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They’d had to remind Harvey three times to return to Groom Lake before dawn. It was still dark out over the Pacific, but Nevada would get the sunrise an hour earlier and he had to tuck the Casper drone in the hangar before then.
He’d picked up another submarine just departing Ecuador—estimates said that there was at least one en route to the US almost any day of the year. He didn’t want to risk losing it overnight, so he jammed their radios and tried a different tactic.
They must have thought they’d hit the worst storm ever as he ran close by them time after time in varying directions, chewing up the waves at full throttle in between rolls, loops, and hard-banked turns. His Casper remote was even more fun than the F-18 Hornet from the front seat.
When the sub tried to submerge to ge
