Jones’ trance lasted ten minutes—longer than usual. He ordinarily had a contact figured out in far less time. The sailor leaned back and lit a cigarette. “Got something, Mr. Thompson.” “What is it?” Thompson leaned against the bulkhead. “I don’t know.” Jones picked up a spare set of phones and handed them to his officer. “Listen up, sir.” Thompson himself was a masters candidate in electrical engineering, an expert in sonar system design. His eyes screwed shut as he concentrated on the sound. It was a very faint low-frequency rumble—or swish. He couldn’t decide. He listened for several minutes
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