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Deep Runs The Dreadnaut (IC)

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GM

 

Lightning struck in Vibora Bay.

 

At least, that's what it seemed like at first. There was a sudden flash of light, a great rumble echoing across the harbor, and then there was fire.

 

The coast of Vibora Bay never sleeps. The beaches and waterfronts are active year-round. The water in Vibora Bay was warmer in the winter than it was during the summer in some other beach towns, and even when people weren't swimming, there were still picnics and barbecues. It never got cold enough on land to discourage tourists from all over the world from seeing what the shops and restaurants and nightclubs had to offer. For natives of the Northeast or the Midwest, Vibora winters weren't even jacket-weather. And shipping had always been the life's blood of the Queen City. It was one of the most active ports in the world. This weekend afternoon was no different. Ships had been coming and going constantly, an even mix of cargo freighters, fishing vessels, and pleasure craft.

 

A bulk carrier ship had left the Easton Shore just a few minutes ago. It was about a mile into the water, still a couple more miles until it would have reached the place where the Bay became the Gulf. Now it was on fire, and the flames burned so brightly that, even a mile away, it was difficult to look directly at them. It was like looking into the Sun.

 

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Riley had never heard the word intersectionality before he'd come to Claremont - but as he stood paging through copies of How Things Work (he already had a copy but you just never knew what might happen, and he needed another one for his disaster bag), the word stuck in his mind. On the one hand he fit in perfectly in the upscale LGBT bookstore; a majority of the patrons were men and most of them certainly seemed to be LGBT, holding hands and socializing with each other in ways that made tight things in Riley's chest uncurl, talking about how the gayborhood was gentrifying these days and wasn't that a pity, how they were going to get their kids into a good upscale prep school, and all the rest. But on the other hand he didn't fit in at all - he was a good decade younger than anyone else in the store and one of only two black men in the store, the other working behind the counter. In his leather jacket and jeans, he also was dressed down more than anybody else. Nobody had said a thing, nobody had even followed him around the store the way they sometimes did; but he'd felt the measuring looks from the moment he walked in, and he was pretty sure it wasn't about the way his muscular frame filled out his shirt. 

Of course, he was used to not fitting in. He'd missed the sound of the explosion as he'd walked in, but as the in-store television switched from the Logo Network to breaking news, he muttered a curse and put the book back. Time to get to work! Outside it was the work of a moment to rev up his bike and duck into an alley, changing into Woodsman's gear before he drove back on the streets and started zipping towards the docks, weaving between cars as if he'd learned to drive on city streets and not through tree-slain alleys. There were going to be people who needed help, and maybe it would be nice to have people looking at him as a hero for a change. 

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The Immutable Betsy Brooks

Betsy was whistling to herself as she was wasting her time down at the docks. On her travels down here, she’d come into contact with a few deep One’s in the Caribbean that had owed her a favour, so they’d offered to bring her in a little something that she couldn’t get Vibora City. They were probably getting baked on some rock out in the bay or something, at least that’s what she though before the lightning strike and resulting fire.

 

“Ah for f*** sake!”

 

Well her night was ruined so she should really see if she could help out, looking for something that could get her out to the site quickly. At least she was dressed more for the water than for her general day to day activity.

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Chris was stretched out on a chaise on the beach access of one of the higher class resorts along the bay.  His mom being head of housekeeping gave him legitimate friends and family access, his bronzed body in much of it's glory saw to it that was honored, he fit the cities image after all.   "You mom sees you down here and not looking for a new job she gonna toss you a beating."  one of the towel boys smirked as he cleared the towels left behind by the disappointed divorcee that had recently vacated when she figured out she wasn't his type.  "Chui, You let me worry about ..." 

 

He was cut short by the flash and boom, "Dios!"  Chris exclaimed and barely managed not to cross himself, a small step up from his employed friend.  "What was that ..."  he stared at the bright spot in the bay and shook his head as Chui nudged him, "What?"  

 

"You gonna go check it out right?  Cus you know.."  he made some vague gesture around his head like a crown or halo.  Chris instantly regretted letting the old friend know his secret even if it did buy cover with his mom.  "I mean that's what you do now right?"  he asked expectantly and Chris slowly nodded, "Yea."  he replied and started walking toward the beach, "I guess it is what I do now."  he mumbled to himself and ducked into a changing station emerging in costume and heading for the shore, he wasn't sure what was happening but the chorus rising in his head told him he was needed.

