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Once again, Marina and Sebastian found themselves in hot water. The Pendragon was moving up the South American coastline, taking routes that by now seemed horribly familiar. Marina tapped her foot, as if her anger could actually make the ship go faster. Maybe it did, nobody was going to question it. Except possibly the Standartenfuhrer, but he had no reason to. The Mad Angler slowly moved up the coast, the lattice network of South American security quickly picking up the enormous submarine on a multitude of sensors. As had happened many times before, Don Escargot patrol groups were sent to engage them. Marina and her crew were extremely stealthy, but not quiet enough to sneak into the Federations strongest support network without notice. Yet again they would be caught, and forced into deeper waters, where the snails and their depth charges could not reach. |