![]() ![]() Unfortunately, Mom and Dad weren't with us. That was why we were packed like sardines in the DSV. We still needed Storm's photographic memory if we wanted to go back to the pair of sunken Spanish galleons off the coast of Florida that our father, the world-famous treasure hunter Dr. See, Storm doesn't dive, because the last time she climbed into a rubber scuba suit, some mean old geezer on a yacht called her a "shrink-wrapped whale." Obviously, that little comment wasn't his best idea, because the next time he went to take his fancy yacht for a spin, the fish-head-in-your-bedsheets smell was getting pretty bad. My big sister, Storm, was convinced we needed the submarine to help us in our continuing quest to bring home the two most important treasures in the world: our missing mom and dad. We'd purchased it at an auction with the half-million-dollar reward we collected on our last adventure. The four of us were crammed inside a twoperson mini-sub (what the US Navy calls a DSV, or Deep Submergence Vehicle), our newest piece of high-tech treasure-hunting gear. All my life, we Kidds have lived on the sea. ![]()
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