Operation Wolfe Cub: A Chilling Historical Thriller (THE TIME TO TELL Book 1) by H.C. Wells Page A
Authors: H.C. Wells
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myself any more, I’d swear the devil was riding in on it.”
“Wild comments you have…it’s called ‘sixth sense.’ Anyway, you don’t have it.”
“If I don’t have it, nobody’s got it…why don’t you get yourself on your submarine controls and get us up to see the light of day.”
US-1 positioned himself in his chair more appropriately and began switching toggles and turning knobs. “Okay—sounds fine with me. Switch on a few lights and—okay, got it.A switch or two here and there and, got it…sequence is set. Buoyancy control next…almost done…we are headed up to see the surface right about…nowww. Stealth propulsion good…you ready, Blondie?”
“Well yes, that’s what I was saying.”
“Stand by for your part when we get there. Preparing stationary ascent.”
“How far do we have? How deep are we now?”
“Just about seven fathoms to go, looks like.”
US-2 grabbed his pack of cigarettes, lit one, and cocked back in his chair, thinking. Mildly amused, he blew his first thin stream of smoke and watched it curl up across the glass of the cockpit. “Looks like it’s sunny up there to me.”
“What? How can you see? Looks like smoke and fire.”
US-2 took another drag from his cigarette. “There’s no fire up there. What are you talking about?”
“Your cigarette fire.”
“Oh, does it bother you?”
“Not yet.” US-1 leaned over to switch on the fans, dissipating the smoke throughout the cockpit.
Soon, the sunlight’s rays became overwhelming. The splendor of sparkles raised smiles across their faces as colorful prisms of light were cast about. Right at the surface they crested into the brightest point, making it difficult for them to adjust their eyes.
When the vessel broke onto the surface, she did so quickly, leaving nothing more than gleaming streams of water trickling down her flat, jet-black surface.
The day was grand. Even last night’s wind was gone. In fact, almost all of the morning’s beginnings were cheerful, from the clear blue ocean to the silver-lined clouds. Furthermore, the good day looked like it was there to stay.
Both of them were thinking about Doc who should have been on deck. Presumably he was still sleeping. They seemed not to care after a while, for they were too busy glancingaround at the prevailing sense of goodness that surrounded them.
US-2 rocked back in pure pleasure as he felt the sealskin of his seat. While he played with a puff of smoke, he tried hard not to speak his mind, but then he grinned. “Are we still on stealth propulsion?”
“Yes, of course we are, why?”
US-2 quickly buckled in his safety harnesses. “I thought so…shut it down. We need to pick up some real time.”
“What?”
“Yes, look out there. The ocean is flat, can’t you tell? Strap yourself in.”
US-1 grinned then buckled himself in too. “I thought you’d never ask…okay then…buoyancy normal…stealth propulsion now off…let’s see about your job now.” He then leaned back in his chair with his hands folded. Before he got too comfortable, he looked over his shoulder. “You don’t suppose Doc is awake do you? Maybe we shouldn’t—I mean, you know. Don’t get too crazy, you might disturb him.”
US-2 saw his comrade chickening out all too quickly as he put all of his controls into motion. On a whim, he wiggled his cigarette to the side of his mouth as if he was an old pro-operator in the brand-new prototype ship of theirs. While scratching the whiskers of his day-old beard, he obliged his comrade briefly. “
Naaaa
. He’ll sleep through it…maybe he needs our alarm clock. Don’t you think?”
US-1 contemplated the remark, then raised both his eyebrows. “A wake-up call, you mean? We might not find him hiding anything beneath our feet anymore.”
That was all that US-2 wanted to hear. At least for now, the audacious mischief-maker returned his gesture with more pointless overtures and then took his cigarette out of his mouth. He
“Wild comments you have…it’s called ‘sixth sense.’ Anyway, you don’t have it.”
“If I don’t have it, nobody’s got it…why don’t you get yourself on your submarine controls and get us up to see the light of day.”
US-1 positioned himself in his chair more appropriately and began switching toggles and turning knobs. “Okay—sounds fine with me. Switch on a few lights and—okay, got it.A switch or two here and there and, got it…sequence is set. Buoyancy control next…almost done…we are headed up to see the surface right about…nowww. Stealth propulsion good…you ready, Blondie?”
“Well yes, that’s what I was saying.”
“Stand by for your part when we get there. Preparing stationary ascent.”
“How far do we have? How deep are we now?”
“Just about seven fathoms to go, looks like.”
US-2 grabbed his pack of cigarettes, lit one, and cocked back in his chair, thinking. Mildly amused, he blew his first thin stream of smoke and watched it curl up across the glass of the cockpit. “Looks like it’s sunny up there to me.”
“What? How can you see? Looks like smoke and fire.”
US-2 took another drag from his cigarette. “There’s no fire up there. What are you talking about?”
“Your cigarette fire.”
“Oh, does it bother you?”
“Not yet.” US-1 leaned over to switch on the fans, dissipating the smoke throughout the cockpit.
Soon, the sunlight’s rays became overwhelming. The splendor of sparkles raised smiles across their faces as colorful prisms of light were cast about. Right at the surface they crested into the brightest point, making it difficult for them to adjust their eyes.
When the vessel broke onto the surface, she did so quickly, leaving nothing more than gleaming streams of water trickling down her flat, jet-black surface.
The day was grand. Even last night’s wind was gone. In fact, almost all of the morning’s beginnings were cheerful, from the clear blue ocean to the silver-lined clouds. Furthermore, the good day looked like it was there to stay.
Both of them were thinking about Doc who should have been on deck. Presumably he was still sleeping. They seemed not to care after a while, for they were too busy glancingaround at the prevailing sense of goodness that surrounded them.
US-2 rocked back in pure pleasure as he felt the sealskin of his seat. While he played with a puff of smoke, he tried hard not to speak his mind, but then he grinned. “Are we still on stealth propulsion?”
“Yes, of course we are, why?”
US-2 quickly buckled in his safety harnesses. “I thought so…shut it down. We need to pick up some real time.”
“What?”
“Yes, look out there. The ocean is flat, can’t you tell? Strap yourself in.”
US-1 grinned then buckled himself in too. “I thought you’d never ask…okay then…buoyancy normal…stealth propulsion now off…let’s see about your job now.” He then leaned back in his chair with his hands folded. Before he got too comfortable, he looked over his shoulder. “You don’t suppose Doc is awake do you? Maybe we shouldn’t—I mean, you know. Don’t get too crazy, you might disturb him.”
US-2 saw his comrade chickening out all too quickly as he put all of his controls into motion. On a whim, he wiggled his cigarette to the side of his mouth as if he was an old pro-operator in the brand-new prototype ship of theirs. While scratching the whiskers of his day-old beard, he obliged his comrade briefly. “
Naaaa
. He’ll sleep through it…maybe he needs our alarm clock. Don’t you think?”
US-1 contemplated the remark, then raised both his eyebrows. “A wake-up call, you mean? We might not find him hiding anything beneath our feet anymore.”
That was all that US-2 wanted to hear. At least for now, the audacious mischief-maker returned his gesture with more pointless overtures and then took his cigarette out of his mouth. He
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