"Or to keep killing from happening. It's all how you look at it. Silent Thunder was built during the Cold War. The Russians were just as afraid of our doing a first strike as we were of them."

"Now you're waxing philosophic about the Cold War?"

"Sure, why not?" His smile faded as his gaze returned to the submarine. "She's beautiful, but it's going to be strange working on her."

"Why?"

"She's an Oscar II. Ever since I watched the TV coverage of the deaths of those Russian sailors on the Kursk, I can't think of Oscar II without remembering them. It's like they're all… ghost ships. It makes me sad."

"Not me. It makes me angry." Her lips tightened. "I offered my services to the Russian government to find a way to get those sailors out of that sub, and they were too proud to let me do it."

"I remember. At the time you were so mad you were ready to start World War III."

"They let them die. They didn't do enough. God, I hate politicians. How do you think those sailors felt, trapped and knowing they were going to die?"

"Easy," Conner said. "It's over, Hannah. You did all you could. It wasn't your failure."

"Yes, it was. It was everyone's failure. We should have ignored all that international diplomacy bullshit and gone in and saved them. I wouldn't make that mistake again. They'd have to shoot me out of the water to keep me from trying a rescue."

He gave a low whistle. "All that passion. I seem to have stirred you up a bit. Or maybe you're feeling a little of the same creepiness I am about this submarine."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"What do we know about the crew?"

"Not much yet. Bradworth obtained a complete dossier on them for the museum from the Russians, but I haven't seen it. He's also supposed to give me the complete documentation of the sub from the time it was discovered in Finland until it was sailed into this harbor."

"Then how do you know I'm being ridiculous?"