The Submarine A novel

Harold West, Jr., is a young sea pilot on board The Challenge submarine. When disaster strikes, he is forced to save everyone from danger.

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1. The Submarine-Part One

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​Harold West, Jr., ​thirty, was asleep on board ​The Roamer​ submarine when fire spread everywhere. He jumped out of his bed, opened the door with his right hand, and grabbed the fire extinguisher. Once the fire was out, he heard the sound of wailing sirens that blared two hundred meters downward off Moore Island, three hundred meters to the left of New York. Harold, who grew up wishing he could be underwater, gazed at Evelyn Blanchard, twenty-eight year old psychiatrist. "It's dangerous, Evelyn. Let's go up to the surface!", he yelled. She nodded. By 4:12 PM, on November 6, 2016, the submarine lifted from the depth of five hundred meters...and was raised in time before anything else went wrong with it.

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Evelyn sighed. She gazed at the glass window.

"It's over", she said. 

"What's over?", Harold asked her.

"My marriage to Don. He's with Sharon Bliss, his secretary", she answered him. He shook his head. He remembered dating Gretel Kane, the writer, for three years. When she died from a car accident off Morse Road, he broke down emotionally. Gretel was thirty-one years' old. She was buried at the Reserve Road Cemetery three miles away with her dead parents, Earl and Sharon Kane, who were both seventy years' old when they died of natural causes back in New Jersey. Harold stared at the messages on his I-phone. He wasn't going to go too fast with his romance with her; he was taking everything slow. Then, as he saw a car coming towards them. "It's Karol Scholl, the German scientist", Harold said. Evelyn nodded. The German scientists were eager to get a submarine deeper into the huge sea to bring up an old U-boat that had been destroyed back in 1943 during World War II. Harold had known Karol by his reputation only. Karol, who was sixty, was an graduate of Bonn University when he studied there in the cold, biting, European winter of 1978 to 1980; he worked in engineering from 1981 to 1982, when he was on board ​The Glowing III​ submachine working under Captain Georg Markham, a German who was known for his anger...and no nonsense attitude towards work in the raging sea. Harold opened the dusty front door and greeted him. "Good morning. I was a bit late due to the airport emergency. American security is a nightmare", he said. "Yes, I'm sure it is", Harold said. Karol, who stood six foot three, towered above them. He had silver-grey hair, bright, blue eyes, and tall. He smiled at Evelyn. "I heard good things about you, Evelyn. And Harold. I learned English at Oxford University back in 1982 and 1983". With him was a woman. She smiled at him. Harold remembered her from the past. "Frederica Stole". The German woman nodded. "Good morning, Harold. I hoped to see you. Don't worry. I am married to Karol for two decades". Evelyn felt relieved. She didn't need to be bothered by any woman from Germany; she kissed Harold...and held out his right hand, as if to own him. Harold blushed with embarrassment, then the small group headed to the huge docking bay where the ​Challenger submarine was in the deep water.

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Harold noticed the sailors were saluting him. "It's alright! Go back to work", he ordered. And they did as they were told, while the group checked the submarine. "After lunch, we'll check on the submarine. Safety is important these days". Karol nodded, and they reached the Mess Hall, then ate.

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