"By the sea by the beautiful sea"~ Part 2 for PicFic Tuesday 6/17

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Link to part 1: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/631476.html

Having arrived at the coordinates of the wreck site of the U.S.S. San Diego, Illya embarked on his recreational dive with a loud splash as he hit the water. It was rare that he had occasion to do something just for fun and at first he was invigorated by it.

He paddled down into the depths, moving slowly as he had a way to go.  The water conditions were a bit cloudy, making him a little concerned for the underwater residents Walter “The Commodore” Lawson, the captain of his charter had so pointedly warned him about.  Given there had been deaths related to recreational dives at the San Diego; Illya had a momentary doubt as to the wisdom of this undertaking.

Still, as he had reminded the Commodore, he now reminded himself; he was an experienced diver and could handle pretty much anything, but just as a precaution he’d strapped a rather large serrated knife to his dive belt.

As he swam lower, there were a few silvery fish that came into view now and then, and even a sea turtle crossed the Russian’s path, but luckily no sharks were within immediate view.  Not that they couldn’t appear within the blink of an eye; the apex predator of the seas...especially blue sharks could move amazingly fast once they sensed blood in the water.

All the more reason to be careful for Illya not to cut himself once inside the wreck.

As usual Kuryakin had read up on the U.S.S.San Diego before deciding to make his little diving expedition into the depths of the inlet. This was a piece of American history from the time of World War I and it had piqued the Russian’s curiosity. He had been unaware that a naval vessel had been sunk by their enemy so close to American shores in recent history.

On July 19th in the year 1918 at 11:05 in the morning, the crew felt a thud to the port side of the engine room, though it was those working that area who quickly felt the effects of the explosion from a torpedo that had just struck the San Diego. Within twenty minutes, the ship slowly rolled over and was gone along with six members of her crew. Astoundingly the rest of the ships personnel were able to abandon ship and get safely away. Historically a German sub designated U-156 was credited with the sinking of the American ship and after laying mines around the it, U-156 too was sunk on her return voyage after encountering a minefield.

Illya finally reached the site of the wreck, finding it lying upside down. He was somewhat surprised the remains of the ship were still here after all this time in the briny deep, given metal corrodes in salt water.

The superstructure of the massive armor belt along with the hull and it’s contents looked to have been crushed into the sandy bottom. In it’s heyday The ship weighed about 15,000 tons fully outfitted and loaded for duty. Two eighteen foot diameter propellers were driven by two steam powered engines. The four cylinder engines were supplied steam by sixteen boilers.

The remains of the San Diego however,  were listing to the port side, allowing more light on the lighter starboard side as it’s six inch guns had been removed prior to the voyage to New York from Portsmouth, New Hampshire just before it was sunk.

The port side of the ship was referred to as 'the dark side' because of the shadow in which resided as well as the sand line being higher on this side because of the list. The stern had collapsed, but the propeller shafts; each the diameter of 55 gallon drums, protruded outwards into the water at the seventy foot mark. The propellers had been recently removed but one  of them had somehow been lost while on its way to Staten Island.

A bilge keel on each side on the hull ran a good length of the ship and  were attached to give the ship stability. These intern gave divers a line of reference for navigating the wreck. Along 'the light side', the 3-inch guns could still be found sticking out from their mounts in the hull.

It was the inside of the wreck that Illya wanted to see and the many holes in the hull  created by the ravages of time and  saltwater gave him access to investigate the dark interior.

The inside didn’t resemble a ship, but rather a junkyard of collapsed machinery, bulkheads, and ship stores. As hallway and rooms ranging in different sizes could quickly become clouded by silt, making visibility nearly impossible...here it was where the danger began and where most of the fatalities had occurred.

As he swam forward, using his underwater flashlight to study his surroundings Illya suddenly felt as though he had company.  The instant thought that a shark was behind him made his heart pound and as he slowly turned, but instead there were a pair of divers  behind him, and just as suddenly one of them fired a speargun, sending a razor-sharp barb directly into the Russian’s thigh.

.

“Say Napoleon, “ Frankie approached the agent, blocking the sun with his body and enabling Solo to see him standing above him.”

