An exhausted Peggy and the others slowly made their way up the yacht's stairs. At the base of the lab's steps, Howard was about to follow them when a frantic call from the Captain came over the speaker, "Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark. Do you read me?"

Frowning, Howard hurried over to the nearest intercom, "Yes, what is it, Captain?"

Barely containing his panic, the Captain blurted, "Sir, the warship has just fired torpedoes. I have us going as fast as possible, but they will still strike us in less than 3 minutes."

Howard ordered, "Just keep pressing forward, Captain. We'll take care of them ourselves."

While a worried Peggy and Jarvis looked at him quizzically, Howard stated, "We'll use the speedboat to draw the torpedoes away." Leaving Dmitri with Zdenka, Peggy, and Jarvis raced out onto the deck.

"He'll have it tied to the stern," Jarvis yelled to her over his shoulder.

Adrenaline pushed Peggy's lethargy and pain to the back of her mind. She was just behind Jarvis when they reached the speedboat secured at the rear of the yacht. Her mental clock said they were quickly running out of time.

While Peggy untied the mooring rope, Jarvis hopped in and quickly turned the ignition key. As he revved the motor, Howard suddenly appeared carrying a large electronic device in his hands. Climbing on board, he handed the bulky object to the flummoxed Jarvis. His expert fingers speedily hardwired another smaller mechanism to the boat's electronic control panel.

While he was working, Peggy flexed her wounded arm and winced. Determined, she stated, "Right. I think I can drive it. Don't worry. I will dive out once the torpedoes get a lock on it."

Jarvis interrupted, "No, I will do it. You are wounded, and the sharks already know your blood. They'll probably intentionally seek you out for denying them a proper English breakfast."

Smirking, Peggy quipped, "Are you saying I am the flavor of the month, Mr. Jarvis?"

Howard snorted at them. As he scrambled out of the speed boat, he grabbed the large box from Jarvis. "No need for either of you to be reckless heroes. We'll use a remote control device to pilot baby."

As Jarvis climbed out, Peggy looked at Howard, amazed. Grinning, he stated, "Got to stop underestimating me, pal."

After flicking a few switches on the box's control panel, Howard sent the speedboat on its final journey. Effortlessly he manipulated the toggles and levers so that it was on a crash course with the fast-approaching torpedoes.

Standing barely away at a safe distance, the three watched as the speedboat rammed the torpedoes, instantly detonating them. There was a huge explosion, and water drenched them.

Flicking water off her face, Peggy asked, concerned, "What about any more torpedoes?"

Doing a quick calculation, Howard reassured her, "We're out of their range by now."

Once his words sunk in, Peggy and Jarvis cheered in triumphant relief. Though it meant that they no longer had a secondary boat for excursions, at least they weren't at the bottom of the sea. Peggy considered it a fair tradeoff.

With all the danger over, Peggy tiredly sagged against the nearest wall.

Howard eyed her speculatively, "You look like you could do with some rest, Peg. Good thing we have well over a day of traveling."

Nodding, Peggy allowed them to help her to the infirmary. Yes, she could do with a day off.

From the warship's bridge, Smith and Hodge saw the torpedoes destroy the sacrificed speedboat instead of sinking Howard's prized yacht.

Looking through his binoculars at the fleeing vessel that was no longer in target range, Smith chomped his cigar in two. An alive, albeit wounded, Peggy Carter was cheering joyfully with her friends in plain sight.

"That woman has more lives than a cat," Smith spat. "Damn it. They'll get there before us now."

Hodge frowned at his leader's words and mumbled, "I'll call my military contact again. He might have another warship we could lease."

Smith glared at his second in command, "Yes, because this one is such a luxury liner. No, never mind that. I have someone I can call in for a favor to greet our tenacious friends at Malta." He pulled out a little black book from the breast pocket of his suit. After reading over a list, he nodded, pleased, "Yes, yes, he should do nicely."

He clocked Hodge's curious expression and explained, "I know a British Admiral with a nasty secret that would ruin him if word got out. He is stationed near Palermo, Italy, which is very close to Malta, so he should easily beat them there."

