Read Day by Day Armageddon: Shattered Hourglass for Free Online

sail.
    Kil and Saien followed, one saying to the other under his breath, “When in Rome.”
    They made their way what seemed like a good distance, down the ladder, through the hatch, and into the belly of the boat. They descended down into the control area of the submarine, the light from the sky fading and the red internal lighting of the submarine intensifying. The four operators disappeared aft into the complex internal organs of the submarine, leaving Kil and Saien standing on the bridge among strangers.
    A man wearing wrinkled blue coveralls, tennis shoes, and a Navy ball cap approached, extending his hand to one of the men. ”I’m Captain Larsen, commanding officer of the USS Virginia .”
    One of the new arrivals reached out and firmly gripped Larsen’s hand. “We are—”
    “I know who you are and why you are here,” Larsen interrupted.
    Kil tried hard to hide a reaction before Larsen continued.
    “The admiral transmitted a personal message three days ago. He graciously included information on the team you arrived with, as well as information on you and your friend, Mr. Saien. We’ve heard about you and we’ve heard about the strange goings-on with whatever this Remote Six might be.”
    “Well, I guess the admiral saved me some time,” Kil responded.
    “That he did. Master Chief Rowe will show you to your stateroom,” Larsen said, starting to walk away.
    “Quick question, sir?”
    “Go ahead, Commander.”
    “What’s in China?”
    “We’ll brief you in the SCIF. Be ready for read in at eighteen hundred.”
    “Aye, aye, Captain.”
    •   •   •
    Larsen departed in a hurry, speaking something that Kil couldn’t understand into a brick-shaped radio before disappearing into a tiny adjacent passageway. Master Chief Rowe maneuvered in front of the two, inspecting them with eyes likely calibrated by years at sea. He was a short man, maybe five foot eight, stocky, with a hell of a mustache. I’ve flushed more salt water than you’ve sailed on was a common saying among senior navy sailors. Somehow it seemed to Kil that this maxim might have started with Master Chief Rowe.
    “Well, I’m told that one of you is a commander. It’s probably you,” Rowe said, pointing at Kil. “Do you want a uniform? We have extras, though none of ’em have wings.”
    Kil knew instantly that the master chief had done some homework.
    “I’d appreciate a set of coveralls or two if you can spare them, Master Chief.”
    “No problem, sir. You know my name, who are you?”
    “Kil.”
    “Suit yourself, Commander Kil.”
    Saien laughed, not meaning to.
    “And your name, Ali Baba?” Rowe said to Saien.
    Kil bit his lip.
    “My name is Saien.”
    Rowe looked at them both with critical eyes as if he had both judged and sentenced them on the bridge of the Virginia . “Commander Kilroy and Mr. Saien, welcome aboard Virginia . Follow me.”
    Saien and Kil stayed behind Master Chief Rowe as he navigated the maze of passageways and ladders. Kil was already beginning to notice that time and space were peculiar and fluid things onboard a submarine. He didn’t think the boat had looked this big from the outside. They arrived at their new home. It consisted of canvas tarps thrown up against the bulkheads forming a deformed square with racks for sleeping and footlocker storage.
    “Enjoy the new apartment, guys. It’s a bit drafty, but with some duct tape and zip ties, she’ll fix up nice. I’m the chief of the boat; you can call me COB if you want. Shorter than master chief.”
    Kil nodded at Rowe. “Thanks, COB.”
    “Very good, sir.” Master Chief Rowe bolted away with purpose, screaming something about coveralls and cleaning stations down the passageway.
    Saien and Kil had met under interesting circumstances. Kil learned some time after they met that Saien had tracked him for days, observing him make his way south after surviving a nasty helicopter crash. In the process of tracking him, Saien discovered his