Chapter Eleven

Planet Earth, over 65 million years BC

Edge of new water, Great valley

The special force squad moved quietly down the mountainside and onto the rocky shore where they had left their boats. They moved with the caution, speed, stealth, skill and efficiency which had been hammered into them by months, even years of brutal training and hellish combat experience.

When they had been fighting that endless war in the Hindu Kush mountains, they had known the value of moving like the shadows. A single sound could result in the death of the whole squad at the hands of the mujahedeen who prowled those mountains. Worse, it could result in their capture, along with all the accompanying torture, mutilation and execution that characterised being a prisoner of those so called "holy warriors". In these strange yet somewhat less hostile mountains, that same rule applied.

The difference was it could lead to them becoming the meal of a carnivorous dinosaur or successful kills for any Americans who might have got here first, as far as they were concerned.

One great difference between them and their young prisoners was that the dinosaurs viewed the great mountain ranges as their friend, keeping their lush green paradise safe from sharpteeth and the other terrible dangers that both themselves and the grown-ups had faced during their perilous journey to the great valley.

To their captors however, mountains could be places of death and destruction, in which the seemingly omnipotent and omnipresent dukhi had been able to strike and confuse their forces with ease, and suddenly melt away and disappear when the Red Army tried to fight back. They took the same view of these mountains – even if the enemy was different.

Three of the dinosaurs, Spike, Cera and Littlefoot, were each held being goaded along by the butt of the two-leggeds strange weapons, with one dinosaur to each two-legged, while Petrie and Ducky rode upon them.

Petrie had been highly apprehensive about this, while Spike was panicking, but the second had been patient, and calmed them down with soft words. He told them that we would be treated well if they co-operated. The dinosaurs had reluctantly agreed, and the second had then seemingly confirmed to his leader that they were ready to disembark.

Soon enough they left the mountains and arrived on shore. The two-leggeds remained quiet and focused as ever, with two of them taking up point at a position facing inland, training their bizarre weapons in all directions, while the others prepared those things that floated in the water. Littlefoot was impressed at their calm and focus while moving and holding position, as they seemed to be ready for virtually anything – even sharpteeth.

The only one who showed any sign of nervousness was the one who had found them in that strange place they called a "missile bay". Littlefoot got the impression he was much younger than the others by many cold times. The other two-leggeds seemed like they were more used to facing danger and death on a regular basis, but the young one seemed to be thrown into something he otherwise would not have been involved in. Littlefoot was surprised, but he actually began to feel pity for that strange creature.

Cera, however, was more focused on that "CO" and his second. The leader seemed to be every bit as tough and brutal as the toughest Threehorn. He had already installed great fear of him into her, and that healthy fear seemed to be prevalent among this band of two-leggeds. Was there any emotion hidden within that creature of stone? She doubted if she would find out, as he had seemed really angry about the dinosaurs being inside the mysterious giant.

But what kind of reasoning would lead them to suspect that she and her friends might somehow be connected to their enemies? She had a feeling she would soon find out, and she was dreading that. Right now, she noticed that the CO and his sidekick seemed to be in some form discussion. Although they were whispering and speaking softly, it seemed quite heated. But of course they were speaking in their own dumb language and she could not understand a word of what they were saying.

Lieutenant Serov and Warrant officer Petrolakov were indeed in heated debate. Yuri could not understand the need to bring these five unusual prisoners in for questioning. While it was he agreed it was truly incredible, and would that he would otherwise consider it impossible that they could not only speak but also speak a language identical to English, he did not think that automatically meant they were linked to the Americans.

"These are five children." He said, gesturing to them. "For all we know they may have just stumbled upon the wreck and got curious, like children usually do. Maybe we should just release them and let them go home."

"And compromise our presence here?"

"We would still be compromised if we took them back to the sub. Their parents would come looking for them. We could always let them go now, before swearing them to silence - they're afraid of us enough already."

"And what makes you think they'll keep their word once they leave us? Yuri, you and I both know that this situation is unusual and suspicious. We've both seen kids as young as five act as scouts for the enemy in Afghanistan, so why should it be any different here?"

"We don't know if the Americans are here at all."

"You know that we would not have been dispatched to this wreck at all if there was a serious risk of a security breach. So we have to consider the possibility that the enemy might be here."

"And what do you think these things are? American science experiments? Perhaps the Yanks taught them English, or maybe mutated their brains so they could speak English, is that you're thinking?"

