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Page 222
"My cameras were returned to me empty," Anna said flatly.
"They recovered all your cameras?"
"Two of them. The Olympus and the Hasselblad. I was using the Hasselblad when we were hit."
"No film in either of them when they were returned?"
"I'm a professional photographer. I don't carry cameras without film in them."
"No," Morgan agreed. "Of course you wouldn't. All right then. Tell me what Ryerson wants. Besides a peek at your vanished films."
"He asked me to describe exactly what the submarine looked like."
"Interesting," Morgan said thoughtfully.
"I think so. He wanted to know if I could definitely identify the submarine as American."
"He'd like that. Can you describe it?" Morgan asked. "There are differences between American and Soviet boats. Quite obvious ones."
"I have no idea what they are."
"Try to remember details. A professional photographer would have an eye for the details."
She sat silent, remembering. "Well, for one thing there was a kind of bulge just under the water ahead of the sail. I gather that's where the missile launchers are."
"Not on U.S. Navy boats."
"I was scared to death. I could have been mistaken."
"I don't think you were. I think that what you saw was a Hotelclass Soviet missile submarine. One that was supposed to have reached the yard in Murmansk, but somehow didn't."
"How can you be so sure, Morgan?"
"Because I saw photographs of that same boat. The pictures I saw were taken by the navy in the Yucatan Strait." Morgan stared straight at her. "I think the boat left Hudson Bay six days after it shot down your airplane. It steamed through Hudson Strait into the Labrador Sea, then south and west along

 
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