Eight: Deep Waters
Coastguard cutter ‘Stonewall’s’ bow
cut through the ocean’s waves like a knife through
butter. She was an Endurance class ship, built in the
late nineteen-sixties but recently refurbished to be
the pride of the fleet.
the ‘Stonewall’ commanded such duties as
halting drug trafficking or the smuggling of arms or
illegal immigrants. Today, however, she was making a
simple sweep of the local shipping and fishing lanes.
Some unusual activity had been reported, and Captain
Marquand wanted to make sure the rumors were nothing
more than that.
stood on the bridge, his hands clasped behind his back
as he surveyed the calm waters ahead of his ship. “Anything
to report, Mister O’Neill?” He asked of
the officer to his right.
shook his head while leaning forward to peer through
the multiple glass sections of the bridge. “No,
sir. All quiet. No sign of anything out of the ordinary.”
nodded. He’d expected as much. The reports he’d
read had been nothing short of outrageous, but still
he’d felt duty-bound to investigate them anyway.
This was his neck of the woods and he wasn’t about
to take anything for granted. “Very well. Take
us home.” He nodded to his second in command and
then exited the bridge.
sighed, relieved he was alone with the lesser crewmen
again, and began spouting orders to return to port.
He paused as he turned and noticed Kurt Kresnick frowning.
was their eyes and ears on sonar and radar, and if he
had an expression of doubt it likely meant something
was wrong. “What you got, Kresnick?” O’Neill
crewman shook his head. “I’m sure it’s
a glitch, sir. For a moment there, I was reading an
intermittent contact on sonar. It appeared and disappeared
with each new sweep.” Kresnick checked his watch.
He finally had a date arranged with Amy Hopkins and
really didn’t want to spend another night out
at sea instead because of some electronics goof.
inhaled. “What kind of contact?”
grinned. “Well, if you believe this hunk of wires
in front of me, a sub, sir.” He tapped the screen.
“That’s impossible, right? Unless Al-Qaeda
bought themselves some serious hardware and snuck it
in under our satellites.” The crewman laughed.
O’Neill gave in. He was tired and ready for some
shore leave himself. “Log it and let’s go
nodded as his superior began to give orders to turn
the ship around. Finally, he would get his date. He
grinned and then quickly frowned as the blip on his
screen came suddenly again. This time, although he had
no idea why, the blip sent Kresnick cold.
was as if some sixth-sense was telling him this was
no instrument malfunction. He tapped at several keys,
trying to remove the ‘ghost’ image from
his monitor. After all, it had to be some kind of rebounding
blip came again. Its ping echoed through Kresnick’s
earphones so loudly and with such a sinister tone that
he would remember it for the rest of his life. He turned
to O’Neill, desperate to change his earlier evaluation
of the situation, but it was too late.
Kresnick pulled away his earphones and turned in his
seat, the ‘Stonewall’ suddenly lurched in
the water as if its stern had been taken by some giant
creature and shaken.
fell forward, just steadying himself in time on the
com panel. “Report?” He barked as the ship
crewman shook his head. “Something just hit us
in the stern, sir! Engine room confirms we’re
taking on water from two breaches to the hull below
It was Kresnick, all too aware that his earlier joke
may have been at the ship’s expense.
shook his head. “Doubtful. I didn’t feel
any explosions. Are you tracking anything on sonar?”
returned to his screen, a look of horror crossing his
face as he read the impossible. “Sir, two more
trails! They’re heading right for us!”
for impact!” O’Neill had barely said the
words when the torpedoes hit home.
Again, there were no explosions, but still the projectiles
did the damage they were intended to. The ‘Stonewall’
began to list heavily as its rear compartments began
to flood with seawater. “Where’s the captain?”
When no one replied quickly, the officer made a choice.
