Page 156 of Clive Cussler Ghost Soldier

TheOregonwas docked at the same Malaysian shipyard where she had been born a few years back. It was an ideal place for her to be refurbished in secrecy and seclusion. After greasing the right palms, the necessary permissions were granted and nosy inspectors turned away.

In addition to the needed repairs, the op center team decided it was also the perfect opportunity to reevaluate theOregon’s current mix of offensive and defensive systems. Thanks to inputs from Murph and Eric, the next iteration of the mighty ship would prove even more protected and lethal when she set sail again in a few months.

With theOregonentering dry dock soon, Cabrillo gave all of the Gundogs and most of the crew a paid thirty days leave. Only a skeleton crew of engineers and technicians were staying behind to supervise the repairs and refurbishment.

Max, Murph, Eddie, and Linda gathered on the dock to say their goodbyes to Juan and Callie. TheOregon’s mighty shadow and a freshening breeze kept the warm tropical sun at bay. Murph’s wounded arm was in a sling, and Eric awkwardly cradled something behind his back.

Juan and Callie were flying to Honolulu to meet with her design team and work on a few upgrades for a new variant of theSpook Fish. The first one had performed so admirably that Cabrillo wanted to acquire one for futureOregonoperations. The trip to Hawaii was also an excuse for Cabrillo to get some much needed rest, and equally important, to reacquaint himself with a surfboard once his rib cage settled down.

“I brought this,” Linda said, still wearing her eye patch. She handed Callie a bottle of the neon-peach hair color Callie had admired when she first arrived.

“Can’t wait to try it,” Callie said as she hugged Linda. “Love the pirate look, by the way.”

Linda whispered, “Don’t tell the guys, but Hux said I don’t need it anymore.”

Callie giggled. “Our secret.”

For a brief moment after Callie’s rescue, Linda had been overwhelmed with guilt for firing the torpedo that had nearly killed her friend. But Callie assured her all was well and that she would have done the same thing had their roles been reversed. The incident only deepened their mutual respect and friendship.

Eric cleared his throat. Callie turned around and Eric presented his gift.

Callie smiled with delight. It was a brass plaque engraved with the silhouette of a woman free diving to the surface. It readCallie Cosima, unofficial women’s world record, 352.7 feet.

“This is beautiful. Thank you.”

“I thought it up, but the boys in the shop put it together. That depth was the last sonar reading I had on theSpook Fishwhen you blew the emergency hatch. I know it’s not official or anything, but it’s your personal best, for sure.”

“Maybe I set the official world record for escaping a wrecked submarine.”

“What a dope! Why didn’t I think about that? I’ll definitely check it out.”

“No need.” Callie grinned. “It’s perfect the way it is.” She turned to Murph and hugged him, careful not to touch his sling.

“It was a real pleasure meeting you, Dr. Murphy. Keep up the good work.”

Murph blushed redder than a Grainger County tomato.

“The pleasure was all mine, trust me.”

A bicycle bell rang behind them. They all turned around.

A brightly coloredbeca, the local version of a bicycle-powered tuk-tuk, approached the farewell gathering and braked to a squeaking halt. The wiry young Malaysian driver sported a wide toothy grin, a San Francisco 49ers jersey, and mirrored aviators.

“I thought you called a limo,” Juan said as he picked up his leather satchel.

“When in Rome.” Max extended his calloused hand.

Juan took it. “You know how to reach me if you need anything.”

Max pulled Juan closer. He nodded at Callie as she tipped the grateful driver for loading her heavy duffel onto thebeca.

“You take extra care of that special lady.”

Juan glanced up at the battle-scarredOregon, her valiant decks looming high above. His face beamed with pride.

“You do the same.”