Serov betrayed a slight, yet rare smile. Petrolakov was a damn good soldier, but a good soldier and officer had to be prepared to consider every possibility, and be prepared to face just about anything or any situation, however unusual or dangerous. There were certain things Serov considered highly improbable, but even the improbable could be possible, as the voyage through the tunnel and the encounter with that underwater monster had proved to him.

"It's a slim possibility. But my belief is that they were probably capable of communicating anyway. The Americans may have stumbled onto the tunnel, as we did, and found dinosaurs that could talk. They may have persuaded these creatures to scout the wreck for them, in the hope of avoiding a direct confrontation with us once they learned we were coming. They may have thought we would just view of them as normal animals."

"If that were the case then the Yanks made a poor choice of spies. They spoke and revealed their names to us the moment we found them. If they were spies, they would have kept quiet to pass themselves off as everyday critters, as you said."

"Well, we must consider the fact that they appear to be quite naive. It seems to me they may not know what they got themselves into."

"Exactly! So it's highly unlikely they were involved with the enemy. There's no sense in taking them back with us."

Serov smiled lightly.

"I think the real reason, Yuri Andreieveich, is that you feel that taking them with us is immoral. You don't want to hold kids prisoner..."

"My sensibilities are not the primary reason sir, but..."

"You needn't worry. We are simply bringing them in for questioning. We do not know if the Americans are here or not, and they can help us clarify."

"What about the adults?"

"They'll get their kids back - soon. They won't be able to give us much trouble out at sea, anyway."

It was a considerable debate before they finally agreed on a course of action. Eventually Petrolakov decided his commander knew best. But as well as feeling bad about taking young kids prisoner (that was what they effectively were, despite not being human), he was annoyed that they should have to burden themselves with them. For him, taking these dinosaurs prisoner was an interference with the main mission. The squad's duty should be focused on that wrecked sub – nothing else. Still, if Serov said jump, Petrolakov had to say how high. He could advise him on a course of action to try to change his mind – but in this case he was unmovable. They began to load the five young creatures into the boats, with Serov snapping orders to his troopers.

"Split them up! Those two go with me," he gestured to Littlefoot and Cera, "That other big one and the small fry go with warrant officer Petrolakov."

Littlefoot and Cera were carried into the CO's boat. Littlefoot's back leg slipped and he fell into the salty water. It was shallow, but the waves bumped him about quite a bit on the rocky shore, until two strong hands lifted him out and placed him in the boat. The young longneck noticed that it was the young two-legged who had picked him out. This creature now asked him something, but it was still in that strange language. Littlefoot guessed he probably didn't know any leafeater, or "English" as they called it, so the second-in-command spoke for him.

"He wants to know if you're OK."

"I'm fine. Thank you."

"We can't stay here long." said the CO. "Into the boat now."

Littlefoot obeyed. He noticed that the mood and treatment that he and his friends were receiving from these creatures seemed to be one of varying levels of hostility. When they had first met the second in command, he had spoken to them in a relatively calm and friendly manner. Then the atmosphere had changed in an instant when the CO had first interrogated the dinosaurs, where they had sensed much suspicion and even anger towards them. When they had been lead down the small mountain pass the two-leggeds had been relatively indifferent, and hardly spoke. They were more focused on making sure the passage was safe, and to them the dinosaurs were just objects to be carried. Now he had just been lifted out of the waves by a two-legged, which proved to him that they were not unconcerned for their well-being – they probably wanted their prisoners alive.

Cera hated the big water, and she didn't like floating on something in the big water much either, such as a log. In any case, it was guaranteed she would feel heavily sick when travelling across the water on anything, especially in those strange, rubbery floaters that were waiting on shore. They did not seem stable to her. She knew she wouldn't stand the inevitable bobbing and rocking of the sea, but she was not given a choice. The two-legged guarding her simply bundled her into the floater. Spike was put into the other one, which the second in command took position in, with Ducky and Petrie still secured in his pouches. He now let them out into the bottom of the floater, where they stayed with Spike. They knew they had no chance of escape, and neither of them would try to swim or fly away while the two-legged's weapons were in their hands. The young two-legged took position in that same floater, while the CO and the one with the long black weapon took their position in the floater that held Littlefoot and Cera. The latter groaned – this would be even worse than that sea crossing to Chomper's island.

The CO gave an order, and the other two creatures in his floater used long, paddle shaped objects to push themselves away from the shore, and began to row further out. The other floater followed suit. The waves began to become choppier as the floaters progressed further out into the sea, and the rocking motion became worse – as did Cera's sea sickness. Littlefoot looked at his three-horned friend pitifully as she began to show shades of green and covering her mouth with her front feet. She looked worse than she had done the last time she had sailed the big water. The CO, as ever, was indifferent, and did not even listen when she groaned uncomfortably.