“Give the order to abandon ship.” He looked
to the communications officer. “Send out a distress
signal and then get off this crate with the others…”
gaped. It was impossible. The ‘Stonewall’
couldn’t be sunk like this- not by some unseen
enemy below the waves. “Terrorists…it has
to be terrorists…” He mumbled under his
breath as he scrambled for the forward deck. “They
probably sabotaged us in the docks…couldn’t
be a sub out there…couldn’t be…”
paused as he clambered from the bridge and realized
half the ship was already under water. There was no
time to climb into a lifeboat or raft. No time to look
for injured or trapped friends. He shook his head, still
not trusting what his eyes had seen onscreen. Then,
knowing he had no choice, Kurt Kresnick dived into the
ocean, leaving at least twenty crewmen behind to their
fate, deep beneath the waves.
he hit the water, Kresnick began to swim frantically
towards the nearest raft. He knew too well if he were
too close to the ‘Stonewall’ when she succumbed
to the sea he would be dragged down with the current
he grabbed an outstretched hand and allowed himself
to be pulled aboard a half empty raft seconds later.
It bobbed in the water, and he realized the motion was
making him abruptly feel nauseous.
flipped over onto his back, panting to quell the sickness,
and it was then that he saw it.
away from its ‘kill’ Kresnick could have
sworn just for one fleeting moment to have seen a periscope
cutting through the sea. It looked wrong somehow- scary
in some bizarre unexplainable way that he couldn’t
put his finger on. At that moment, he didn’t even
inside his heart, Kresnick knew he had just escaped
something far more sinister than a simple sinking or
terrorist attack. He had escaped the wrath of some dark
thing- a thing that’s thirst for death would not
end this day or the next because no ordinary man could
Winchester eased off the Impala’s gas and let
the Chevy glide around a sharp hairpin bend. The car
roared as he tapped the accelerator once he’d
passed the snakelike section, urging the engine back
to life after its brief remission.
smiled at the noise of the V8, singing along loudly
to accompany its purr and the blaring sound from the
radio. “Oh they say that it's over, and it just
had to be oh oh oh…They say that it's o-over,
and you're lost children of the sea, yea…”
Sam scowled at the sound coming from his brother’s
mouth. “Do you have to make that noise? I thought
we had a Banshee in the car…”
'Children of the Sea' is a Black Sabbath classic!”
Dean’s eyes twinkled and he pointed ahead to their
destination. “Besides, I thought you’d appreciate
it considering the location you chose for our next gig.
Or should I say wild goose chase?”
inhaled and his gaze followed his brother’s gesture.
They were about a mile from the small fishing town of
St. Michael’s Bay on the east coast. The town
itself was everything it appeared- just a tiny community
struggling with a dying economy. It was what lay beyond
the bay that had caught Sam’s attention, and it
was that mystery that had brought the brothers here
not a wild goose chase. Trust me.” Sam reached
over and turned the music down just a touch. “Pull
into the marina parking lot over there and I’ll
show you the latest reports. We’ve stumbled on
something pretty unusual here…”
did as he was asked, pulling the Chevy up in an empty
spot that overlooked the whole marina and bay area.
It was a sunny day, and from here they could see beyond
the inlet far out to sea. “Looks pretty normal
to me,” he remarked. “So picture-perfect,
in fact, that I think I feel nauseous just sitting here
looking at the place…”
you’re sea sick as well as air sick?” Sam
retorted, and when Dean mouthed ‘jerk’,
he grinned. “Look, can we just get back to the
nodded. “If we must, Sherlock.” He glanced
over as Sam pulled out their laptop from a holdall on
the rear seat. “And just for the record, I got
over that whole air sickness thing remember?”
did. He just enjoyed still teasing his brother about
it every now and again. Instead of replying now, he
flipped open the silver laptop on his knee and hit several
keys. When a picture of a large coastguard vessel appeared,
he spun the screen around so that Dean could see it.
is, or rather was, the ‘Stonewall.’ She
was one of the coast guard’s largest ships. She
sank just over two weeks ago just a few miles past Teufel
Point. That’s only a stone’s throw from
here.” Sam looked grim as he continued his narrative.