Peeved that his suggestion had been so rudely brushed aside, Hodge demanded, "Then what?"

Smith silently eyed Hodge coolly and then got on the bridge's outgoing phone. After a few minutes, he was finally transferred to his military contact, "This is Agent Smith with the CIA. Yes, I bet you recognize my voice. I need a favor." He smirked at Hodge, who tried to overhear the Admiral's responses. Instead, all Hodge heard was indistinguishable replies punctuated by undecipherable yells.

The Lead CIA Agent took it all in stride, "Relax, Admiral, you do as I ask, and I promise to bury your secret so deep that it will never rise to the surface ever again. Think of it as evening the score between us." Waiting a moment, he then answered smugly, "I thought so. Now, I need you to set up a military blockade off the Grand Harbour of Malta."

This time he had to hold the receiver away from his ear. After the Admiral had finally calmed down, Smith sneered, "I don't care. Say it is for military maneuvers or that there is an unexploded Nazi ordnance in the water. Just do it. No ships or boats are to go in or out until I get there."

The phone line was suddenly quiet. This caused Smith to state smoothly, "I wonder what the newspapers would say if I told them the truth about 'that little accident' of yours during the war?"

Smith nodded, "Yes, of course, friendly fire was part and parcel then. All of that would be acceptable if the one who commanded the barrage that killed so many innocent civilians were not drunk at the time. Hum, I thought so. Now you have a day to set everything up before they get there." Smith became angry, "You don't have to know who or why. Just do as I say and stop them."

Smith brightened and became the epitome of magnanimity, "Thank you, sir. I appreciate your cooperation."

He hung up, and a huge beaming smile spread across his lips, "There, I would like to see Carter get past a military blockade to find that clue, especially now that their speedboat was blown up."

Hodge whistled, impressed at his boss's high-level connections.

Smug, Smith took out a new cigar from his blazer's side pocket and lit it. After taking a quick suck on it, he blew out the smoke, "Now I am going to catch a flight to Malta. You stay here, Hodge. I don't care how you do it. Just get this ship off to Ephesus, Turkey, as soon as possible."

Hodge frowned, "Why not meet you in Malta?"

Grinning wryly, Smith explained, "I trust that the British armada will do its job admirably. Besides, with this boat needing so many repairs, it makes more sense for you to meet us at the Temple of Artemis. Once I get the clue, I'll radio you if you should head toward the Hanging Gardens instead."

Hodge's toothy smile was not as generous as his bosses when he asked, "So, get to Ephesus by any means necessary?"

Smith glanced at Hodge's chafed, raw knuckles, "Just leave enough crew to power this wreck."

His second nodded. Smith smirked and added, "The Professor and I will take the dinghy ashore."

Smith stared at Professor Spencer, who did his best to blend in with the shadows. It seemed his earlier 'little' talk with the Professor had taken some of the defiance out of the older man.

Noticing Spencer's reluctance to follow, Smith tried on his most reassuring smile. It hardly matched his cold, calculating eyes, "Come along, Professor. I will need you to find the next clue at the docks in Cospicua."

Worriedly, Spencer slunk after his new master, wondering if he had chosen the wrong devil to make a bargain with.

Hodge guffawed at Spencer's cowering form, and then he got to work on getting the engines fixed as soon as possible.

Yet again, the occupants of Howard's yacht used the long-distance traveling to convalesce. While a bedridden Dmitri healed with a vigilant Zdenka by his side, Peggy brooded. Knowing it was best to leave her alone, Howard and Jarvis tried to reverse engineer the robot parts from the Lindos adventure.

That night a jubilant Zdenka called everyone to the dining room. Papers were strewn about the large table, as well as a map of the Mediterranean Sea.

Glancing at those gathered, Peggy did not see the male Russian, and she wondered how Dmitri was faring. She was about to ask Zdenka when she heard the steady clomp of a cane. Sure enough, Dmitri entered the room and slowly approached them.

Peggy winced as she quickly assessed his injuries. Half of his face was a swollen bruise. His left eye was practically sealed shut. How he could even walk, let alone stand, was beyond her.

