THE ADMIRAL GLANCED at the clock. The Captain entered and laid the manual down on the desk. “Right on time.” He leaned a little sidewise and tried to peer around the captain. “Where’s your diving detail?” “I’m the diving detail,” said Crane. From the settle, Commander Emery chuckled quietly, “Go ahead, Nelse. Flip. I promised you you would.” Nelson’s eyes grew dangerous. “I told you I wanted a wire communications man and a man who could muscle the armored cable and—” “I completed a wire communications briefing on my last furlough, said Crane. “I can dive, I can handle an airsaw, and anyway, I think it’s my job.” “You’ll tell off someone else, mister. The ship can’t afford—” “We’re a little short on frogmen, Admiral.” “There’s Gleason and Smith—”
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