“Smaller fishing boats have been going missing
for about a month in this area, but nothing this big
frowned as he read some of the local newspaper reports,
along with two more official explanations. “Says
here someone saw a submarine. So, what’s the big
deal? The coastguard ship probably hit one of our own
subs, like the incident with the Japanese tanker and
our navy awhile back.”
shook his head. “No way. Read on.” He let
his forefinger trace a path down the screen to yet more
information. “After the crewman reported a periscope
the navy sent a destroyer to the area to qualm panic.
People were so paranoid they were thinking all kinds
of crazy things about a terrorist attack from the sea.
The navy found a great big zilch, not even using satellite
it’s Moby Dick?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows
skywards in his trademark expression of humor and then
shrugged. “I guess your coast guard crewman could
have been seeing things. I mean, what are you suggesting
don’t know, but the crewman didn’t imagine
it. We’re dealing with something new here, though.”
He hit enter and a new screen flickered up. “This
guy saw a submarine too, only it was surfaced and at
read the second page item from the St. Michael’s
Tribune. It was brief, and barely mentioned that a local
fisherman named Tim Walker claimed to have seen a submarine.
From what Dean could tell, the reporter who’d
written the article was pretty skeptical. “This
says Walker is a fisherman.” He looked over to
nodded, understanding his brother’s thoughts even
though he hadn’t spoken them aloud. “Time
to pay Tim a visit…”
Michael’s Bay Marina
Walker hit reverse on the Spindrift’s engine just
at the right moment to force the small charter boat
to glide to its mooring like the gently floating flotsam
it was named after.
boat bumped on the side of the wharf, bobbing in the
water like a cork, and Tim finally cut the throttle
altogether. He jumped down, intending to securely berth
his vessel when he suddenly spotted two men apparently
waiting for him on the edge of the marina.
men wore dark suits, and from their stance he guessed
this was official business. Tim sighed, moored the Spindrift,
and then absent-mindedly ran a hand through the stubble
on his face as he approached the two strangers. They
hardly looked old enough to be intelligence agents,
and yet he had an odd feeling they were here for something
fishier than his boat.
can I do for you gents?” Tim decided to make the
first move, ambling towards the men with a curious expression
on his face. “Something tells me you’re
not here to charter my boat.”
nodded, “You guessed right.” He produced
a fake I.D. which he promptly flashed at the twenty-eight
year old fisherman. “We’re with the Navy
Department. This is my associate, Mike Myers. We’re
here about the incident you reported.”
frowned. He hadn’t actually reported anything-
at least not officially. He’d gotten a little
drunk one night and got way too talkative at a local
bar. He’d never intended to tell anyone about
the submarine because he knew locals would say he was
crazy. Still, it was all out in the open now, and all
he could to was damage control.
mean what was in the local paper? You know, they blew
that thing totally out of proportion…” Mike
Myers? Wasn’t he the dude that killed everyone
in Halloween? Tim kept his thoughts to himself,
but couldn’t help a small smirk at the coincidence
of the names.
you’re saying what you saw had nothing to do with
the recent sinking of a Coast Guard vessel?” Sam
moved forward, feeling awkward in the black suits he
and Dean found themselves wearing all too often lately.
“You do realize one of the crewmen’s statements
included a sighting of a periscope?”
backed up, suddenly wanting to be back on the Spindrift
where he felt secure. “I…I don’t know
anything about that.”
alright,” Sam continued,“We’re not
here to trap you, or trick you. We’re here for
the truth. If there’s a submarine out there sinking
ships we need to stop it.” He glanced over at
smiled slightly at the fisherman, knowing Sam could
talk people into almost anything. “All we ask
is a little of your time. You’re not the only
one to see this thing.”
gestured back to his boat, “I guess you'd better
nodded and the two brothers followed Walker onto the
Spindrift. It was only a small charter boat, but the
main cabin was still adequate enough for their needs-
even if it was a little dark with its glum, practical
took a seat opposite both his guests. He set his hands
on the small table, unsure where to begin.
was a misty night just off Teufel Point. I wasn’t
too far out and my scope was clear. I was about to head
in when suddenly I got a blip right in front of me.
