Suddenly a new worry gripped him. Had the missile's precious contents been destroyed by the blast?! Slowly he began making his way back to the Sea Hound.
Unknown to Tom, Bud was fighting a desperate battle with his adversary barely fifty yards away. The divers grappled each other in an octopuslike duel. At such depths, their movements were impeded, as if by oil.
The Brungarian pulled out the knife at his belt. Bud, a skilled wrestler from high-school days, managed to twist his foe's knife arm behind his back—then applied a punishing judo hold! The Brungarian gave an audible screech of pain and dropped the knife.
"Now you're coming along with me!" Bud muttered. He gunned his jet, forcing himself and his adversary toward the Sea Hound.
Moments later, they passed the seacopter's cabin window. Reaching the air lock, Bud hammered for admission. The hatch opened quickly and his prisoner was hauled inside. Bud followed.
Tom greeted him with a bear hug. "Hi, Bud, you old devilfish!" Turning to the prisoner, Tom added "Who's this?"
"The rat who fired that grenade at you!"
The prisoner was wearing a frogman costume and a mask which hid the lower part of his face. The man's dark eyes glittered in hate, as Tom ordered him to remove his mask. Sullenly the prisoner obeyed.
Tom gasped. "Dimitri Mirov!" The name sent a shock through the Americans aboard.
"Wal, I'll be jing-whistled!" Chow declared, then broke into a gleeful cackle.