He brushed aside Jarvis' offer of help and determinedly hobbled over to sit next to the worried Zdenka.

Peggy snorted at his stubborn resolve and now understood why her friends always got exasperated with her when she was also in an injured state. But she also knew that, like herself, Dmitri would never want to be mollycoddled.

"Alright, what do you have for us, Zdenka?" Peggy asked.

Attention diverted from her colleague, Zdenka smiled at them, pleased, "I have decoded the Tanis clue and can now decipher these odd hatch marks. Unfortunately, these non-typical Cuneiform symbols were difficult to unlock. This means they could be something similar to what I suggest." She took in their expectant stares and continued, "So it looks as if the category we are dealing with are descriptions and not names of cities or people."

Howard sat forward and practically begged, "Well, don't leave us in suspense, Dr. Z."

Peggy heard Zdenka's sigh of exasperation at Howard's nickname and chuckled. So as not to ruffle any more feathers, the SSR Agent explained, "Nicknames are a form of endearment for Howard, Doctor."

The female Russian looked as if she would tolerate it, but barely. She then nudged over the etchings that had come from the pyramids. There were scribble marks next to them, "The clue at Giza could be saying 'Cataclysm' or 'blood-red.'"

Grimacing, Peggy thought that sounded rather ominous.

Zdenka pursed her lips as she studied the markings around Zeus' frame from the Pharos Lighthouse, "And I think this one says 'Vast.'"

Howard barked out a laugh, "Clues? They sound more like newspaper headlines."

Ignoring his rebuke, Peggy asked, "And at Zeus?"

Sighing, Zdenka declared, "Possibly 'Thin.'"

Raising an eyebrow, Howard sneered, "What the hell does that even mean?"

A more sympathetic Jarvis asked, "And the last one?"

Unsure, Zdenka exhaled, "Perhaps' Spine.'"

Peggy breathed out in frustration, "None of those make any sense."

Zdenka hesitated and then pointed to the large map of the Mediterranean Sea. "Well, these descriptive clues could allude to anything, even historical facts or records."

Sensing that Zdenka had her own theory, they all looked at her expectantly. Nodding, the female Russian added, "I believe this confirms the link to the Sea People." Her hand swept the area above Egypt and across the eastern region near Syria. It then stopped and hovered over Turkey. "Blood red and vast. To me, this is a description of their attack."

Scowling, Peggy stated, "That seems like a pretty big supposition. Why have us finding the clues in a specific order if it was just to boast about their exploits?"

Zdenka shrugged, "True, but what else could they mean?"

The others silently pondered her words.

Staring at the map, Peggy considered the clues they had just been given. Lightly snorting to herself, she stated, "No offense, but it is easy to become myopic when you've already made up your mind, Doctor. I do not believe these clues are a history lesson or a boast."

Arms crossed, Zdenka looked at her intently. Confident, Peggy continued, "I think they are a treasure map to what these Sea People want us to find." She clocked their intrigued expressions and added, "Like most of us who give directions, do you do it by street names or instead by landmarks?"

"Yeah, Peg, you got a point," Howard nodded, grinning. He then stood and leaned over the map, "But where do we start? Would it even be in this area?" His index finger circled the gigantic expanse of the Mediterranean Sea.

Peggy thought a moment, but Dmitri supplied the answer, "It should, though. That is where all the Wonders are located."

Smirking, Peggy agreed. Her eyes then rested upon the Cyclades Islands, "If what my prep school taught me was correct, long ago, there was a massive cataclysm that happened in this very sea. And we had already been there." Her finger tapped the crater-shaped island of Santorini, Greece.

Zdenka frowned and then stated, "Thera?"

Warming up to the idea, Jarvis suggested, "And blood red could be referring to the color of the erupting volcanoes magma."

Nodding, Zdenka admitted, "Perhaps, but what about 'Vast?'"

Shaking his head, Dmitri mentioned, "At one point last night, you mentioned that it could also mean 'Hole or Expanse.'"