Through the mist I couldn’t see much, but I knew
the damn thing was close. I cut my engines and prayed
I didn’t hit the other ship…except it wasn’t
a ship out there…”
happened?” Sam prompted.
swallowed hard. “I ran forward, expecting to see
a local boat heading in, like me, that had got caught
in the mist, but what I saw was much lower in the water…and
looked up, wanting to see Dean and Sam’s reaction.
When he was satisfied they believed him, he carried
on. “There were voices too, shouting, but none
of it was in English.”
thinking terrorists?” Dean looked to his brother
and was about to mouth ‘wild goose chase’
but Tim’s next words stopped him in his tracks.
I don’t know what I think, but I sure as hell
don’t think terrorists.” Tim hesitated a
second, and then gave in. “The voices were yelling
in German. What’s more, I got a good look at the
sub’s con tower. No way was that baby a modern
nuclear powered ship.” He sighed, confident they
would think he was crazy now. “She was a U-boat,
a genuine diesel powered relic from the past. Trust
me. I grew up on the sea. My dad was ex-navy.”
screwed up his face in disbelief. He’d dealt with
some pretty weird cases, but never any non-living object
that big manifesting itself- and complete with a crew
by the sounds of things. “A U-boat? Are you sure?”
He queried. “I mean, even if this thing is out
there, why would it be in U.S. waters?”
was there. I know it sounds ridiculous, and maybe the
terrorist plot idea is more plausible, but it’s
not the truth. It was a German submarine that sank your
Coast Guard cutter.”
took a nearby pen and paper and hastily wrote down a
number. “That’s from her con tower. If you’re
really naval intelligence, you should be able to check
it out.” He looked suspiciously at the two brothers.
check into it.” Sam took the note and quickly
slid it into his top pocket.
the mean time,” Dean continued, setting his eyes
on Tim until the young skipper squirmed uncomfortably,
“How about you take us out to where you saw the
you kidding?” Tim pushed on the table, forcing
his chair back so he could hastily stand up. It was
obvious he was more than scared. “I’m not
going back out there. That thing has been taking out
boats for over a month. I already got too close for
comfort that night.”
didn’t give in. He reached inside his jacket and
pulled out a wallet full of notes. He’d won the
money at cards two nights previous and hated to waste
it, but sometimes you couldn’t bribe people with
a fake MasterCard. People tended to bend more easily
if they saw the true color of money. “We’ll
pay you double the rate,” he offered flatly, “Plus
any other expenses incurred…”
eyes widened in surprise. It wasn’t often Dean
gave up cash so easily, and that meant this case had
more than piqued his interest. “You’d be
doing us and St. Michael’s Bay a great service,”
he backed up his brother.
hesitated. He was no coward, and he desperately needed
the money- the charter boat business was in serious
decline here, but still, the submarine troubled him.
All he could think of was the deathly black conning
tower and the phantom shadows running across the deck-plates
through the mist. Their voices had resonated through
the milky-white miasma like eerie echoes from the past,
and he doubted he could ever erase the memory. They
were dead men’s voices, and he knew it.
take you out off Teufel Point, but if we see nothing,
we come right back. I’m not being a sitting duck
out there all night while you look for the impossible…”
nodded, keeping hold of his cash. “Good enough,
but you don’t get paid till we return. Call it
a little insurance. We’ll meet you back here,”
he glanced at his watch, “in say, two hours?”
agreed, although he was already wishing he hadn’t
taken the two suits up on their offer.
