We reached the heavy watertight door leading to the forward compartment.

The wheel on the door was locked tight.

“It’s sealed from the other side,” I said, checking the mechanical indicator.

“They’ve isolated the control room.”

“Can we bypass it?” Hayes asked, his hand resting on his sidearm.

“The emergency hydraulic release is on this side,” I said, pointing to a small brass plunger near the hinge.

“But it will trigger an alarm in the radio shack.”

“They already know we’re here,” Hayes said.

“Stand back.”

I stepped behind Hayes as he gripped the manual release lever.

He pulled it down with a sharp, downward jerk.

The seals on the door hissed, releasing a cloud of stale, warm air from the forward cabin.

The heavy steel door swung open slowly, revealing the dark, narrow passage beyond.

At the far end of the corridor, a single computer monitor glowed with a bright blue light.

The screen showed a progress bar, steadily climbing toward one hundred percent.

Beside the monitor, a phone on the bulkhead began to ring, its shrill bell echoing in the empty passageway.