The submarine's interior was a steel tomb, reeking of diesel and sweat.
Elias followed Commander Valdez through a narrow passage, his boots clanking on metal grating. The crew—men and women in patched uniforms—watched him with a mixture of awe and suspicion. Some reached for weapons. Others made signs against evil. The Silence stirred inside him, cold and eager, and he forced it back down.
"Your reputation precedes you," Valdez said, not looking back. "The Ghost Rig's ghost. The man who carries the Silence. Some of my crew think you're a bomb waiting to go off."
"They might be right," Elias said.
Valdez stopped at a hatch and turned. "That's why we're here. To make sure you don't."
She pushed open the hatch, and they entered a cramped wardroom. A table bolted to the floor, a few chair
