The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A dense layer of fog clings to a neglected Olympic-sized swimming pool, the still air heavy with the smell of chlorine and mildew. Umm, the sound of dripping water echoes off the concrete surroundings, somehow in sync with the distant rumble of thunder. A small, apparently intact, World War II-era submarine lies at the bottom of the pool, its periscope tangled in the diving board's rusty springs, as if it had simply sunk there instead of in the ocean. Rain begins to fall gently from the overcast sky above, disturbing the pool's glassy surface.