Caesare looked dubious. “If only you two know about this team, what happens when the two of you…retire?”
Miller crossed his arms. “In the event that both of us leave our posts, for whatever reason, it’s over. The team dissolves immediately, and Mr. Borger erases every trace.”
Caesare nodded and looked at the others. “So I guess the question now is…who’s in?”
“I am,” answered Neely.
Borger grinned. “Same here.”
Caesare looked to DeeAnn. “Dee?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m more surprised than anyone to be saying this, but I’m in. After seeing what they did to that mountain, what the stakes are, I get it. I see just how far some people are willing to go over this.”
Caesare was stunned.
She smiled at him. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to see Africa.”
Clay looked up at Alison. “Ali?”
Without a word, she displayed a wide smile.
Epilogue
I
The rusted red steel of the aging oil rig stood in sharp contrast against the Caribbean’s emerald-blue water. The Valant, one of the first deep ocean production rigs, was small in comparison to the newer and more powerful mobile rigs. Yet it still dwarfed the Pathfinder, anchored just a quarter mile from the Valant’s pillars, which towered high above the ocean surface.
Transocean’s skeleton crew had already been evacuated once the rig was securely in place, replaced by an even smaller Navy crew. A crew comprised almost entirely of engineers, most of who were transferred directly from Captain Emerson’s ship.
The group of eight stood in line atop the Valant’s upper platform. They watched as the Sea King helicopter slowed and approached the helipad in front of them, clearly marked by a bright-red painted circle.
With only a wisp of a breeze, the Sea King landed smoothly with a gentle bounce, followed by the sound of the rotor’s decelerating.
The door slid open and a younger man jumped down onto the deck. Beneath the wind from the spinning blades, he trotted across the small pad, wheeled a small set of stairs back to the chopper, and placed them in position. The second person out was older, in his sixties, carrying a black duffle bag in each hand.
He descended the stairs, and upon reaching the bottom, dropped the bags at a safe distance. He continued across the pad to where Captain Emerson was waiting.
Emerson moved forward and extended his hand, which the man accepted with a firm shake. They spoke briefly, but could not be heard above the helicopter. Instead, they turned toward the men and waited.
“Gentlemen,” Emerson finally announced in a loud voice. “I’d like you to meet Mr. Les Gorski. He’s one of the best commercial divers on the planet, and the man who is going to do his damndest to turn all of you into bona fide divers. In case you have any doubts, it may help you to know that Mr. Gorski works extensively, training both Delta Force and SEAL teams. He is uniquely suited for this as he not only knows a great deal about deepwater diving, he invented some of the equipment you will be using.”
Emerson looked back and forth among the men. “We have very little time, which means that neither does Mr. Gorski. So you can bet he will be pushing you men hard. Let me also remind you that this rig and the Pathfinder are both under communication lockdown. Anything you send or receive will be intercepted and heavily scrutinized. So, if you want to get a message through to your loved ones and remain here, I suggest you make it short and sweet. What lies below your feet is not some myth. It’s not a conspiracy. It is a bona fide alien spacecraft. And be it luck or fate, you are the men who are going to get the first crack at it. We will take every precaution but make no mistake, this is dangerous business, which is why Mr. Gorski is here. He will teach you how to live and work at depth and if he can, he will also try to keep you from dying.”
Several of the men smiled at Emerson’s last comment but quickly realized there was no trace of humor on the captain’s face. They watched as he turned to Gorski and nodded.
At roughly six feet tall, Les Gorski examined the group of men with his steely eyes, set behind a pair of dark framed glasses. His face was weathered and hardened against years of sun and wind. He kept himself from shaking his head. The men he was used to dealing with were very different from those standing in front of him.
He turned and glanced back at his two seasoned team members, methodically unloading heavy bags of diving equipment. “All right men,” he said, turning back. “Listen up!”
II
Lee sat quietly in the observation room, staring at the glass tank as if in a trance. On the other side of the glass, Dirk and Sally were as quiet as he was. They kept moving around the tank with the same slow, dour feeling as Lee and the others.