The Last Roman (Praetorian Series - Book One) by Edward Crichton Page B

were situated, the room automatically filled
with water, and the team was left floating within. I looked through
my goggles to make sure Helena wasn’t freaking out or anything, but
thankfully she seemed fine. Noticing my inspection, she turned and
gave me a thumbs up. Her face was masked by her goggles, and unable
to communicate via our radios, I couldn’t tell if she was truly all
right, but she was tough. She’d be fine.
    McDougal pressed a button on his dashboard, and the
double doors in front of us cracked open. Beyond them was nothing
but blackness, no plant or aquatic life visible. I knew ancient
sewer systems had been discovered by modern archeologists over the
year and could be used as a means to navigate the ancient city
beneath the modern city. They were also pretty disgusting. They had
been steeping for millennia, a breeding ground for hundreds of
kinds of bacteria and disease.
    McDougal gunned his UPV, and the team smoothly
exited the room into the murky water. Our headlights only
penetrated a few feet into the darkness, forcing us to rely on our
GPS. It provided us with waypoints laid out on a rudimentary
topography map, connected by lines already programmed in the
system. Our progress was slow going though not through any lack of
skill on our part, but simply because we were new to the terrain.
As I promised, I stayed just above and behind my swim buddy the
entire way out, and was happy to note she handled her little boat
supremely well.
    One problem avoided.
    About fifteen minutes into the trip, we came to a
solid wall, but our waypoints clearly indicated we needed to go
through the blockade. McDougal held up his fist, indicating for us
to hold our position. He manipulated another switch on his
dashboard, and I began to hear a steady whirring noise and could
see the water clearing. I glanced behind me and noticed a wall was
blocking the way we had just come through. McDougal must have
activated some kind of system that filtered the water in the
sewer.
    A few seconds later, I saw the water clearing
noticeably before the doors opened before us. McDougal motioned
forward, and the team gunned their engines, making a quick right
turn into a narrow passageway to follow the Vatican’s artificial
corridor straight to the Tyrrhenian Sea.
    It took us another forty-five minutes before we left
the coastline and came face to face with a lumbering, whale shaped
behemoth that would become our ride.
    My earpiece crackled to life as McDougal contacted
the submarine using his radio’s push-to-talk button to transmit a
quick burst of Morse Code. The Navy still taught the archaic form
of communication developed in the 1840s, and most Special Forces
outfits learned it as well. Quickly squeezing a radio’s PTT button
transmits a sharp burst of static, which makes for a perfect way to
send the code.
    I heard a return transmission that indicated the sub
was ready for our arrival, and saw McDougal point in my direction.
I sent him an upraised thumb, and made my way to the gigantic
vessel, Helena right behind me.
    Boarding a submarine in nothing but a wetsuit wasn’t
a challenge for a seasoned Navy SEAL, but could be potentially
lethal for an amateur. Had I been in a submarine of my own, and not
alone in a wetsuit, a docking collar would be used to attach the
two subs together. The collar would pressurize, and coming aboard
would be as simple as opening both hatches and crossing the
threshold.
    To a achieve my task, however, I would need to turn
the wheel on the hatch, climb down a ladder till I reach a second
hatch, close the first one, wait for the water to recede in the
little airlock, open the second hatch, and climb down into the
submarine.
    It sounded easy in principle, but it was far more
complicated than it sounds.
    The first step was to secure my UPV in one of the
submarine’s external storage lockers. I found it easily, already
open, and astern of the hatch. Piloting it into the locker, I
abandoned my small craft,