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Jack reached out and clasped the large man's hand. Then Charlie lowered the acrylic dome over Jack's head and screwed it into place. Once done, Charlie gave Jack a thumbs-up and dove off the sub, joining the marine biologist in the water as Jack finalized his checklist.

Around the Fathom, the other search ships were spread in a wide circle. Off to the south, the Gibraltar filled the horizon. Overhead, & Sea Knight helicopter buzzed by. All eyes remained on Jack and his tiny sub.

Okay, man. It's your funeral.

I see you at least keep abreast of current events out here, Houston teased lightly, but his voice quickly grew sober again. His brows knit with worry. Washington is screaming for answers. Before Nafe can be sworn in, we need to put the fate of President Bishop to rest. Already rumors are spreading. Some are claiming terrorists-Arabs, Russian, Chinese, Serbian, or even the I.R.A. Take your pick. Some are saying it's all a hoax. Some say it's a conspiracy tied to JFK The admiral shook his head. It's a friggin' mess. For order to be restored, we need concrete answers. We need a body we can bury with the usual pomp and ceremony. That's why we're here.

Alone, Jack sank into one of the seats. He wiped his damp palms on his trousers. The gravity of the situation began to press on him. For the first time in a decade, he sensed the eyes of the world again looking in his direction.

What about the Vice President? Lawrence Nafe?

Jack nodded, standing also. Of course. It's Air Force One. The President.

Charlie clambered over to Jack. He stared with concern at his friend. You sure about this, monl That's a long way down. Deeper than you've ever flown this girl.

'It's more than just the President, Jack. We've lost Presidents before. But never under such circumstances, in the middle of a worldwide catastrophe. As much as the rest of the world disparages the United States and its foreign policy, it still doesn't stop them from looking to us for leadership during a time of crisis-and now we are leaderless, rudderless.

Three hours later Jack found himself back on the Deep Fathom, but not for long. Dressed in his blue Norseman dry suit, he climbed into the cockpit of the Nautilus 2000, squeezing into the cramped seat. Once settled, he hooked up the Bio-Sensor monitors and attached his microphone. He ran down the predive safety checklist with Lisa, who was in the Fathom's pilothouse.

Jack had never seen Mark Houston look so worried. I'll do my best to help, he said sincerely. Just ask, and I'll do it.

Jack had never seen Mark Houston look so worried. I'll do my best to help, he said sincerely. Just ask, and I'll do it.

That's why I recruited you. Not just for your submersible. It's time you returned to the real world.

Jack had never seen Mark Houston look so worried. I'll do my best to help, he said sincerely. Just ask, and I'll do it.

Houston released him and headed toward the door. I have a few last minute details to address, but help yourself to the sandwiches, Jack. The egg salad is especially good. Real eggs, not that powdered shit. The admiral gave him a tired smile, then left, closing the door behind him.

Okay, man. It's your funeral.

Jack looked up at the Jamaican geologist. I'm going, Charlie.

Around the Fathom, the other search ships were spread in a wide circle. Off to the south, the Gibraltar filled the horizon. Overhead, & Sea Knight helicopter buzzed by. All eyes remained on Jack and his tiny sub.

And the Navy is the real world? Jack snorted.

Around the Fathom, the other search ships were spread in a wide circle. Off to the south, the Gibraltar filled the horizon. Overhead, & Sea Knight helicopter buzzed by. All eyes remained on Jack and his tiny sub.

Houston released him and headed toward the door. I have a few last minute details to address, but help yourself to the sandwiches, Jack. The egg salad is especially good. Real eggs, not that powdered shit. The admiral gave him a tired smile, then left, closing the door behind him.

Jack just stared, dumbfounded.

Jack just stared, dumbfounded.

Jack looked up at the Jamaican geologist. I'm going, Charlie.

On the drawing boards maybe, but this is real life. Hie ocean has a way of surprising you. She can be a real bitch.

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