She looked at him incredulously, "I thought you were asleep?"

Sheepishly he muttered, "You mumble rather loudly when you work."

Zdenka smiled, "Yes, and then I discounted that because I had already assumed it to be about the Sea People." Sighing, she looked to Peggy, "There could be some credence to what you suggest."

A frowning Peggy asked, "Well, what of 'Thin?'"

Their eyes scanned the map, and then, Howard yelled, enthused. His finger jabbed the narrow passageway between Spain and Morocco so hard Peggy thought it might stab through the map, "I bet they mean the Strait of Gibraltar. See, that's the thinnest part of the sea."

"So they want us to leave the Mediterranean area?" Jarvis asked, mystified.

"Looks like it, pal," Howard slapped Jarvis solidly on the shoulders, which caused the manservant to cough.

Peggy shook her head at the millionaire. She focused once more on Zdenka, "Are you sure the last clue said 'Spine?'"

The female Russian pursed her lips, unsure, "I think so. Hopefully, the Malta clue will help clarify what it could mean."

Howard scowled at the map, his finger now rubbing up and down the middle of the Atlantic, "Maybe it means some undiscovered island that looks like a spine? Or it's below the water's surface. We have yet to know what lies under much of the ocean. Well, anyway, this is a great start."

He grinned at the others, and they all smiled back in return.

With everyone now too geared up to sleep, Howard proposed, "I think this all calls for a celebration."

No one declined, and soon drinks were flowing, and the revelry began.

Pleased, Peggy gladly took the offered whisky that Howard handed her. Thankfully, things were finally going in their favor for once, and she joined in the toast that the millionaire immediately proposed.

By the following morning, Howard's yacht had reached the outskirts of the Southernmost port of La Valletta, the Grand Harbour of Malta.

And they had to come to a dead stop.

Insisting on not being excluded, Jarvis helped the still sore and healing Dmitri out of bed. Now the five of them stood on deck and gazed out at their newest problem.

Using binoculars, they studied the long naval blockade a few miles away from them. They had to anchor at such a distance, or they would have certainly been spotted. Gazing at the lineup of large vessels, it appeared that no boats were allowed entry into Malta's main harbor, nor were any permitted to leave.

Peggy spied through the lenses the fishing trolleys that bobbed in the water below these behemoth warships. With fists waving, the fisherman demanded to be let back into the harbor with what they had caught earlier that morning. The Maltese citizens spat ineffectually at the British Royal Navy warships. No matter how much these men protested, they were ignored.

"Why do I have a sinking feeling that Smith put the fleet up to this," Peggy growled to her friends.

"You think he has that much power?" Howard asked, concerned.

Glumly, Dmitri stated, "Yes, I have heard that Agent Smith had risen through the governmental ranks not by accolades but by the secrets he knew about those in his way."

Catching her friend's stricken grimace, Peggy assured the millionaire, "I wouldn't worry that your taxes will be audited because of him, Howard. But it is troublesome that an American would have enough influence to get the British Royal Navy involved."

Sighing, she added, "Regardless if he caused this or not, they won't let anyone through."

Peggy imagined that Malta's self-governing body was rather upset that the British Navy blockaded them. It would be too much of a reminder of the costly attacks against them from just a few years back by their enemies.

During the war, the tiny, strategically important island had valiantly stood against multiple oppressive attacks by the Axis powers. But they had paid dearly for their defiance. All the docks and military installations around the main port had been savagely bombed for over two years by Mussolini's Italian Royal Air Force.

She remembered seeing the photographs of all the devastation the enemies had done to this island that was so important to the British war effort. It was a testament to the Maltese citizens who had braved that constant barrage and survived.

But sadly, many inhabitants had died, and most of the infrastructure had been destroyed by the constant shelling. Peggy imagined that there was still a lot of damage throughout the island that had yet to be restored.

Frowning, Peggy studied the coastline behind the massive HMS Naval vessels. At the wide mouth of the main harbor, two large fortifications stood sentry on either side of the opening. Their bold beige color looked spectacular against the darker blue hues of the water.