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CHEVAL

 

Marcus stood by the waterfront, just looking out over the water. It wasn't long ago that he had stood on the beach, showing off and playing with the kids. Francis didn't like that he kept taking those charity jobs, kept showing up to kids' birthday parties, but he couldn't help it. He didn't really need to earn money. They had invested a enough to keep him afloat for a long while, after all, and if he didn't do all this for the kids, then why? The kid had enjoyed his presence, crawling all over him, and he had fun, but it was nice with a moment to himself, even if passerbys kept glancing at him. Even outside his costume, wearing a pair of worn jeans and a black t-shirt, he was recognized. Not that he minded.

 

Then, the flash. He instinctively turned away and covered his eyes, before looking out over the bay. Had it been some kind of explosion? No matter, the ship was burning, and the people would need help.

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Persephone

 

"Oh my stars in Heaven!"

 

Camellia Blume had been enjoying an afternoon strolling the central boardwalk with her twin brother, her best friend from college who also happened to be her sister-in-law, and their two adorable little not-yet-old-enough-for-school children. They'd wound their way through the Windsong Mall and dozens of other shops and booths, and were still enjoying their ice cream cones when the explosion struck the ship in the middle of the bay. Camellia encouraged her brother's family to leave sooner rather than later, pointing out that whatever disaster had just struck would make traffic to and from The Waterfront a nightmare for hours. But Camellia intended to stay, in case anyone needed her help. They were skeptical at first, until she reminded them, hardly for the first time, that "Psychiatrists are real doctors, too. Went to medical school and everything. I haven't forgotten how to stitch up a cut or set a broken bone." She handed her purse off to them as they left, asking them to lock it in her car on their way out, and then she took off running toward the beach. She transformed into Persephone as she ran, leaving Camellia's clothes amidst the white sands while she summoned some kelp stems up from the salty depths to ferry her across the water.

 

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GM

 

Just getting to the burning ship would be a challenge in and of itself. It sat about a mile into the Bay from any direction. The water around it, though warm and clear even in winter, were already a good couple hundred feet deep at that point.It would take even a strong swimming over half an hour to get out that far under their own power, and once they did, they wouldn't be much use to anyone else who needed rescuing. None of the assembling heroes owned a boat of their own, but the waterfront and the bay were both full of them. Would the heroes cajole, bribe, or strong-arm the owners into loaning them a craft? Would their superhuman powers allow them to cut this corner like so many others before it? Or would they find some other way to close the gap and render their aid, while there were hopefully still survivors left to benefit from it?

 

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Woodsman drove his motorcycle down to the edge of the nearest dock, thinking ahead. That was what he'd learned, in the Forest Primeval. Acting in haste is death. He stopped the bike and tied it up, ignoring the staring crowd, anonymous behind a mask and costume that were not terribly ocean-friendly now that he thought about it. Luckily spotting a police boat nearby that was hastily untying to make their way to the fire, Woodsman declared his loyalty to the cause by the expedient of jumping in the boat amidst the officers and pointing out towards the burning ship.

 

"Let's do this!" he called; and for the moment, the men and women aboard were glad enough to have a superhero along that nobody stopped to ask about who and who wasn't a municipal defender. For now! 

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Sagrado Corazon hit the beach at a full run charging toward the surf without Woodsmans forethought.  He didn't really have a plan, maybe swim for it, he was a strong swimmer, or grab the first boat he reached and nudge the owner into a loan, for the good of the city.  By the time he realized he ought have thought this out on shore he was far enough out that it became obvious he wasn't waist deep as he'd expect.   Looking down he saw the faint glow of his powers suffusing his skin, barely noticeable under the bright vibora sun, but present.  "Right that would be how this works."  he murmured and looked to the shore and other heroes approaching extending a hand, "Let's go, I got you."  he offered any who needed his aid before turning back to the bay and leading the way toward the burning freighter.

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He wasn't alone here, at least. He could see Persephone and Corazon so far. A police boat heading out. And... Corazon was walking on the water. Somehow, that was even more shocking than anything else that could be done. His instincts drew him in another direction, however, setting into a run to another of his allies.

 

"Persephone!" His voice carried against the wind. She had carried them all before, maybe she could so again. Catching up to her, he couldn't suppress his smile despite the situation, but he stopped himself from giving her the hug he wanted. "Can you get us to the ship?"

