Tom frowned. "I'll organize a search right away. Where are you calling from?" "Police headquarters at Sandbank." "Okay. Take it easy, and I'll send a whirlybird to pick you up," Tom promised. "And don't forget some clothes," Bud added with a chuckle. "Mel and I are getting chilly." "Right!" Tom hung up and gave Arv Hanson a quick briefing. Then he phoned the base airfield to dispatch a helicopter. He also contacted the nearest Coast Guard station and put through a long-distance call to Navy Headquarters in Washington to request help in searching for the jetmarine. Finally he and Arv headed back to the submarine docks in the jeep. A flurry of activity followed as Tom detailed ships for the search and rounded up crews. He was interrupted by a phone call in the loading shed. It was the control-tower operator. "One of our drone planes has spotted a sub approaching, skipper," the operator reported. "What bearing?" Tom demanded excitedly. "One-seven-six." Tom was about to hang up and grab a pair of binoculars when the operator added hastily, "Wait! It's responding to our radio challenge!... That's ours, all right!" Tom dashed out of the shed and scanned the sea to the southward. Sure enough, a jetmarine had surfaced and was speeding toward the sub docks. Minutes later, Tom was shaking hands warmly with Zimby Cox and Mack Avery. "Is Bud okay?" was Zimby's first question. "Right! I just heard from him," Tom replied. "He and Mel captured those enemy frogmen and a copter's on the way to pick them up. What happened to you fellows?" Zimby confirmed Bud's guess that they had taken off in pursuit of the enemy craft. "We figured Bud and Mel could make out on their own," Zimby explained. "And we thought the sub's course or actions might tip us off to its nationality. Also, if it tried any sabotage or mine-planting, we could radio the Navy." Instead, Cox went on, the mysterious craft had proceeded to a point about ten miles offshore where it rendezvoused with another submarine. "And get this, skipper!" Mack Avery put in. "The other sub was undetectable! We were close enough to get a peek at it, but we couldn't ping it on the sonarscope." "That figures," Tom said grimly. "Those frogmen were apparently Brungarians." Zimby Cox related that a man had transferred from the undetectable submarine to the one they had been following. The first sub had then headed out to sea, as if to cross the ocean back to its home base. The other had departed on a course toward the South Atlantic. "Probably back to the lost missile area. At least that's the way we figured it," Zimby added. "And neither sub spotted you?" Tom questioned. Zimby grinned wryly. "We might not be here if they _had_ detected us. But I'm pretty sure they didn't. Anyhow, they gave no sign."