“Hello Frankie,” Napoleon still shielded his eyes with his hand. “You kids ready for lunch?”

“We won’t hold you to that...but we are going to Romans anyway and Annette and me thought we’d ask you to come with us.”

Napoleon stood, brushing off some sand. “Hey a deal is a deal, I offered to buy you kids lunch and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Okay you’re the boss,” Frankie agreed, giving in rather quickly.

Solo gathered up his things, and headed off with Annette, Frankie and Bonehead. The other younger kids didn’t want to eat and remained behind to enjoy the water and to keep an eye on the other’s surf boards.

Frankie led the way to the pizzeria, but before entering Napoleon excused himself, saying he had to make that phone call to check on his friend. Like Superman, he ducked into a nearby telephone booth, and picking up the black receiver, he pretended to use it while putting together his communicator.

“Open Channel F-Kuryakin.” He waited a few seconds.” Hello, Illya are you there?”

Napoleon looked at his watch, noting that it was not quite noon, though he’d expected his partner to have been done with his dive by now.

He suddenly had a niggling feeling that something was wrong, and in the case of the Russian that feeling was usually right.

He walked into the restaurant and stopped in his tracks; a broad smile suddenly appearing on his lips, as what he saw momentarily made him forget about his partner.  The dining area was set up cafeteria style and was virtually identical to the Commissary at headquarters, right down to the blue molded plastic chairs.

He looked at the man behind the counter and grinned. It was Gino Federici the former chef at U.N.C.L.E. New York, with the man having retired only a year ago; sadly leaving his replacement nicknamed “Cookie” and his army style cooking to bring gastronomic distress to the employees at headquarters.

“Hey you serve any Russian food here?” Napoleon called out.

The man making the pizza behind the counter looked up.

“Well as I live and breathe, Mr. Solo. Hey how are ya?” The silver-haired Gino laughed.

Napoleon reached across the counter, shaking the man’s hand in greeting. “I thought you retired and headed down to the islands? What gives?”

“I am retired. This is my brother Roman’s place and I’m just pinch hittin’ for him while he’s havin’ surgery done on his knee. He’s gonna be laid up for a bit so I came back from Jamaica to give him a hand. You still workin’….there?”

“Until the day I die,”Solo chuckled,” or if I hit retirement age, whichever comes first.”

“Hey from your mouth to God’s ears Mr. Solo. So what can I get for yous?

“Well I guess I should order…”

“No Napoleon, we already ordered a pizza and some drinks,” Annette called.

“What’ll ya have to drink then Mr. Solo?” Gino asked.

“Oh I’ll take a Tab, thanks.”

After getting his drink Napoleon joined the kids at the table they’d staked out.

“So everything all right with your friend Napoleon?” Frankie asked.

“I’m not sure as I wasn’t able to get hold of him. I would have thought he was done with the dive by now.”

“Tell you what, let me call my Aunt Grace to see if Uncle Walter got back from the charter. He usually goes straight home after he’s done.”

The pizza arrived and they were all eating when a few minutes later Frankie returned, looking concerned as well.

“Wow this pizza is really gnarly, ”Bonehead remarked as he bit into his slice oozing with hot melted cheese.

“Frankie what’s wrong?” Annette looked up, seeing her boyfriend’s eyes now filled with concern.

“My Aunt said my Uncle hasn’t come home yet and she’s getting pretty worried about him.”

Napoleon shook his head as Frankie’s pronouncement was a definite red flag. Taking a last bite from his slice of pizza and gulping down his soda, he stood.

“Look, kids I’m sorry but I have to go find my friend.”

“No way you’re leaving us Napoleon. If your friend is missing then there’s a good chance my Uncle Walter is with him and they both may be well... Uncle Walter would never leave customer who was in trouble...if that’s what’s happened.”

“And that holds very true for my friend as well,” Napoleon said as he pushed in his blue chair.

Solo handed some money to Gino with a quick apology for taking off but Federici understood these things all too well.

“Good luck Mr. Solo,” he called, but Napoleon and the kids were already out the door...

Link to chapter 3, the conclusion: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/644906.html