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The Immutable Betsy Brooks

Thinking back Betsy recalled a couple of frat boys messing about with a speed boat not far from where she had been waiting ditching the flip flops, her feet being pretty tough, she dashed back to where they were moored up.

 

Not having time to negotiate she jumped down onto the deck and almost growled at the young men.

 

I need this boat the two of you out now” looking over the top of her glasses eyes softly glowing red for a final touch she smiled showing her sharp eye teeth.

 

They couldn’t get out of the boat quick enough and in a few minutes she was making her way towards the ship in some style. She could get use to this, but she’d definitely give the boat back, eventually...

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Persephone

 

Quote

"Persephone!" Catching up to her, he couldn't suppress his smile despite the situation, but he stopped himself from giving her the hug he wanted. "Can you get us to the ship?"

 

The green woman smiled wide when she saw him. "Hey there, Sailor! Climb aboard!" The bed of seaweed that Persephone had summoned up from the depths and woven together into a small makeshift raft swung back around to Cheval, and several braided green tentacles slipped out from it to hoist the massive metal man aboard. There was barely enough room for both people on the raft. Persephone stood in front, each of her hands pulling a seaweed stalk taught. She seemed to be using them to steer. She leaned back, pressing her body against Cheval's. "Grab on, Darlin'. Don't want you falling off and sinking. I imagine we got enough people to fish out of the bay as it is." The seaweed stalks flailed around at the edges of the raft, dragging it across the surface of the bay, like the cilia of a bacterium swimming through its host's bloodstream.

 

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GM

 

The hull markings identified the sinking, burning bulk carrier ship as the Elizabeth Dane. She was over six-hundred feet long and, fully loaded as she currently was, she weighed in at over fifty-thousand tons. The air around the ship was filled with a suffocating heat. It was surrounded on all sides by a field of burning oil, floating on top of the water around it like black algae. The explosion had punched a hole in the left side of the hull big enough for a person to walk through. The ragged edges of the hole were still burning, so brightly it hurt to look at them. Chunks of molten metal were still dripping off and falling into the water, which boiled around them as they continued to burn while plummeting into the depths of the bay. The explosion might have involved some incendiary substance like magnesium or phosphorous, or it might have been the result of metahuman abilities. But not supernatural ones. Betsy couldn't see any traces of of that. And whatever caused it, it couldn't have been anything the ship was carrying, because it was obvious from the way the metal was bent inward that the explosion came from outside.

 

Since the hole in the hull sat right on the water line, the Elizabeth Dane was taking on water, and fast. The ship was already tilted to the left. Numerous straps securing the stacks of massive metal shipping containers to the top deck had already snapped in half, sending several containers sliding around the deck and a couple of them into the water. Several pallets and crates, some of them also on fire, had also tumbled out from the lower deck exposed by the hole in the hull, where flames and unsecured cargo continued to run rampant. There were bodies in the water too, some moving, some not, some at the surface and some below. Even above the roars of the ocean and the flames and the grinding of metal on metal, the screams of the crew could be heard. Above decks and below, some men were incapacitated, some were trapped, and others were running around trying to aid them, to prevent more accidents, or to right the ship. Debris and unsecured cargo was now blocking several portals and passages, severely limiting movement around the ship.

 

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As the police crew brought their boat around to start rescuing those they could from the water, Woodsman considered for just a moment before he loaded his crossbow. A long, long-forgotten lesson boiled up in the back of his mind, from a time when he'd been learning things even before Claremont. 

 

You can't actually put a fire out with cold - there are chemicals that burn even in absolute zero. The deoxygenating agent does have a cryokinetic effect - but that's purely coincidental. There were things in the Forest Primeval that liked to cook their own meat - and had the power to do it, too. Unless you smoked 'em out. 

 

He fired a bolt first into the water; targeting a bit of floating debris so the crystals inside the bolt would break. When the chemicals inside hit the air they had a catalytic effect on the ocean water, rapidly transforming the floating sea of burning chemicals into something not particularly palatable but definitely not on fire. "Make you sure you get 'em out,"
 he growled to the harbor cops as he pointed to the blue liquid now floating on top of the water. "Bad for lungs." 

 

He considered a moment, then fired another bolt into the burning maw of the ship, nodding as the fire there began to flicker and die. Still not gonna touch it for a minute. 