Michael’s Bay Motel
pushed open the room door and quickly loosened his tie.
If there was one thing he hated it was ‘monkey
you trust Captain Ahab back there?” He tugged
at the tie more until it was free of his neck and then
flung it on the nearby bed.
I think so. He seemed genuinely scared when we asked
him to go back out there.” Sam took a seat on
the edge of the bed near Dean’s discarded tie
and pulled out the piece of paper Tim had handed him.
“I’m not sure how we’re supposed to
find this submarine, though. I mean, it could be for
real. I know our forces sell off old ships and such
to other countries. Maybe Germany did?”
you don’t think that’s the case here, do
you, Sammy? You think this thing is one freakin’
giant tin can full of spooks, right?” Dean’s
jacket came off next, landing right next to the tie.
I think we’re dealing with a water bound version
of Cyrus Dorian’s truck,” Sam admitted.
“Right now, though, I have to prove it before
we can make a move.”
agreed. “Right, because you’re not sticking
my ass on the line again like you did that night!”
The elder brother frowned and headed for their room’s
rather small shower, muttering to himself. “Maybe
get rid of it my ass...I mean, c'mon, the thought never
occured to you?"
watched Dean exit the room and smiled. He shook his
head in amusement as he heard the shower kick in and
his brother began to sing rock songs increasingly louder
over the hiss of the water. It was a common ritual,
and one Sam still hadn’t got used to. Maybe one
day he would buy ear plugs- or a gag. Right now, though,
it was back to the case.
slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out his cell
phone. He may not be a real naval intelligence officer,
but that didn’t mean he didn’t have connections.
Harve Gant was a buddy of their dad’s from his
days in the marines- what’s more; Harve was still
involved with the military.
checked the front of their dad’s diary and found
out the number he needed. He dialed quickly and waited
for the ring tone. Before the third ring, Harve picked
up. “Hey, Harve, it’s Sam Winchester…”
Sam waited for the usual boisterous greeting from his
old friend and then continued. “I was wondering
if you could do Dean and me a favor. Can you check if
there was ever any record of a German U-boat, designation
huh?” Harve was obviously intrigued at what the
Winchesters were up to, but as usual he didn’t
ask questions. He knew better than that. “I’ll
have to go through official channels on this one. Computer
records this side the pond don’t go that far back.
I’ll need to clarify this with our friends in
Europe. Call you back as soon as I know something, Samuel…”
cringed as he hung up. He hated being called Samuel
almost as much as he did Sammy, but Harve just never
did get out of the habit of calling him that. “Now,
we wait,” he said to no one in particular. “At
least, unless our sub manifests itself tonight…”
The Spindrift gently cut into the ocean’s
waves as her skipper expertly steered her on a tight
course past Teufel Point. The little boat bobbed as
it hit a wave and then continued onwards, unawares of
what the men aboard her were searching for.
It was dusk, and a light sea mist had
already begun to form, making the normally scenic area
appear almost menacing.
To Tim Walker, the haze would usually
have meant nothing. Tonight, its very presence made
his stomach queasy. It had been this way when he had
originally sighted the submarine and its long deceased
crew. Walker didn’t want to stick around to find
out if the U-boat was about to make a return appearance.
“Guys, I don’t care how
much you’re offering, I’m not sticking around
if that mist gets any heavier.” Walker glanced
at his two guests with a look of apprehension that gave
away just how scared he was feeling.
couldn’t resist a smirk back. After years on the
job and several close calls with death, very little
tended to bother him unless it involved damage to his
precious Impala or his father. “Relax.”
He shrugged playfully. “What’s the worst
that could happen? Maybe some ghost crew will come out
of the fog and skewer our asses. On the other hand,
I could just have been watching way too much Carpenter
grimaced. He’d been on the sea long enough to
know you never mocked it. The ocean was a beautiful
but deadly piece of nature; it deserved respect. “So
not funny, jerk.” He didn’t know who these
people were, but he was genuinely beginning to doubt
their government ID’s.