"I hate the big water...I really do...Let me go and I won't throw up..."

But the lieutenant's gaze was fixed firmly straight ahead. He was entirely focused on his task, his face as hard as ever. He would not be distracted by a disgruntled prisoner. However, that clearly did not apply to the other two creatures. The one who cradled that elongated instrument of death noticed Cera's newly found colouration, and began to snigger, and then possibly telling the other one that they were in for a show. Cera was determined not to allow those horrible things the chance to crow over her discomfort. She did her best to hold the bile down, for an impressively long time. But in the end she decided it was not worth it.

"Oh what the heck..." she said queasily. She then moved groggily towards the side. The two thuggish two leggeds grinned. A second later, Cera threw her front end over the side and retched. This prompted a fit of mean, mocking laughter from the junior two-leggeds. The laughed and pointed just like Hyp, Mutt and Nod would sometimes do with the gang back at the great valley. First they mocked her in their own language, and then the one with the long weapon, a burly, moronic looking creature laughed and pointed amusedly at Cera, cackling words of broken leafeater.

"Dinner? That dinner, da? Your dinner! You swim? Go get it!"

Cera did her best to ignore all this. She was burning with rage – both at herself and at these rotten people who she was now stuck in the middle of the big water with. She now swore she would never sail the big water, and never come up with another stupid idea, like searching a mysterious wreck, ever again. She would (and she hated this idea with a passion) from now on do everything Littlefoot told her, and never question his judgement. She would run away when faced with a band of creatures with exploding weapons, and fight with them if necessary. She imagined her father watching her retch over the side of the floater, and shaking his head in disdain at the fact a Threehorn, his daughter no less, would show such lack of stomach. He would be particularly ashamed of her for being intimidated so easily by the CO. She always asserted that she would never show fear, but she could not help but show it in bad situations. Now she was not afraid – but totally humiliated.

Littlefoot looked at her pitifully. There was nothing she could do to retaliate, or nothing he could do to intervene. The stranger's exploding weapons would silence them instantly. But then the CO barked something, and they were silenced. He then turned to Cera.

"Take it easy. Once we reach the sub, you should feel better."

He said this without emotion before turning back, focused on course. Littlefoot noticed the pendulum had swung again – first back to bad treatment and now back to relatively fair recognition of the dinosaur's dignity. Littlefoot hoped it would stay there. He then got the confidence to ask a question.

"What's a sub?"

The CO said nothing, but simply pointed to the dark shape that lay on the horizon – the other mysterious giant floater. It looked even more foreboding now that they were out on the big water with it, more so than any swimming sharptooth. It stood there, a black island jutting out in the middle of a blue sea like an unnatural sore thumb. And they were heading straight for it. Littlefoot and the others felt feelings of dread build up in them, having no idea what they would find themselves in – or whether it may result in their deaths.

What was even worse was that they could do nothing about it.

Soviet Navy submarine K-128 K.K. Rokossovsky, Alfa-class SSN

Captain Rankov watched the horizon carefully, and not just through binoculars. His boat was equipped with state of the art navigation computers, which many would assume to have made the more old-fashioned, traditional navigation obsolete and unnecessary. However, Rankov knew that it was not advisable to rely on new toys completely – even the best navigation computer in the world could sometimes be wrong.

He had heard and been told so many times that it was now cliché – the best computer in existence is the one inside your head. So, to ensure that all the navigation figures calculated by the computer were accurate, he checked his position using a sextant, measuring the distance between his boat and the shore by focusing on the horizon, and plotting that exact position on the chart. He liked to ensure that his basic seafaring skills did not rust while passing the time.

Right now, he was waiting for the return of his Spetznaz team, and was voluntarily maintaining a constant watch for them, even though his officers had told him they might take a while. He did not care – he wanted to ensure that his men came back safely. The watch still circulated for the lower ranking officers, but the Captain stayed on the conning tower that whole night.

Soon the early morning watch would arrive. Rankov looked at his watch. Yes, they should arrive any minute now. The conning tower watches usually consisted of four men, but since the Captain was maintain a constant watch, that number was reduced to three men at different times.

The next watch due was...the Captain looked at a clipboard. 3rd class Captain Anatoly Vivienko, one of the lieutenants from down below, and none other than Captain lieutenant Vladimir Mishin.