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"Mesi," Marcus respond as he held on tight to Camellia. She made them move fast. Part of him wanted to change, to shift into his armor, but it might cause her raft to sink. No, he would have to wait for the right time, once they were closer.

 

Everything was a mess. People in the water. Fire, on both the ship and the sea. He could see other heroes, the Woodsman trying to put out the fire. Who even knew what state the people on the ship were in? And the way it was taking on water, with the hole, that couldn't be helping. Of everyone he could see here, he was probably the most uniquely suited for taking care of that. "When we closer, I'm going to transform and leap to the ship, try to close the hole. I'll do my best not to topple the raft, but I can't promise you anything." He was strong, but, well, also heavy

 

Finally approaching, he let go of Persephone and stood up. He looked down quickly and offered a "Bòn chans", before he called out, as if he was calling out to the gods themselves. "I am iron! I am covered with iron!" The change was instant, as he grew, and then leapt towards the ship. He couldn't even look behind to see how Camellia was doing, cursing himself for having no other options.

 

Hitting the hole in the ship, he quickly came to a stop. Everyone aboard the ship might have felt the impact, but he didn't have time to deal with that right now. Turning back, started reaching broken bits and pieces of the ship. He could see the heat coming off them, but he felt nothing as he went to work, pulling them back into place, doing all he could to close the hole before the ship took on even more water.

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The Immutable Betsy Brooks

Zipping through the water Betsy had a chance to consider how best to help out with the rescue. She was happy to see the others were both here and helping those in the water so with a friendly wave she made her way to the hull of the ship. Pulling alongside she grabbed some of the chains hanging down to help pull herself up the side of the ship and onto the deck, thankful that she’d inherited some of her fathers strength along with a touch of the red thirst.

 

Unfortunately she hadn’t inherited any of her speed and despite what she might have though walking whilst drunk wasn’t the same as a rolling deck and she stumbled between all the detritus tumbling about. Though nothing was harmed but her bruised ego and that was nothing compared to helping those trapped.

 

Coming across a few of those trapped, the tang of blood in the air helped her find them, she braced herself the best she could and lifted the container pinning them all down.

“I have a boat over the side there, best get moving before I have to drop this f***ing heavy box.”

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Sagrado Corazon arrived moments after Cheval lept from Persephone's raft of seaweed.  He lightly stepped from the surface of the water to join her as he took in the destruction raging around them even as the heroes sprung into action.  "Can you get us in there?"  He asked pointing to the clear side where Woodsman had extinguished the flames moments before.  "We've got to get those people out of the water."  

 

The young saint tilted his head as if listening to a far off sound and nodded silently to himself as the plant controller maneuvered them into position.  His form was suffused with a light golden glow a crown of sunlight glinting over his head.  The wounded hauled into the nearby boats by Persephone or the other rescuers gasped as one as a pulse of light shimmered off the young man at her side.  The bleeding stanched and the wounded fell then into a peaceful rest, hurt perhaps, but stable.

 

Corazon gaped up at the hole Cheval was closing and shook his head, "What could do this." 

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Persephone

 

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"When we closer, I'm going to transform and leap to the ship, try to close the hole. I'll do my best not to topple the raft, but I can't promise you anything."

 

"You do what you need to do, Sugar Plum. She'll hold."

 

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Cheval looked down quickly and offered a "Bòn chans", before he called out, as if he was calling out to the gods themselves. "I am iron! I am covered with iron!" The change was instant, as he grew, and then leapt towards the ship.

 

"Toi aussi!" the green woman shouted after the metal man. She chuckled when the young saint climbed aboard her improvised seaweed raft the moment Cheval vacated it. "Waste not, want not. Hey there, Guapito, welcome aboard."

 

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"Can you get us in there? We've got to get those people out of the water."

 

Persephone's smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "We'll get there. We're singin' from the same hymnal." She released her grip on the kelp-fronds she had been using to steer the raft, and began a series of fluid gestures in the air around her. In response, bloated ropes of seaweed sprang up from the water and lashed back down again, probing the patches of oil around the ship that had been burning until The Woodsman's cryo-bolts neutralized the chemical reaction. The seaweed ropes wrapped around the floating bodies like octopus tentacles, lifted them out of the water, and deposited them into what little empty space could be found on the two motorboats Betsy and The Woodsman had commandeered. She was about to start growing medicinal flowers from her own flesh when the halo appeared around Sagrado Corazón and the sailors' wounds started knitting themselves closed. "Now THAT's teamwork. Great job, Corazón."

