The Silent Insignia and the Hidden Traitor of New London
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.