Free The Minoan Cipher (A Matinicus “Matt” Hawkins Adventure Book 2) by Paul Kemprecos

wouldn’t touch the wreck.”
    Looking over at him, she smiled. “Who am I to argue with a respected Woods Hole scientist?”
    Hawkins moved Falstaff back over the stern, then brought the submersible down to less than a yard above the deck and blasted away with the vertical thrusters. The submersible shot up above the billowing cloud of sand. He set Falstaff down again, several feet ahead, hopscotching to the bow. Falstaff pivoted to point back to the deck and, suddenly, its lights illuminated patches of newly exposed planking and ribs.
    “Look at that blackened wood. There was a fire on board,” Hawkins said. “Probably what sent her to the bottom.”
    “Maybe someone knocked over an oil lantern.”
    “Or the ship was sunk during a battle. We’ll make another pass.”
    As Falstaff retraced its route, objects could be seen nestled on and between the planks.
    “I see amphorae!” Kalliste said, practically jumping out of her seat.
    Hawkins was more restrained but he shared her excitement. The clay jugs that carried wine and oil could be vital clues in identifying the wreck. As he scanned the deck his attention was diverted by another object, still partially covered with sand that was larger than the others. It was located on the starboard side, around midships. Something about it looked vaguely familiar.
    Before he could move in for a closer look, he heard a muffled thud come from above. A vibration passed through the passenger sphere.
    Kalliste lifted her eyes toward the surface. “What was that?”
    Hawkins knew from his SEAL days exactly what it was. An explosion. He searched the blackness beyond the floodlights. Then, after a short pause, he heard a second explosion. “Hold on, Kalliste,” he said. “We’re going up.”
    Falstaff rose in a straight vertical line instead of the corkscrew path it had followed on the descent.
    At the thud of a third explosion, Hawkins brought the submersible to a hover. They listened, but heard only the sound of their nervous breathing against the hum of the motors. He reached out for the throttle control and resumed the ascent, slower and with more caution.
    The changing color spectrum was the reverse of the descent, shifting to violet, then blue tinged with yellow and orange.
    Hawkins kept his eyes glued to the fathometer.
    Two hundred feet. One-fifty. One hundred.
    Kalliste had been tight-lipped during the ascent, but she suddenly pointed up. “Dear God!”
    A huge fish-like shape was silhouetted against the sparkle of surface light. It rapidly expanded in size as it gained speed. Hawkins knew in an instant what was coming down from the surface.
    The Sancho Panza .
    And it was about to squash Falstaff under its keel.

CHAPTER TEN
     
    Hawkins messed up Leonidas by getting in the water so quickly. He waited and kept watch through his binoculars…and got stoned. The dope he’d smoked was like brain dynamite. The passage of time was exaggerated under the effects of the cannabis. Seemed like days had gone by. Maybe years. Screw it, he thought. He’d waited long enough. Maybe if he made enough of a ruckus Hawkins would come up to see what was going on.
    He clicked a missile into the launcher. The first Spike would take out the pilot house so no one would call in a Mayday. He sighted just below the window and squeezed the trigger. The Spike whooshed out of the launcher and blew a hole in the side of the pilot house.
    As the structure was engulfed in a ball of flame, he loaded a second missile into the launcher and aimed it at the hull a few inches above the waterline. He squeezed the trigger a second time. The Spike hurtled to its target at six hundred miles per hour. The camera in the nose of the missile sent a picture of a man running back and forth on the stern deck. He must have been panicked by the first missile strike. Little bald guy in a suit. Leonidas cackled. Reminded him of a duck in a shooting gallery. He enclosed the man in the white square that defined the