The Yacht slows as is nears the spot where the Sea Horse incured the damage. The expanse of the Bay Bridge still intact looms just ahead. Off to the west Maze could see what was supposed to be the area where the new Giants basball stadium was supposed to be built, the war got in the way and it was just a large flat area of earth.
You are just under a klick offshore, once a commercial shipping lane. The obstacle is some where around here. The Fecund tells the divers to finish gearing up and orders the Sea Horse captain and Maze out of the wheel house, she climbs up into it as they depart.
The yachts motor rumbles quietly as the yacht begins slowly moving inshore, slightly zig zagging. The Sea Horse captain climbs to the bow, then returns yelling to the pilot and the Fecund aside her, “WE ARE VERY NEAR YOU SHOULDN’T RISK STRIKING IT.”
“Be quiet, we are prepared,” The Fecund’s voice is stern in response. Maze is aware of the Fecund looking down into the dash of the yacht. He places a hand on the captain’s shoulder “I think they have a working sonar” he says softly. Back in the day, most every boater could afford a sonar set for about $500-$1000, before the war that is. Almost every one was wrecked by EMP and the few that survived were litteraly priceless.
Maze is quiet as he takes a step up to the pilot house, peering in on the Fecund. She indeed has opened a protective cover up and is gazing into a screen, her hand is moving as she directs the yachts pilot. Maze decends the stair and nods to the Sea Horse Captain, mouthing quietly “Yes Sonar”
Within a half hour the boat zig zags toward the shoreline and back, its motor humming, waves slapping against its sides, no talk except for occasional directions from Fecund.
“Anchor” is heard from the pilot house, and the boats motor goes to idle, chains clatter as an automatic anchor splashes down in front of the yacht. The Fecund descends the stairs as the one of the divers emurges from below.
The Fecund talks quietly with the one diver then call below for the other one. Both young woman are in complete diving gear including wetsuits. The water in the bay is as cold as it will get all year at just over 50 degrees. Wetsuits are good down to just about this temp, letting a thin layer of water in that your body can warm. It would be a cold dive until the girls bodies could warm that water up and not very plesent even then. They were just on the temperature edge of needing a drysuit.
The divers don their tanks and drop over the side, complete with the red and white “Diver Down” flag run up the mast, as if this was a recreational dive from before the war. The Fecund and the boat’s pilot are silent, the Fecund staring and watching the trails of bubbles as the divers move below the surface. Maze and the Sea Horse captain are likewise silent, letting Maggie’s Chart Chicks do their work.
Within a half hour the girls have returned, Maze listens as the girls tell of the bow of a cargo ship just feet below the surface. It has apparently shifted, possibly due to recent seismic activity. Maze remembers the tremor felt in the bay a few days ago that raised waves and shook the shore. The sunken cargo ship’s stern has settled significantly, thrusting the bow upward. Like a fat kid sitting heavily on a teeter toter sending a smaller child skyward.
“Pilot,” yells the Fecund, “the marker buoy please.” The pilot comes down from the pilot house and moves to the lower cabin. “You two go help her” The Fecund orders Maze and the Sea Horse Captain. Maze again is not used to this ordering about, but relents to get the job done. The three of them pull a scarred pre-war orange and white cylinder buoy with a heavy length of chain attached.
The buoy only weighs about 75 pounds but is unwieldy as most of the weight is contained in the base to keep it upright. The chain has a large clasp/clamp the divers will need to secure to the wreck. The buoy is thrown overboard and after another half hour the divers have secured it to the wreck’s nose. Now secured it bobs easily visible to keep boats away.
The divers return and are hauled on board. Fecund orders Maze and Captain into the pilot house, “start the motor, raise the anchor, hold position.” she says to both of them. They climb into the pilot house and Maze motions for the captain to take the helm, he notices the sonar unit’s cover has been fastened back down securing it from damage or theft.
The starter whines, the motor coughs to life, adding the whir of an internal electric motor raising the anchor..several minutes go by, there is a commotion on the rear deck that turns Maze’s attention. All 4 women are on the rear deck. The Fecund and pilot have pistols drawn with their backs to you. in front of them are the two divers, both facing the Fecund and the pilot . One diver is suited back into the dungarees that she came on board with, the other still in a black one piece bathing suit.
Maze takes stock of the situation noticing that the bathing suited female is the target, her eyes are wide with fear. The other dungareed female is clearly not comfortable either, but she is slightly off to the side of the boat, the bathing suited female is the one with the guns pointed at her. The Fecund yells over her shoulder “There is NOTHING here that concerns you!” which Maze assumes is directed at himself and the captain.
Maze quietly unfastens the strap on his Beretta’s holster and rests his palm on the butt, he can have the pistol out in an instant if the need arrises….