Oh well; maybe he'll be quieter on deck watch. If he starts speechifying, maybe if we ignore him he'll stop.

Mishin was late for that watch. The lieutenant arrived, on time as always, with Vivienko leading the way. With a smile, Rankov's second officer clicked his heels and saluted, before giving a good-natured nod.

"Good morning Captain."

"Good morning number two. Is the political officer planning on joining us?"

"The political officer sends his apologies sir, but he is temporarily delayed. I am happy to inform you that it is not due to the fact that he has a husky throat as a result of excessive speech making, but because he is struggling to pull on his boots."

The lieutenant gave a snigger. Rankov smiled and smirked, but he thought it best to avoid relations between his officers becoming too awkward.

"Take it easy number two. We all serve the union in our own way."

"I'm serious sir; he is struggling with getting his costume together."

The lieutenant laughed out loud. Rankov did not get that joke, and he was about to give a rebuke when the political officer appeared. The Captain struggled to hold back the temptation to laugh in his face. They had arrived in a relatively warm environment since leaving the tunnel, and as such they only wore their regular uniforms to keep cool. But Mishin was now sporting a grand greatcoat with a ushanka on his head. The flaps on the furry hat were folded upwards, but it was totally out of place in a warm climate.

In that context, he looked absolutely ridiculous. No wonder Vivienko had made a joke at his expense. But the Captain tried to remain professional as he could.

"Comrade Captain lieutenant, why are you wearing light winter clothing?"

"I thought it necessary for an officer to be fully prepared and presentable on duty."

"We're not on parade. On active duty, you only wear what you need."

"Thank you Captain. But I shall be quite comfortable."

"As you wish Comrade. Carry on."

The sniggers still echoed. Many on the boat wondered if Comrade Mishin even knew how he came across. Still, many regarded him as a slippery fish and an arrogant sneak, who often assumed total authority in areas he should have had none.

It was recognised by everybody that as the party's representative commissar, he had the authority to remove the Captain or any other officer if he and the party felt it necessary, and if he suspected treason. Rankov knew that Commissars, party agents and secret policemen had a way of making you feel so paranoid and threatened that they could accuse you easily of being a traitor. Mishin had certainly made him feel that way, particularly when he revealed that a certain part of the Rokossovsky's orders were reserved only for him, and by the way he just seemed to believe he had authority of everything and everyone.

Still, he would have to maintain a clear head and stable leadership when dealing with this commissar, if he wanted to build some sort of trust.

It wasn't long before the Captain's thoughts were interrupted. The lieutenant pointed towards the water off the submarine's port side, and cried softly:

"Two points off the port bow!"

It was upon seeing the two inflatable special operations boats that Rankov let out a sigh of relief. The Spetznaz had returned safely, without having to go through the emergency flare procedure, without letting off rounds and without picking an unnecessary fight with anybody or anything – or so he thought.

His hope that their mission had gone totally according to plan without any anomaly were promptly killed off when he took a look through his binoculars, and saw what they were carrying in their boats. The lieutenant also noticed, his eyes widening with curiosity.

"They look like dinosaurs sir. Young ones, at that."

"Indeed. Looks like Serov decided to take some prisoners."

"Hard to believe he would take any prisoners" Vivienko quipped, "but I guess he decided to make a change for once."

Rankov did not react to the joke this time. This situation was now hardly light-hearted. He had expected Serov to go in stealthily, and retrieve what he needed to retrieve without causing any disturbance.

Now, he had taken several young dinosaurs prisoner, who undoubtedly had parents in that valley. The adults would certainly be ruffled, and would probably go looking for their kids, and would probably congregate more around the wreck site. That would make the mission all the more complicated.

"Terrific. Now we have angry dinosaurs to deal with. Not to mention we can't contact command, as we're now wherever the hell we are. Now what do we do?"

The political officer, however, seemed unperturbed.

"Comrade Serov would not have taken them if he did not think them suspicious."

"And what makes you think them a cause for suspicion?"

Mishin fell silent. The Captain decided that he would question Serov's motives in taking those creatures.

He wondered if Ensign Yashin was still after things he could shoot or sell back home. Despite the Soviet Union's official anti-free enterprise system, there was an underground black market full of exotic and disreputable goods, and equally disreputable characters. It was so large that it was never fully suppressed, and it kept cashing in high profits outside of the state's centrally planned economy. It had grown stronger in Russia and Eastern Europe as the official economy had stagnated.

