“That must be Sladek’s plane, keeping track of us,” nodded Ford. “I understand his ship is ready to go at a moment’s notice. He’s gathered a crew of thirty of the toughest characters on the waterfront and promised them all a good slice of the bullion if he gets it. Knowing Sladek as I do, I wouldn’t put much faith in his word if I were a member of that crew.”
When the S-18 was clear of the lower bay, the warning bell sounded and everyone on deck went below. Hatches were made fast and every member of the crew went to his station. For Tim there was nothing to do but stand in the control room and watch the activities of the others for he was not experienced enough in submarine operation to be placed at one of the important posts.
Commander Ford’s commands were crisp and alert. The Diesels were silent and only the faint humming of the big electric motors could be heard. Then the S-18 moved on a slight angle and Tim knew they were going below. He had encountered a good many queer sensations in an airplane, but none quite so alarming as the one which gripped him now. He was actually going under the surface with only the thin steel walls of the submarine to ward off the destructive force of the water.
Tim glanced around the control room. Commander Ford was standing with his eyes glued to the periscope. Pat was at the main diving rudders. Forman Gay and Erich Gaunt were at the valves which controlled the ballast tanks. All were silent, intent on their work.
“Are the forward ballast tanks flooded?” snapped the commander.
“Yes sir,” replied Pat.
“How about the after tanks?”
“They’re flooded.”
“Then level off and hold her at forty feet.”
The submarine resumed her even keel, but Tim knew they were forty feet below the surface.