was standing next to Prevlov. "Tell me, which one are you, silver or gold?" "It doesn't matter now," Drummer said with a shrug. "I'm Kim." "Then your brother is Silver." Drummer's smug expression turned serious. "You know what?" he said slowly. "Since I've been eyeing you, I've turned over the little bit of evidence I have to the FBI. I have to give Prevlov and his comrades at Naval Intelligence a credit. They made you a copy of the Fake resumes, which describe you as an ordinary American, as ordinary as American apple pie, or as ordinary as Georgia peach pie in the south, and even seem to be as genuine as the American Confederate flag. However, the federal investigation The bureau finally saw through these fake documents, although these documents proved that your security clearance was impeccable. Then they traced it all the way to Nova Scotia, Canada, where you and your brother were born, Halifax hometown... I can also tell You, you and your brother were born only ten minutes apart." "My God," Spencer muttered, "Twins." "Yes, but with a different appearance. It doesn't even look like brothers." "In this way, the problem is simple; as long as you know one of them, you can naturally know the other twin." "It's not that simple," Pete replied. "Dramer and his brother, they're both very smart. I have to admit it. My main mistake was trying to find commonalities between the two." , thought they were supposed to have the same likes and dislikes, live in the same place, or be inseparable. But gold and silver are the complete opposite. Dramer is as affectionate as everyone and lives alone. There's nothing I can do about it. Commonwealth The bureau had to review the security clearances of each salvage crew for clues to Drummer's brother, but no one could find an obvious connection. Then there was a near-tragedy, opening that opened up Fox Tail caught." "The Abyss incident," said Gunn, watching Drummer coldly and intently. "But Drummer has nothing to do with the submarine. He's a crew member of the Saffer II." "That's his next of kin, you know, his brother is on the Deep Sea Exploration." "How did you guess?" Drummer asked. "Twins have a strange bond. They think and feel as if they were one. You can act like you have nothing to do, Drummer, but you're so close that one of you is on the brink of death." , the other must be restless. You feel your brother's pain as if you were down with him in the depths of the sea." "Of course," Gunn said, "we were all nervous, but Drummer was almost hysterical." "The next step is to conduct a series of de-suspecting work on the other three people: Chavez, Keir and Merk. Chavez is obviously of Mexican descent, which cannot be faked; Kiel is eight years younger, too young, You can't fake that either. The rest is Sam Merck." "Damn it!" Spencer whispered, "how we've been duped for so long." "It's not hard to imagine, you just have to consider that our opponents are the most able men Russia can send." Pete had a smile on his lips, "Besides, Spencer, you once said that we have ten One, you miscounted; there were eleven. You didn't count the man who did the rough work." He turned and stood in front of Dana with the knife that seemed to be in his hands. The guard, rooted in his hand, said, "Why don't you take off your stupid disguise and join them, Merk." Slowly the guard took off his hat and undid the mask covering the lower half of his face. "That's the bastard who stabbed Woodson," Giordino hissed. "I'm sorry," said Merk quietly. "Woodson's first mistake was that he recognized me. If he had let me go, he might not have died. His second mistake was fatal. , to attack me." "Woodson is your friend." "There are no friends in the business of espionage." "Merck," Sandek said, "Merke and Drummer, silver and gold, I trusted you two before, but you betrayed the Ocean Bureau, and you betrayed us for two years, why? For a few Stinky money?" "More than a few miles, Admiral." Merk sheathed the knife, "enough to sustain me and my brother for a long time to live a good life." "Hey, where's he from?" Gunn asked. "Isn't Merck supposed to be in Dr. Bailey's infirmary on the Capricorn?" "He sneaked off in Sturgis' helicopter," Pete said, wiping his bleeding head with a wet hand. "That's impossible!" blurted Sturgis. "You were there when I opened the cargo hatch, Pete. There was no one else on board except Mrs. Seagram." "Merck is still there. After he slipped away from Dr. Bailey, he avoided his own cabin and went to his brother Drummer's quarters, borrowed a clean suit and put on a pair of cowboy boots." After that he sneaked into the helicopter, threw out the emergency life raft, and hid under the tarpaulin. Unfortunately, Dana just went there to find her makeup box. When she ran down to get it, Seeing Merck's boots protruding from under the life raft's tarpaulin, in order not to let her break his escape, he picked up a hammer nearby and hit her on the head, wrapped her in a tarpaulin, and climbed back to him. hiding place." "That means Merck was still in the hold when we undid the oilcloth off Mrs. Seagram." "No. He was gone by then. If you recall, when you opened the cargo door, we waited for a few minutes to hear if there was any movement inside. There was no movement at all, because Merck was opening the door. The noise of the drive motor Climbed into the cab under cover. By the time you and I walked into the cargo hold like the cops, he had lowered the ladder and slipped away safely through the night." "Why put the hammer in the horizontal blade?" Sturgis asked. "For what purpose?" "Because the helicopter came in empty from the Capricorn," said Merk, "no need to unload; you don't