Past these battlements, the port and land looked like splayed fingers flexed outwards. Unfortunately, where they needed to go was tucked very deep into the webbing of that hand.

Howard gauged the size of the naval ships and quipped, "Maybe I can sink one of them."

His offhanded comment snapped Peggy out of her analysis. Tiredly, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Howard, I am not going to declare war on the British Admiralty."

Zdenka dipped her chin at the blockade, "Too bad we no longer have the speedboat. It might have been able to get past them in one piece."

Dmitri shrugged, "If not, it would have made a great diversion."

Howard patted the side of his yacht affectionately, "I wish they were letting boats in. We might have been able to disguise baby as a fishing trawler."

Peggy gave Howard the side-eye. She rather doubted his massive luxury yacht could ever be mistaken for that no matter how much they dressed it up. It was just as well. She did not want the smell of fish to permeate her belongings.

Arms crossing his chest, Jarvis declared, "Well, they can't stay there forever."

Through a pained grimace, Dmitri said, "No, but they can delay us long enough for the CIA's warship to arrive."

Howard leaned on the railing and stared below, "Damn, can we swim past the blockade? Or how about under it?"

Peggy supplied, "Regardless of the distance needed to travel, the sea is too rough to reach the land by swimming. And even if we used your specialized air tanks, I do not have the stamina to go that far."

Howard snapped his fingers. "I know. We can take the STUB to the docks."

Everyone on the deck chorused a confused, "What?"

Shrugging, Howard explained, "That old Hydra sub down in the lab. Well, that's what I call the new Stark Submersible, STUB. Catchy, huh?"

As the others shook their heads at the name, Peggy thought about his suggestion. Though it was a good idea, there was still one major hurdle to overcome. She asked, "But what about the Navy's sonar capabilities? They would spot STUB and know it was not a passing school of fish. One depth charge, and there goes your so-called catchy name to the bottom of the sea."

Howard rubbed his chin as he contemplated her words, "Hum… that's right, sonar bounces off any underwater object. I know, we can put some sort of disguise on it that refracts the sound to form a certain pattern, like the shape of a whale or something."

Jarvis replied, "Do they even have whales in the Mediterranean?"

Not doing well to mask his irritation, Howard snapped, "Well, what else is big enough to be the size of the sub?" He clapped his hands together, "Hey, how about Nessie?"

Peggy could not hide the mirth in her voice, "You want to fabricate a myth? As if that wouldn't call more attention to us."

Zdenka supplied, "Why not a large marlin or shark."

All nodded in agreement. "Perfect."

Peggy stated, "Right, let's do it."

In moments, all five were huddled down in Howard's lab as they figured out how to bring their plans to fruition. Dmitri stayed out of their way, resting on a nearby chair. As they scribbled down designs, the Russian agent would throw out a suggestion or assurance now and then.

After a few sketches ended up as wadded pieces of paper, they finally came upon a concept they could construct in such a short time frame.

So, by using copious amounts of aluminum sheets and tin foil (that, of course, Howard had on hand, the man never threw anything away), they toiled until the submersible resembled a big reflective fish. Finished, they all looked at it askew.

"My, the poor thing looks ill. Hopefully, they will not take pity on it and blow it out of the water," Zdenka commented.

Ignoring her criticism, Howard draped his arm over Jarvis' shoulders, "Alright, so Jarvis and I—"

Peggy nearly stamped her foot through the hull in protest. Adamant, she stated, "Howard, you are not going."

He shook his head, "I have to drive the sub, Peg. And you are too banged up as it is to go."

Smirking, she rested her hands on her hips, "I'm hardly 'banged up,' as you put it. And I am sure I can manage this thing." Before he could indignantly interrupt her, she added, "Howard, whoever is running these tests has thrown many nasty surprises at us. Therefore, I feel that it is best if you stay here and help us remotely." Her voice became soft to counter the scowl her friend was aiming her way, "Besides, this is my job, Howard, not yours."

Now it was his turn to be stubborn, "Peg, nothing is gonna happen—"

She almost smacked him but let her affronted voice do the work, "Hush right there, Howard Stark, and don't you jinx this." She muttered to herself, "Lord, I can't believe how superstitious I have become."