Rankov did not consider it highly unlikely that one or two of the Spetznaz team might have links to this illicit market. A living or dead dinosaur would probably fetch a pretty penny and make them internationally famous. Yashin might not be able to shoot a Pterodactyl, but he would have baby dinosaurs.

The Captain suspected this, and if this was the case, he would not tolerate it. They were not here to pick up trophies to sell – such an act would be considered a breach of secrecy that this mission was under. No one must know of the activities the Rokossovsky had undertaken.

Serov's boats arrived soon enough, and soon the Spetznaz and their unusual prisoners were all aboard. The men climbed up the crude foot and hand holds into the conning tower's bridge, where the captain and his watch stood. As they did this, they ushered the five dinosaurs upwards, until they too arrived at the top of the conning tower, regarding their captors fearfully.

Rankov studied them closely. Each one was of five different species – a triceratops, an Apatosaurus, a duckbill and a stegosaurus. All looked frightened (especially the pterosaur), and the triceratops looked like it had yet to find its sea legs.

Once again, different species of dinosaur seemed to be integrated, which most scientists would not have expected. The Captain wondered if dinosaurs were not the simple, lumbering, unintelligent reptiles of popular myth. Maybe they had more intelligence than met the eye...

But Rankov had no time for that. He was strictly business-like, and dealt with his first priority. He turned away from the dinosaurs, and looked at lieutenant Serov sternly.

"Did I ask for them, Comrade lieutenant?"

"No sir, but I suggest we question the prisoners at once."

"Prisoners? They are nothing more than animals, baby animals. The adults will be angry with us now."

"Comrade Captain, I insist we question them. We found them skulking around the wreck and..."

"They can talk." Warrant officer Petrolakov spoke so suddenly that it caught everyone off guard. Then the Second officer burst out laughing.

"Talk?" spluttered Vivienko. "I think you guys watched too many animal cartoons when you were kids! Are you trying to pull some kind of joke?"

"I insist Comrade" said Serov, now somewhat irritated "That my deputy is telling the truth, and so am I."

"Prove it."

The Spetznaz lieutenant nodded calmly. He then spoke to the long necked dinosaur, which was a surprise enough – but what was even more shocking was that he spoke in English. Then the biggest shock of all came.

"Please, don't hurt us!"

The dinosaur had spoken – in clear English, no less. The Soviet officers stared in disbelief. Rankov's eyes widened, and his mouth opened in astonishment. Vivienko's lips pursed in utter disbelief, and his eyebrows shot up. Mishin's eyebrows crossed, and his eyes stared daggers of disturbance.

The junior lieutenant however, could only faint. His body struck the deck with a clang. Rankov immediately ordered two of the Spetznaz troopers to take him the medical bay. But he could not take his bedazzled eyes of the five little reptiles. They could speak – and in English. How was that possible? Were the dinosaurs more intelligent that palaeontologists had assumed? Were they intelligent enough to communicate? If so, why in English?

But now he understood the Spetznaz team's grounds for suspicion. They must have concluded from the fact the dinosaurs spoke English that they were somehow linked to the Americans. Rankov disagreed with that assessment, but he now understood Serov's motives.

However, the lieutenant was misguided. There had been no signs of the Americans in the vicinity, and it was very far-fetched that they somehow might have taught the dinosaurs English somehow or had engineered them that way as a science experiment. He considered it more likely that their language of choice sounded like English by a massive coincidence. They were just the prehistoric equivalent of local children stumbling upon a piece of military equipment and then exploring it and playing on it, despite the fact their elders may have told them to stay away from it. It was no different from children in a war-torn country playing on derelict tanks.

Rankov decided, as a superior officer, to stamp out Serov's assumptions.

"I know what you probably thought when you found them. And you're wrong. There are no Americans here, just curious little lizards."

"I thought it best to report and bring anything suspicious to you sir."

"Well, I don't think this is suspicious. We'll have their parents looking for them now. Take Petrolakov back with you in that boat and put them ashore, as quickly as possible."

"With respect sir, we have to consider every possibility. They were found in the missile bay - we have to address this."

"So what now then?" Vivienko's sharp wit was on time as always. "The gulag?"

"I believe sir that we should question them to see if I'm right." Serov was clearly irritated.

The Captain did see why he would have reason to be suspicious, but the second officer clearly saw it as laughable. He carried on with the joke. He spoke to the dinosaurs in clear Russian, (rather than in the English he knew) so that his fellow officers could understand the point he was making. He tipped his officer's cap in mocking respect to the dinosaurs.

