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"Won't he hear us?"
"Not if we stay in his baffles, Seaman Beaumont, not if we stay in his baffles. Come in behind his propellors and he's deaf as a post!"
"What's going on, Jonesy?"
"Russian captains sometimes turn suddenly to see if anyone's behind 'em. We call it a Ca-razy Ivan. All you can do is go dead, shut everything down, make like a hole in the water."
"So what's the catch?"
"Catch is, boat this big doesn't exactly stop on a dime. If we're too close, we can drift right into the back of him."
"Sir, we have a level-one radiation leak on all compartments. Simply changing the air won't do it. We have to get the men off. Sir, we have been sabotaged."
"Who said anything about sabotage?"
"Captain!"
"What are you talking about? Check the gear."
"Running diagnostics now, Captain."
WHIRR. CLICK CLICK.
"Sonar's working, Captain. There he was, 4000 yards off the bow, and for a second there, I thought I heard..."
"Heard what?"
"I thought I heard singing, sir."
"Singing?"
"Yes, sir."
"Gunfire?!"
"That's what it sounded like, sir."
"Estimated range, 3000 yards, closing awfully fast."
"What the hell happened?"
"Come on. This is no longer a research project."
"When I was twelve, I helped my daddy build a bomb shelter in our basement because some fool parked a dozen warheads 90 miles off the coast of Florida. This thing could park a couple hundred warheads off of Washington and New York and no one would know a thing about it until it was all over."
"You know, I've seen me a mermaid once. I even seen a shark eat a octopus. But I never seen no phantom Russian submarine."
"You son of a bitch! You-hoo-hoo son of a bitch!"
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Thanks again, Mr Portridge.