Adding to the brilliance, the Coast Guard aircraft dropped magnesium flares directly over the surfaced submarine, then continued their circling. A new pulsating sound was added to the night scene as two helicopters swept past the lighthouse and slanted directly toward the submarine. Each helicopter carried two large barrellike objects under it. “Depth charges,” Teena’s father said. “If that submarine tries to dive it’s a goner.” Apparently the commander of the submarine realized the futility of escape. A white flag caught the light, as someone on deck began waving it wildly. More flares blossomed out as the aircraft circled around for the second time. Suddenly two Coast Guard patrol boats nosed into the lighted area. One of them fired a warning shot over the bow of the undersea craft. The white flag began to wave more urgently than ever. The action had taken less than five minutes. Eddie’s mind whirled with excitement. And then, almost as suddenly as it had started, it was over. One of the Coast Guard boats swept into the bay and picked up the men in the rubber raft. The larger boat swerved in and lay alongside the submarine. Eddie could see the crew of the submarine being transferred to the launch. A few remained, while several armed Coast Guardsmen boarded the submarine. Within a few minutes the patrolling aircraft buzzed low over the scene for the last time, then disappeared into the darkness, returning to their base. The helicopters swung back inland. The unused depth charges were still racked securely beneath them. “Boy, that was some timing,” Eddie’s father said, as the chop-chop-chop of the helicopters faded into the distance. The submarine had started to move up the coast in the direction of the U.S. Coast Guard depot. The flares sputtered out, and all was quiet once more on the water. Suddenly the beam from the lighthouse slanted up to its normal position, then began to revolve slowly in its familiar fashion. “Well, folks,” the Coast Guard lieutenant said, coming up behind them, “show’s over for tonight.” “And a real show it was,” Teena’s father said admiringly. “That was some display of teamwork.” “All part of our training,” the officer said, obviously pleased the way things had turned out. “We keep the wheels greased. When they have to turn, they turn smoothly.” “Tonight’s proof positive of that,” Mr. Taylor complimented. “My instructions,” the young officer said, “are to escort you to the Coast Guard depot. Those taken into custody should be there by the time we arrive. You may have a few questions to ask.” Teena and Eddie rode with the lieutenant in the gray sedan with “U.S. Coast Guard” printed on its doors. Their fathers followed in Mr. Taylor’s car. Gates opened as they entered the Coast Guard depot a while later. They were escorted into a large briefing room.