"The fish were swimming ahead of it like it was their mother," Remo advised.
"I don't see any manufacturer's mark or serial numbers."
"Maybe they were burned off," said Remo.
Sandy looked up. "Burned off?"
"Yeah. You know, when thieves steal a gun or a car, they burn off the serial numbers with acid so it can't be traced."
"Nice theory. But this doesn't look like an explosive torpedo. The nose is as smooth as an egg."
"Could be a proximity fuse. They don't need to strike a target to blow it up," the helmsman offered.
Sandy stood up and adjusted her gun belt grimly.
"Well, it's ours now. We'll let the experts figure it out."
"Anybody got a cellular phone?" asked Remo.
"Sure. What for?"
"I want to contact my boss. Maybe he has a satellite fix on that sub. If the torpedo was launched from a sub, it can't be too far from here."
A cell phone was produced, and Remo dialed Harold Smith's contact number from the privacy of the bow.
In the middle of the third ring, the phone picked up. And an unfamiliar voice said, "We have lost contact, Commodore."
"Smitty?" asked Remo.
Chiun, hovering close, hissed, "That is not Emperor Smith."
"Shh," said Remo.
A second voice, smooth and almost without accent, said, "Repeat, please."
"There is no telemetry coming from the Hound."
"Take the usual precautions."
"Understood, Commodore," the first voice said, fading slightly. Then it called out, "Transmit selfdestruct signal."
Remo said, "Self-?"
His eyes went to the iron thing on the afterdeck. Sandy Heckman was looking it over with her bone white fists on her orange hips.
Dropping the handset, Remo covered the distance from midships to the afterdeck in two seconds. He took Sandy by her big floppy collar and sent her spinning backward. Her yelp of surprise was lost in the clang of the torpedo after Remo punted it with his naked big toe.
The torpedo shot off the deck, dragging netting along with it, and slipped over the side.
It made a healthy splash, and the salt spray was no sooner pattering on deck than the stern gave a convulsive leap.
A geyser of salt water roared a solid dozen feet over the rail and came down on deck to immerse the spot where Remo had stood. Remo was no longer there. He had faded back, grabbing Sandy Heckman by the waist while on the move.
They were in the shelter of the pilothouse when the cutter's stern finished bucking and wallowing.
"What the hell happened?" the helmsman shouted over the after roar.
"Later, I gotta check the stern," called Remo.
Remo flashed back to the stern and leaned over.
He was looking for diesel fuel and oil. There was neither, just sea foam boiling. A few dead whiting popped to the surface, their eyes looking stunned and incredulous.
Dropping over the side, Remo grabbed on to a coil of nylon line. With this he lowered himself under the waterline, away from the screws.
From below, the cutter looked a little ragged. One screw was turning with a slight wobble. But there were no ruptures, no serious damage.
Going back up the ladder, Remo reached the deck.
Sandy Heckman confronted him. "How did you know it was going to explode?"
"The cellular picked up some kind of transmission about a self-destruct signal. I figured it meant the torpedo."
Sandy frowned. "A cellular shouldn't pick up ship-to-ship radio traffic. It's on the UHF band."
"I know what I heard, but if you want I'll go get the torpedo back and we can try again."
"No, thanks."
The Master of Sinanju came bustling up with the cellular, saying, "Smith desires to speak with you."
Remo took the handset. "Smitty. Is that you?"
"Of course," Smith snapped. "You called me."
"I tried to. I got some kind of intercept."
"I heard it, too. One party calling another 'Commodore.'"
"We almost went down out here, Smitty. We hauled up some kind of dingbat torpedo and it blew up right after the commodore gave the self-destruct signal. I got the torpedo into the water just in time. Not that there's a lot of gratitude floating around," Remo added dryly.
Lieutenant Sandy Heckman pretended not to hear him.
"Listen, Smitty. Can you get a new fix on that sub?"
"I have its position as of four minutes ago."