The Silent Insignia and the Hidden Traitor of New London
“It says ‘AUX HYD’.”
I pulled the latch, but the metal plate was seized by rust and salt.
I needed leverage.
“Hayes, the wrench!” I shouted.
Hayes kicked Miller’s legs out from under him, sending the lieutenant splashing into the shallow water.
He snatched the steel wrench from the floor plates and tossed it to me.
I caught the heavy tool, nearly dropping it into the dark water.
I jammed the flat end of the wrench into the seam of the utility hatch.
I threw my entire weight against the handle.
The metal groaned, and then the latch popped open with a sharp metallic snap.
Inside the dark recess lay a copper pipe and a heavy brass wheel.
The wheel was painted bright red, flaking with age.
“I found it!” I called out.
“Turn it!” Hayes yelled.
He was struggling to hold Miller down as the communications officer thrashed in the rising water.
“It’s seized,” I said, straining against the brass wheel.
The cold metal bit into my bare palms.
The submarine tilted further to the left, the deck sloping at a dangerous fifteen-degree angle.