Jarvis grumbled, "With our luck, we would procure a Gremlin along the way."

After a chuckle, Peggy said, "Well, I best prepare."

"I will be accompanying you, Miss Carter," Jarvis stoically stated. "As I have already proven, I can pilot the sub for you."

Peggy was about to argue, but she recognized the stubborn set of his chin. She often wore the same one herself. And honestly, Jarvis was always good in a pinch, she reminded herself. She would not trust any other to guard her back when out in the field.

"Alright, then shall we." She went to climb the stairs to retrieve her swimsuit when Howard handed her an attractive one-piece bathing suit that even she would deem to wear. She smiled, "Thank you, Howard. This is perfect."

Howard grinned, "That's me, Mr. Compromise."

Her reply was an inelegant snort, and she headed behind the privacy screen.

As Jarvis left to put on his swimming attire, Howard stocked the STUB with scuba gear.

Afterwards, he then turned his attention to the front of the sub.

That was where the large scanner was now secured. Due to the distance between the sub and the yacht, Howard added an amplifier next to it. But even he wasn't too sure about the range of the boosted signal. Hopefully, the image will not be too grainy.

Turning the mechanism on, Howard scowled when the device's screen did not flicker to life. It took a professional whack or two, but it finally buzzed on. The machine was a bit wonky with all the abuse it had taken on this adventure. After detaching the monitor from the scanner, he set it up in the back compartment where Peggy would sit. This way, she can observe while Jarvis focused on piloting.

When Peggy emerged from the privacy screen, a scuba suit was waiting for her. Howard explained, "It never hurts to be prepared in case you have to evacuate. I also placed a mask and regulator under the seat for you."

She eyed the rubber suits with trepidation, "Not again, Howard." Though the last one had saved her life, it had also put them in jeopardy.

"It's just an ordinary scuba suit, Peg, nothing fancy. Those others were the only prototypes I had," he frowned when her castigating gaze became one of relief.

"Thank you, Howard," she replied sincerely.

She then nodded toward the dismantled robot parts on the work desk.

Howard grimaced, "Unfortunately, other than being an amazing piece of technology, I found nothing on how to stop them. So far, Dmitri's method of short-circuiting them is the best chance. That means is difficult though because the wiring is well protected within its metal chassis."

"Well, thanks for giving it your all, Howard."

Once Peggy and Jarvis had gotten attired in the standard rubber suits, they climbed into the two-seater submersible. Jarvis took the front where the controls were and began to power up the atrociously disguised transport.

As Peggy began strapping in, Howard leaned over and explained, "This is only in case you need to take the throttle, Peg. Hopefully, that won't be the case. Now the controls are simple enough—"

"I appreciate your confidence in me, Howard," she sarcastically drawled.

A smile quirked his lips, "They are just like those little intuitive motorized cars you test-drove last month."

She nodded, remembering, "Oh, those cute mini Stark-carts."

"Well, glad you thought they were cute," he said wryly. "And Peg, please call those smart vehicles by their true name, the SMARK." On her glare, he coughed and then continued, "Anyway, this is the same design."

Before he could rattle off the obvious, she said irritably, "Yes, yes. Thank you, Howard. Time is the essence and all that."

He sighed at her flippant answer, "You really need to do something about this impatience of yours, pal."

Exhaling, she motioned for him to get on with it, and he pointed to the monitor in front of her. "Alright, the scanner is all set for you to use. Just point and click. And please go easy with this one. We are running out of replacement parts."

Peggy grinned at him, "But you thrive on challenges, Howard."

As the canopy closed over Peggy and Jarvis, the millionaire inventor chirped, "You've even destroyed most of that too, pal."

While they buckled up, Peggy stuck her tongue out at Howard, which earned her a chuckle.

Then using the hoist mechanism, Howard swung the transport over the open portal of water and stated, "Go have fun, you crazy kids."

Jarvis stated glibly over his shoulder to Peggy, "If I did not know any better, I would say that you two were married, or worse, siblings."

