The cold seeped through the leather instantly.

I grabbed the handrail of the sail to keep my balance as the deck tilted slightly to port.

“We have to get that hatch open,” Hayes said.

He drew his service pistol, though we both knew a nine-millimeter round would do nothing against three inches of treated naval steel.

From inside the hull, a muffled scream echoed through the ventilation exhaust pipe near the sail.

The sound was thin, distorted by the rushing water, but it was human.

They were trapped below, and the river was coming in.

I looked toward the pier.

Lieutenant Carter was standing there, watching us sink.

He had a flashlight in his hand, its beam bouncing wildly across the dark water.

“Get the emergency bypass keys!” I screamed at him.

My voice was swallowed by the roar of the venting air.

The water was up to my ankles now.

The submarine was settling fast.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

I pulled it out, my fingers trembling so hard I almost dropped it into the rising tide.

The screen lit up with an incoming call.