 

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 GM

 

While the assembled heroes rescued the Elizabeth Dane and her crew, they could see a handful of new ships speeding into the bay, directly toward them. A quick glance through one of the several pairs of binoculars aboard the little fleet the heroes had cobbled together revealed them to be a Coast Guard coastal patrol cutter, less than one-seventh the size of the Elizabeth Dane, with hull markings identifying it as the Disco Volante. Two boats less than half its size followed a few hundred feet behind.

 

When the Disco Volante was a little over a quarter of a mile away from the Elizabeth Dane, lightning seemed to strike again. There was a flash of light as bright as the Sun, a thunderous *BOOM*, and the ship exploded, consumed in a gigantic ball of fire.

Spoiler

A glistening metal sphere about five feet in diameter jumped out of the water toward the nose of the ship, and the ship exploded on impact.

The two smaller boats that had been following it broke off to either side as they gradually came to a stop. After a few moments, they turned around and sped back out toward the open ocean.

 

The radios on the two commandeered motorboats and on the Elizabeth Dane, the radios on every boat in the bay, every radio in the city began broadcasting a repeating message from a deep, echoing voice which sounded electronically altered. "VIBORA BAY NOW BELONGS TO THE DREADNAUT. ANY VEHICLE ATTEMPTING TO ENTER OR LEAVE THE BAY WILL BE DESTROYED. I WILL RELINQUISH CONTROL OF THE BAY IN EXCHANGE FOR A RANSOM OF ONE HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS PAID TO THE FOLLOWING CRYPT0CA$H ACCOUNT: 3FZBGI29CPJQ2GJDWV8EYHUJJNKLTKTZC5. VIBORA BAY NOW BELONGS TO THE DREADNAUT. ANY VEHICLE ATTEMPTING TO ENTER OR LEAVE THE BAY WILL BE DESTROY-"

 

Another message was broadcast on a different frequency, less far-reaching than the Dreadnaut's, confirming the loss of the Disco Volante and all ten of its crew members. The Dreadnaut now appeared to be not just an extortionist, but a mass-murderer.

 

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"Bomb," opined Woodsman from behind Sagrado Corazon, having directed the police boat that way while picking up survivors. "Look at the-" He was about to explain when suddenly the terrorists attacking the bay sent the message for them. He stood on the deck of the police boat and flinched, just a little bit, as the Coast Guard ship exploded. He gripped the railing and let a litany of curses play through his head in the second or two it took him to realize how they'd all been suckered by the mass-murderer on the radio. 

 

"What the hell is cryptocash?" he muttered audibly, realizing too late that perhaps it was one of the many Earth-Prime things he still hadn't quite figured out. 

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For once Sagrado Corazon was feeling like he had a handle on this whole heroism thing, they worked well together despite the differences, their goals aligned to the common good.  With the coastguard inbound they just might pull this off without loss of life despite the grievous damage the Elizabeth Dane had suffered.  It wasn't to last.

 

"NO!"  the young hero boomed as the Disco Volante was torn asunder.  "No..."  he stammered more quietly and shook his head to clear the image seared in his memory.  "Not a bomb, a mine, or torpedo or something."  he corrected and looked to the others, "Did you see it?  The silver ball?"  

 

Glaring daggers at the radio as it broadcast it's extortion he set his jaw firmly as he answered the Woodsmans question, "Untraceable money, favorite new toy of technocrats, hackers, cartels, and pedophiles." 

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The Immutable Betsy Brooks

Making sure that those she’d rescued were safe, and after quickly checking for other survivors she jumped back into the speed boat to reach the others. Gently pulling alongside the other Betsy reacted in her normal reserved manner.

 

So these stupid wankers are trying to pull a big con on the city, so we’re going to f*** them up right?”

 

Thinking for a moment she also added.

 

I assume at least some of you saw the silver globe thing right? And that’s got to be a clue to something right?”

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Persephone

 

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"What the hell is cryptocash?"

 

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"Untraceable money, favorite new toy of technocrats, hackers, cartels, and pedophiles."

 

"Charming. I wonder why that's even legal."

