Chapter Eighteen
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The door glided soundlessly open on invisible hinges.  Margaret sucked in a deep breath and held it.  They stood in the entrance of a naval submarine sleeping quarters.  Complete with wall mounted bunks, cramped conditions, and a stainless steel latrine.  The walls in the room were actually bulkhead, she realized with a start.  Three inch thick steel capable of withstanding a maximum crush depth of a half mile below the ocean surface.  Or, at least, that was how she believed it would have been explained to her if she had been reading some cheesy military fiction.  

Instead, she actually stood in the middle of one.  

"Wow," she whispered.  

The room was eerily still.  She reached for Shannon's hand but thought better of it and pulled away.  


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