Sam nodded. For once, he agreed with
the young skipper. Dean was being his usual blaze self
when they least needed it. He’d also been making
far too many ‘Carpenter’ references considering
the fake name he’d given Sam. “I think we
need to take this situation a little more seriously.”
He nudged his brother and then jerked a thumb, indicating
they should head out on deck before Dean caused more
Dean raised a brow mischievously but
did as he was asked.
“You know, just because we live
with this stuff every day doesn’t mean everyone
else should be as hardened to it as we are.” Sam
took a hand from his pocket and steadied himself as
the Spindrift rocked with the ocean’s motion.
“Walker doesn’t strike me as a coward. He’s
just scared, Dean.”
knew his brother was right. There was nothing wrong
with fear. Heck, sometimes it could keep a person’s
senses heightened enough to save his life. That also
didn’t mean he couldn’t rib Walker a little
if he wanted to, now did it?
“Man, he just needs to lighten
up a little, ya know?” He didn’t wait for
a reply but instead his brow furrowed as he realized
the mist was indeed becoming denser as they headed into
it. “Sammy, is that mist turning into an out and
out fog or are my eyes seeing things?”
it’s getting thicker,” Sam agreed, watching
as the murky miasma rolled towards them, its mass changing
shape as it whirled atop the ocean. “I should
go check on Tim, before nerves get the better of him
and he turns tail.”
“Guys, you better get up here!”
Tim’s voice was shaky.
Dean nodded knowingly. “I’m
guessing those nerves you’re talking about just
kicked in.” He cocked his head towards the cabin.
“Come on, let’s go calm Ahab.” The
elder brother jogged along the deck and paused as he
reached the cabin door. He’d expected to see Walker
turning the Spindrift around, but instead Tim’s
eyes were glued to the radar screen as if he were mesmerized
For a split second, all Dean could
think of was how he’d once stood as a child, awestruck
while some evil shtriga had almost killed his brother.
It had been a long time ago, but the expression on Walker’s
face gave away what he was feeling the exact same thing.
Walker was no more a coward than Dean
had been. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong
time when something inherently evil was going down.
Abruptly, Dean regretted his earlier remarks about the
fisherman, although he would never confess as much to
“What have you got?” He
eventually asked, sensing it was what they had come
in search of.
Walker rubbed at the growth of beard
on his face and shook his head in disbelief. “There
was a blip on the radar. Then it was gone…”
Dean climbed further into the cabin
and leaned of the skipper’s shoulder. The screen
appeared clear. As he watched, the radar took another
sweep and pinged. Something was in the water ahead of
Another sweep and again the scope was
Dean quizzed, already knowing it was not.
way, I just had the Spindrift checked out. It’s
out there, isn’t it?” Tim dared to look
through the cabin window, but through the mist there
was little he could see. That didn’t stop his
body involuntarily shivering as the air temperature
suddenly began to drop.
Dean sensed the chill too, but decided
not to mention it. He might be a damn good driver when
it came to four wheels, hell, even two wheels, but there
was no way he or Sam could captain a boat- at least
not well enough to get them out of a sticky situation
should it arise. They needed Walker, and they needed
him as unruffled as possible.
“If it’s out there, we’ll
deal with it. Right now, that could be anything on your
He didn’t wait for the barrage
of rebuttals he knew would come. Instead, Dean headed
forward to rejoin Sam, letting a hand gently slide under
his jacket to touch what lay hidden there. He needed
to feel the cold metal of the weapon and know that if
trouble was coming, he was more than ready. John had
trained the brothers that way, and it was a habit he
and Sam would never lose- not even if they eventually
killed the demon one day and slipped into some semblance
of a normal life.
As he reached his brother, Dean realized
from Sam’s painful grimace that something was
wrong. “What the hell’s going on out here,
the episode here