Peggy laughed at the derision in his tone.

All joking aside, Jarvis released the hook holding the submersible, and they dropped into the water with a splash.

Bobbing on the surface, Peggy saw that Zdenka and Dmitri watched them apprehensively. Howard jauntily waved at them.

After Jarvis toggled a lever downwards, the sub began to sink into the depths of the vibrant blue waters. Even as the amazing tranquil cerulean hues changed in intensity, Peggy wondered what sort of trouble awaited them at the docks.

Finally, they had settled far enough below. Jarvis flicked a switch on the control panel, and the motor hummed on. Just before the propellers began to spin, Peggy swore she heard him mutter under his breath, "Once more unto the breach—" and then he pushed the throttle forward.

The submersible moved ahead slowly, and Peggy rolled her eyes. At this conservative pace, they wouldn't reach their destination for years. She didn't want to sound snippy, so she mentioned as calmly as possible, "Mr. Jarvis, it won't break if you decide to go faster."

Peggy heard Jarvis loudly sigh, "No, but our 'disguise' might." He then nodded and said, "Alright, hold on."

She did, and Jarvis goosed the engine. They went a bit faster. Curbing her irritation, Peggy reminded herself that they could not go faster than a fish until after they had 'swum' under the blockade. The Royal Navy might suspect if they saw a fish scooting along at a quick clip, but still, the lax pace was most maddening.

From the part of the canopy windows they had left uncovered, Peggy watched as they approached the thick-lined hulls of the naval ships. The low sonar sound of a PING was heard coming from the largest warship ahead.

Unsure what the sonar could pick up, Peggy whispered, "Maybe lazily zig-zag a bit like a fish, Mr. Jarvis. That might help fool them."

Jarvis's answer was to jerk his head up and down nervously.

Getting closer to the lead naval vessel, she heard the sonar pulse getting louder as it pinged against their disguised sub.

So as not to alert the ship above, Peggy and Jarvis stayed absolutely quiet.

Slowly the camouflaged sub crawled under the immense vessel. It felt like forever before they had finally reached the other side safely.

Once they were far enough away, they both let out their collective breaths and settled back into their seats.

Finally, the sound of 'pinging' had dissipated to the point of being nonexistent. Now all clear, Jarvis pushed the throttle forward, and they sped toward Malta faster.

Peggy radioed Howard, "We are through the blockade safely. Any problems topside?"

Howard's voice crackled over the receiver, "No, looks pretty quiet. Let us know when you get there."

"10-4." And they went back to radio silence.

A troubled Peggy still expected the Navy to start bombing them, but thankfully they made it into the Grand Harbour undetected.

As they passed Fort St Elmo that loomed above on one of the cliffs, they noticed that multiple expensive boats were bottled up at the mouth of the bay above them. No doubt these vacationer's holiday plans were ruined because of the blockade.

Studying the crude map Zdenka had drawn for them, Peggy informed Jarvis, "The docks should be located deep between the third finger of the harbor."

She heard the smile in Jarvis's voice, "We are looking for the middle finger, you say? I see that your navigational skills are on par with Mr. Stark's."

"I should hope not. That man would get lost in his own mansion."

Since they still had to stay far below sea level, Jarvis had to slow down, or he would risk ramming them into the stacks of debris that still littered the floor of the Grand Harbour. Due to all the bombing that the Axis Powers had done to this tiny island, he had to steer around the many sunken ships and other dangerous obstacles.

Trying not to think of all those that had perished, Peggy counted the inlets. Finally, they reached the third opening, and she stated, "Ah, here we are."

To the left was a large docking area, and Jarvis swung the sub in that direction.

Peggy craned her neck as they entered the causeway that led to the city of Cospicua, "Alright, we are looking for Docking Area 1."

Jarvis piloted them further along the waterfront. It was a long stretch of docks, and Peggy was happy that they did not have to check all of them out. It would have taken forever.

Slowly they motored along until they reached the end of the inlet, and she said, "This should be it."

