two divers were now at his back, and they forced him face-first into the river bottom.
Driven into the mud, he fought with all his strength to break free. It was to no avail. Out of breath and pinned to the bottom, he sucked in a mouthful of river water and faced his death amid a black cloud of silt.
13
Mike has gone missing.”
The words stung Pitt like a punch to the midsection. “How long?” he asked, rising from his bunk and shaking off the cobwebs.
“He left the barge an hour ago,” Giordino said. “The deck watch reported him missing ten minutes ago. He’s in the water on a tank, no communications system. The extrusion tanker reported seeing him on their video feed about twenty minutes ago.”
“Could be stretching his air, but let’s get every available diver in the water. And now!”
“I’ll have a deckhand position a tender off the Mayweather’s bow, just in case.”
While Giordino made the call, Pitt gathered the four other NUMA divers and formulated a search plan. A few minutes later, he led the divers into the river.
Rainstorms to the north had added runoff to Lake St. Clair, casting the nighttime waters dim and murky. Pitt used the lighted scooter to speed across the Mayweather’s upper deck. He surveyed around the evacuation hose, then descended along the blunt face of the sheared vessel. He searched methodically along the serrated bulkheads, then turned to face a light in his eyes.
The petite form of a female diver approached. Audrey McKee gave him a blank look, pointed at the riverbed behind her, and shook her head. Pitt aimed his light down and found a black object that contrasted with the sandy bottom: a dive fin.
Pitt moved past Audrey and angled his scooter’s light into the next compartment. It was a ruptured storage tank that revealed a jagged open seam across its center. The still water in the interior was clear, and Pitt’s light found a body in a blue wetsuit wedged inside.
As Audrey joined him with her light, he squeezed into the tank and swam face to face with Cruz. The NUMA engineer’s unblinking eyes stared right through him. Cruz’s buoyancy compensator strap was caught on a mangled piece of steel, holding the dead man in place. His regulator hung limp across his chest. Pitt noted both it and the attached dive console appeared brand-new.
Pitt left the diver in place and searched the storage tank with the scooter light. Then he squeezed back out to where Audrey waited. A new pair of lights cut through the murk, and two of the NUMA search divers appeared. Pitt pointed to the storage tank, then indicated he was surfacing. Audrey followed as he ascended and crossed over to the barge.
Giordino stood on the dive platform, suiting up. He helped Audrey out of the water, then turned as Pitt climbed aboard. Giordino could tell the news was not good. “You found him?”
“One of the ruptured storage tanks. It appears he was investigating the interior, and his gear got caught up on some debris. Couldn’t free himself and ran out of air.”
Audrey shook her head. “How horrible.”
“How could it happen?” Giordino said. “Mike was highly experienced.”
Pitt nodded.
“It looked pretty confined in there,” Audrey said, “with plenty of jagged metal sticking out. He might have kicked up some sediment and lost his visibility. I’ve done some cave diving, and I know how easy it is to become disoriented.”
“He was exhausted, too,” Giordino said. “Like the rest of us.”
Pitt stared at the deck. Cruz was a good diver. Too good.
“We’ll suspend operations until we get him ashore and call in the authorities.” Pitt turned to Audrey. “Best make sure your divers don’t operate alone.”
“I’m very sorry.” She offered Pitt and Giordino a hug, then climbed into an inflatable and returned to her ship.
An hour later, members of the Wayne County Sheriff’s Marine Unit brought Cruz to the surface in a body bag and transported him to shore. After a half-day delay for a safety review, the newly arrived lift barge was positioned alongside the wreck, and the bow section of the Mayweather was raised. It followed the stern section on a flat barge to Cleveland, while the remaining vessels cleared the area. Audrey radioed Pitt that the BioRem freighter was departing to Ontario, and she wished him and Giordino well.
“A tug will be here in an hour to pull our barge to shore,” Giordino said. “Or we can jump ship in the tender right now. Rudi has us