know, you've locked me in. I can't risk you not opening the cargo door." Just fly away." "You've been a busy little beaver ever since," Pete said to Merk, "running around the boat according to the sketches Drummer provided, of course. First, with your brother's hand-cutter, Sergeant Bascom and his men cut the cable while resting in the gymnasium between patrols and then cut the tether to the helicopter. I'm sure you must have felt pretty proud as the plane slid off the ship I happened to be inside." "Two birds with one stone," Merck admitted. "Why deny..." The muffled echo of a submachine gun from somewhere below deck interrupted Merk.Prevlov shrugged and looked at Sandek. "I'm afraid your subordinates are making trouble down there." He threw away the cigarette butt from the cigarette holder and stamped it out with his boots. "I think this discussion has gone on long enough. In a few hours the storm will subside and the Mikhail Kurkov will come to tow it. Admiral Sandek, you are in charge of getting your men with us Co-operate and run the pumps. Drummer will tell you where he's burned holes below the waterline for the rest of your crew to plug." "So, torture is going to happen again." Sandek said contemptuously. "For me, the drama is over, Admiral." Prevlov looked determined.He said a few words to one of the guards; the guard was short, stocky and brutish.It was he who stabbed Sandek in the waist with a gun: "His name is Bouskey, a straightforward man who happens to be the best shooter in their regiment. He can speak a few words of English and can at least translate one, two, Numbers like three, four." Prevlov turned to the guard: "Bouskey, I'll start counting, and as soon as I count to five, you shoot Mrs. Seagram's right arm; count to ten. , shoot her in the left arm, count to fifteen, and shoot her in the right knee. You do that until Admiral Sandek changes that uncooperative attitude." "This idea is quite logical." Pete continued, "After we finish your mission, you will kill us all, then press something on the body, throw it into the sea and sink it, so that no one can find it." ...you can announce later that we abandoned the ship and hid in the helicopter, which of course crashed itself just as you needed. You can even present two witnesses, Drummer and Merk, Their miraculous survival is a testament to how mercifully the benevolent Russians brought them up before they sank a third time." "I don't see any need to prolong this pain," said Prevlov wearily. "Bouskey!" Bouskey raised his automatic and aimed it at Dana's arm. "You make me wonder," Pete said. "You're not interested in how I knew Drummer and Merck's codenames, or how I didn't throw them in brig right away after I discovered them. You're not even interested in how I knew you I don't seem to want to know his name." "Yes, I would like to know, but it doesn't matter now. The situation has changed, and no one can help you and your friends at all, Pete. Not now. The FBI, the whole Neither the U.S. Navy nor the U.S. Navy will help. The situation is settled and there is no need to play with words." Prevlov nodded to Bousky and called, "One." "Colonel Prevlov counts to four and you're dead, Bouskey." Bouskey smiled smugly, but didn't answer. "two." "We know you intend to seize the Titanic. Admiral Sandek and I knew about it forty-eight hours ago." "You've exhausted your last means of intimidation," said Prevlov. "Three." Pete shrugged nonchalantly. "Then all responsibility rests with you, Prevlov." "Four." The deafening sound pierced through the dining room, a bullet hit Bouskey right under the hairline between his eyebrows, knocking off a quarter of his skull at once, turning it into a slowly flowing blood-red blur; Throwing back his head, he fell with a thud on the deck, like a lifeless eagle with outstretched wings, at Prevlov's feet. Dana screamed in pain as she was pushed onto the deck.Without apologizing, Pete pinned her to the ground, covering her with his one hundred and ninety-pound body, suffocating her. Giordino ran to Sandek and pulled him down with the brute force of a football forward trying to hug an opponent. The other crew members didn't even waste a tenth of a second, and immediately showed their favorite self-defense skills.They scatter and lie down like leaves blown in a storm. Dramer and Merk seemed to be shackled together, and fell down together. As the guards came to their senses and started firing automatic pistols into the darkness at the restaurant's entrance, the sound of gunfire still echoed in the far corner of the restaurant. The shooting of the guards was pointless.The first guard was killed almost immediately, falling headlong.The second guard threw his automatic pistol into the air and quickly covered the blood dripping from his neck with his hand, while the third knelt down slowly, staring blankly at the two small holes that suddenly appeared in the center of his shirt's chest. Only Prevlov stood alone.He stared at them, then at Pete.His expression showed resignation, an admission of defeat and death.He nodded to Pete, then calmly drew the pistol from its holster and began firing into the darkness.He finished the shot, stood waiting for the flash of the bullet, and plucked up his courage to bear the pain of the imminent death.However, no one fired back at him.The room fell silent.Everything seems to slow down.Only then did he suddenly realize that they did not want him to die. It turned out that this was all a trap.But he walked into the tiger's den innocently like a child. A person's name began to tear at his heart, mocking him, ringing in his ears over and over again. Majanin...Maganin...Maganin...