 

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So these stupid wankers are trying to pull a big con on the city, so we’re going to f*** them up right?”

 

"I don't know about...THAT...whatever he's done, he's still a human being. He still has rights, God-given AND under the law. But we are about to make life quite a bit less pleasant on his end, that's for sure."

 

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"Did you see it?  The silver ball?"

 

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I assume at least some of you saw the silver globe thing right? And that’s got to be a clue to something right?”

 

"I'm sorry, 'globe thing'? What are you two talking about? All I saw was, the ship was there one moment, and the next...there was nothing. Just fire." Persephone closed her eyes, bowed her head, and crossed herself. Then she pointed to the radio on the police boat. "I'm sure everybody already got the message, but just in case, y'all should put the word out. There's a lot of boats still in the water on our end, and it looks like they need to stay in the water for now. But it also looks like they can't risk moving around, not blindly anyway, not while there's apparently mines or torpedoes or something in the water. In the meantime, that ship," she pointed up at the Elizabeth Dane, "still isn't safe, not even with Woodsman putting out the fires and Cheval closing the hole, not with it leaning over like that. We need to finish getting everybody off. And it looks like we need somewhere else to put them..."

 

She put her hands out in front of her, closed her eyes, and slowly raised her arms up over her head. An entire forest of seaweed erupted from the water and knit itself together tightly, forming a much larger version of the improvised raft she'd used to get out into the middle of the bay in the first place. "I know it may look flimsy, but it'll hold."

 

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CHEVAL

 

He did it. He stopped the ship from sinking. So far, so good. Miss Brooks was there, helping people escape, leaving Marcus to continue up ahead on the ship. Figure out what else was going on, how many people were still trapped elsewhere. He made it to the deck just in time to see the silver objects colliding with the coast guard's vessel. 

 

"God!" The devastation! The ship was destroyed instantly. This wasn't an accident, this was an attack. Someone was under the water, someone was doing this. But why?

 

His unspoken question was soon answered, with a radio aboard the Elizabeth Dane picking up the broadcast. A ransom? These people were killing people for money? No, he could not let that stand. He would not let that stand, but he couldn't just leave any survivors on the ship on their own... but perhaps he had another choice. The silver ball came from under the water. Was whatever it was coming from down there? From this Dreadnaut

 

He could see the others gathering. Good, but they still needed to clear the ship. And protect everyone that had gotten off it from another attack.

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GM

 

Over the next few minutes, the shoreline descended into chaos as bystanders fought both to get away from the bay and to get a closer look. Emergency vehicles and black S.U.V.s gradually accumulated along the waterfront, their occupants managing the crowds as best they could.

 

With the ship no longer on fire or in imminent danger of sinking, the captain of the Elizabeth Dane had no intention of leaving her, and his remaining crew, the ones who were still conscious and could still stand upright, followed his lead. They insisted on staying behind to repair water pumps and oil leaks, and to recover what cargo they could that had gone overboard while the hull was breached. The situation was still fraught with peril, but the crew's livelihoods were at stake. "We can just drop anchor until the Coast Guard is done sweeping the mines." If they were going to leave, they would take some serious convincing.

 

Having no first aid to administer thanks to Sagrado Corazon's healing powers, and no floating bodies to retrieve, the two boat patrol cops spent most of their time on their radio. Eventually, they held it out toward the assembled heroes. "The mayor wants to talk to the Defenders."

 

Even over the scratchy, static-ridden radio, Richenda Barker's voice was instantly familiar. "We're getting a lot of conflicting reports, but right now you're the only eyes and ears we have on the ground, so we need you to help us separate the signal from the noise. I can tell you on our end, Tallahassee and Washington are both taking this seriously as an act of domestic terrorism. The governor and Cahill's office have already been in touch. Every F.B.I. and Homeland Security agent in Florida is on their way here, along with half the agents in Georgia and Alabama. It'll take them a while to get here, but when they do, they're going to take the city apart looking for the Dreadnaut and any accomplices he might have. I'd like to have this whole thing resolved before then, but I know there's only so much even you all can do. The Navy is dispatching a mine sweeper, but it'll be a while before they get here either. And after the loss of the Disco Volante, the Coast Guard refuses to send in any more ships until they do. But they're setting up a perimeter at the mouth of the bay, and they're stripping down a chopper right now and loading it up with as many sonar buoys as it'll carry."

 

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