Jarvis agreed and turned them toward the wooden docks. Slowly they puttered forward and many of the berths were empty. Peggy figured they were for the fishing trolleys that were still trapped outside of the armada.

To reach the wall, Jarvis had to wind the sub around the multiple rotting pier pilings and posts carefully. Peggy shook her head at how old and damaged the wooden sections were. Between the war and age, she was surprised that it was still standing.

She pressed the button as they neared the back stone wall that the wooden docks were attached to. The scanner hooked in front of the sub hummed on. As it warmed up, she radioed to the yacht, "Are you getting the signal, Howard?"

"Well enough," he grumbled.

Peggy could easily hear the disappointment in his voice. Due to the distance between them, the visual must not be as clear as it usually was.

Eventually, they made it to the multitude of old marble blocks from the Mausoleum. They were stretched along the entirety of the massive wall that was well over a mile in length.

"My, there certainly are a lot of berths to check," Jarvis muttered. "This will take some time."

"Due to the number seven always being constant, perhaps we should start at the 7th one first?" Peggy suggested.

"Can't hurt, Peg," Howard replied.

Cautiously, Jarvis maneuvered them to the left. Halting at the 7th berth, they let the scanner do its thing.

On Peggy's small monitor, she saw nothing, and they waited for Howard to verify this.

Howard answered crisply, "No, keep moving."

Slowly the sub sank in front of the stone blocks as they were scanned. When that entire column was completed, Peggy frowned.

"Rats," Howard growled.

"Well, it was worth a try," Jarvis said.

Zdenka murmured, "Support ancient arms? How could that be used to find this clue?"

"Don't know. Sorry, you best start at the beginning, guys," Howard suggested.

Without a word, Jarvis took them back to the first berth, and they began. Nothing showed up as they descended.

Jarvis then warily glided around the decaying mooring to the next section to save time. From the lower depths, he then raised them in hopes of recording the clue. Still, the scanner did not pick up anything. So using this same methodology, they continued going to each berth.

Soon Peggy found that this technique was taking longer than she thought it should. The area they had to cover was much larger than they had first anticipated. And it did not help that the deeper they went, the murkier the water became. So as not to miss anything, this further slowed them down. Hours passed, and still, they had not found what they were looking for.

Unfortunately, being cooped up with recycled air and the need to stay continually focused on the small monitor had Peggy developing a magnificent headache. In hoping for relief, she stretched out her neck and rubbed it so hard that the bones shifted.

By now, they must have scanned most of Docking Area 1. Frustrated, Peggy hoped they would find the clue soon, or she would push open the canopy and risk drowning just to escape the monotony.

When they were halfway down another section of stone blocks, they finally heard Howard's exclaimed exhilaration. Grinning, Jarvis stopped the sub. It was faint, but Peggy could see it on the monitor. She exhaled, relieved, "There, there it is."

The excitement in Zdenka's voice was palpable. "And it is still legible. I had been concerned because of the salt water, but there it is."

Without the aid of the enhanced monitor, Jarvis tilted his head as he squinted at the blocks in front of him, "So, it's the remaining piece?"

Zdenka confirmed, "Yes, it says what to look for at the Temple of Artemis as well as the rest of the cuneiform clue."

"Alright, so we can go now?" Peggy asked hopefully.

Howard said cheerfully, "I'm about to pop the cork on the bubbly. Hurry back!"

"Well, that wasn't so bad—" Jarvis stated.

He was turning the sub around to head back when Peggy admonished, "Mr. Jarvis, please. You are as bad as your employer. Wait until we are safely back—"

Suddenly, something massive brushed against the sub, jostling them.

"What was that?" Peggy asked worriedly as she tried to look past the tinfoil covering most of the canopy's window. "Did you hit something?"

Jarvis retorted, "Of course not. Something—"

An immense object abruptly slammed into their small vessel. The hit was so powerful that the tiny sub was instantly flung toward the nearest rotting pier pilings.

Jarvis tried to get the sub under control, but he couldn't slow them down. They were going to crash into the docks.

As they both screamed in terror, Peggy braced for the collision. This was going to hurt.