"It is an honour to meet the CIA's newly formed dinosaur division! It is so sad that Comrade Serov will have to shoot you as spies!"

Rankov couldn't help letting a smile appear, though the Spetznaz CO was clearly not amused.

"Sir I insist..."

"And I insist lieutenant that you are wasting our time. You may well have compromised the mission. Do as the Captain said – return them to the shore!"

Vivienko always adopted a serious stance when he felt subordinates were beginning to step out of line, and Serov was no exception. But then Mishin stepped in. The other two officers guessed what his position would be – and they were proved right.

"I can sympathise with our brave Comrades' suspicions. I share their suspicions myself. I think it would be prudent enough to question these..."

He looked down at the young dinosaurs. Most rational people would probably have not assigned the label he then assigned to them.

"...these possible espionage-engaging subversives."

Vivienko just laughed again. But the Captain maintained his business-like demeanour. It was necessary to maintain it when dealing with a critical situation such as this.

"You share their suspicions?"

"Yes Comrade. I wish to question them myself."

"That'll be rich." murmured Vivienko obviously. Mishin pretended not to hear.

"I have sufficient English for such questioning. I will be happy to provide an answer to such nagging suspicions."

The Captain was now lost in thought. On the one hand, the suspicions that these dinosaurs were part of a threat, real or imagined, seemed misguided. Every rational thought told him it made more sense to put these youngsters back ashore so they could return home – if they were found absent by the adults, that could mean serious trouble. He knew that parents do not react well to having their young taken from them, for whatever reason.

On the other hand, if they questioned the dinosaurs quickly, they could release them afterwards without too much trouble. They would probably learn more about where the Rokossovsky was, the lie of the land, the state of the TK-95, and possible threats in this area. Rankov also saw it as necessary to not be on permanently bad terms with the political officer, despite the fact that most of the crew considered him an annoyance. If he was given a role, he would be appeased and he would be actually making his contribution.

Rankov weighed the pros and cons. It was not an easy decision, but he came to it. He gestured to the Spetznaz troopers.

"Very well. Take them down below and lock them in the storeroom. That should be secure enough. Captain Lieutenant Mishin will see to questioning presently."

It would not do to have them running around during questioning. The troopers obeyed the order, shuffled the dinosaurs down the ladder that lead from the conning tower to the deep bowels of the hull. They had the sullen and terrified look of innocents being lead to execution. The young female Triceratops, however, did not look like she would go down without a fight, and put up a struggle when one of the troopers goaded her down the ladder with his rifle barrel.

"Stop prodding me with that!" she yelled in English. "You've got no right!"

Soon they were down below. Serov and Mishin followed close behind, in order to begin the interrogation. Rankov was left alone with his second officer, who then promptly spoke up.

"If you ask me sir, putting those things back ashore would have been the right decision. The political officer will probably overdo it, like everything else..."

"Then why didn't you raise your objections the moment I began to change my decision?"

Vivienko paused. The Captain had challenged him, and he was now thinking carefully. He did not want to feel to berated.

"You are the Captain, Sir. I respect your decisions. It is my duty to follow your orders. I was simply indicating my current status. I will always obey you."

"Always." mused Rankov. "A very dangerous word, Anatoly."

Vivienko fell silent. He wondered if he had embarrassed or offended the Captain. Maybe he felt that he was challenging him our sucking up to him. He was a sound Captain, but he seemed to have a restless mind. Maybe that was just because he was new...

The second officer snapped out of his thoughts – the Captain had spoken again.

"Tell you what, number two", he said with a slight smile, "Why don't you go down there and check on comrade Mishin's progress. I'm sure if he overdoes everything, as you put it, you will no doubt be able to keep him on the right track. After all, you would probably want to see that the CIA's first dinosaur division comes to no harm, would you not?"

Vivienko gave a broad smile, and the captain returned it. He really does have my sense of humour after all, thought Anatoly. That is well.

"Of course sir, I will come to their defence if needs be!"

And with that he made his way down the hatch. Captain Rankov gave a sigh of relief and calmness. He then stared out on the horizon. The sun had not yet risen, yet the faint light on the eastern horizon and the fading stars told him daybreak was near. It was probably four in the morning at least.

Yet he still did not feel tired after constant watch – duty seemed to overrule body. Soon the sun would rise, and he would get another view of that beautiful green valley and the blue waters of this warm, tropical sea.

He then realised that he had not finished taking bearings. He picked up his sextant, along with his notebook, pen and compass. He found the horizon and Zenith once more, along with the relative positions of stars and sun, and returned to his calculations.