Legend egt-2

by David L. Golemon

  "I don't think they climbed any cliffs; the small tributary that is responsible for the falls ahead, the Santos Negron, is nothing but a hundred-milelong tributary that's not even that old. It was created by flooding no more than five years ago. I think Padilla stuck to this tributary; it had to have been the only natural one in existence five hundred years ago."

  "How did he and his people go forward, underwater?" Carl asked.

  "If not underwater, how about underground, or both?" Jack asked.

  Carl and Jenks didn't say anything; they looked straight ahead toward the expanse of ancient and man-made falls.

  "But what are the odds that these waters would have covered by accident the very route that Padilla took?"

  Jack turned to see Danielle Serrate standing behind him, leaning into the hatchway.

  "Fluke," Jack said. "The new tributary would run wherever rainfall had created a trough beyond where the Brazilian government had controlled the flooding. Once it reached this point in unsurveyed and unmapped land, they really didn't care what new tributaries were created."

  "I wouldn't care to wager the house on that," Danielle said. "Is that the American phrase, bet the house?"

  "Yeah, that's what they say, but that's exactly what I think we should do," Carl said as he took a firm hold on Snoopy's joystick and brought its nose up. The view on the monitor changed and the picture became brighter as the probe emerged from the murkiness of the bottom toward the surface. Jack patted Carl on the shoulder. Snoopy sped up east toward the falls that were now starting to rock the probe left to right with the turbulence of the falling water. Carl directed the probe ten feet deeper as it approached. The monitor was filled with white water and bubbles as the impact of the high-falling tributary struck the flat surface below it. Carl adjusted the trim and sent Snoopy ten feet deeper, still believing the impact of the water would be enough to damage the TRW probe. Suddenly Snoopy was into darker but calmer water, where it snagged on an obstruction as an alarm sounded on the console.

  "Whoa, cowboy, you rammed something. See if you can back her up some," Jenks said.

  "Chief, how close can you get to the falls?" Jack asked.

  "I can take her right under if I want; that little water hose of a falls couldn't dent this composite hull."

  On the monitor Snoopy had successfully backed away and rose by fifteen feet to the surface.

  "What is that stuff?" Danielle asked.

  The master chief fired up Teacher's engines and started edging the large boat toward the falling water.

  "It's bushes, water plants, and vines, a thick curtain of them," Carl described. "It's a wall of them behind the falls; Snoopy was stopped by them. Goddamn, you may be right, Jack."

  "Right about what, c'mon, what's he right about?" Jenks said as Teacher slowly drifted toward the turbulence of the water.

  "He thinks he knows where and at what point our intrepid Captain Padilla disappeared into history, Chief," Carl said as he brought Snoopy to the surface next to Teacher. "And look at the center there, it's been recently penetrated; see where a lot of new growth has occurred? I suspect that weakened area tells us that Professor Zachary has been this way also."

  "Ask Mendenhall to bring the probe aboard; she earned her keep," Jenks said.

  Jack ordered Snoopy brought aboard.

  "Well, I suppose you want me to take Teacher through there?" Jenks asked.

  "It would probably take us over a day to hack our way through there, maybe get a couple of people hurt seriously with that falling water," Jack said as he leaned in closer to view the falls ahead.

  "Wouldn't the vines and plants be more damaged if Professor Zachary had come this way less than three months ago?" Carl asked.

  "Bubba, this is South America; the growth rate of plants down here can be measured in minutes, not days or months," Jenks said.

  "Well, let's go then," Danielle urged.

  "Unless you don't think the old girl has the wherewithal to punch her way through it, Chief," Carl said without looking at Jenks.

  The master chief clamped his jaws down on his cigar. "You officers think you can play me like that? You think you can use that shit you learned at officers' school," he turned around and stared at Jack, "or West Point, in Psyops, to goad me into taking her through there?"

  "Not at all," Jack replied quietly.

  Jenks looked at his digital controls on the panel in front of him and said nothing. While the others thought he was thinking it over, he was actually figuring the stress tolerances of Teacher's composite hull. He was silent for two full minutes.

  "Major, Toad, get some help and lower the sail tower and jackstay; we're riding too damned high to get her through that opening. We're also going to put a lot of weight onto this girl's ass." The master chief saw the expressions of confusion from Jack and Danielle. "We have to take on one hell of a lot of ballast; we have to ride low, dangerously low, to get her through whatever that is up ahead," he explained. "And it's still no fucking guarantee we can do that. We may get through the opening and find a dead end fifty yards into it."

  "Or, on a brighter note," Carl said as he squeezed out of the copilot's chair, "we just may fall off the edge of the world."

  13

  Two hours had passed since the order was given to lower the radar tower and jackstay. Collins, Mendenhall, and Everett were on the upper deck of section four, bolting down the retractable tower that was now laying along two whole sections, while the rest of the crew was below making ready for a rough ride in case they ran into something other than a tunnel leading to the mysterious east end of the Rio Negro.

  Jack had been the first one to notice, but he kept working. It was Mendenhall who cleared his throat.

  "I see it, Sergeant," said Jack. "Just stay busy like you don't see them."

  "How long have they been there?" Carl asked as he lashed down his last tie to the tower.

  "About twenty minutes that I know of; wouldn't have noticed it at all if I hadn't caught the sun gleaming off their glasses."

  "With the tower down, so is our radar, so we won't be able to confirm who they are," Carl said, straightening.

  "Probably that boat and barge we saw on the river coming in this morning. Can't you feel our friend Farbeaux close by?"

  "I sure can," Mendenhall said.

  "Come on, let's get this show on the road," Jack said as he headed for the hatch.

  * * *

  "Stand by," Jenks said into the intercom as he fired up both of the Cummings diesels. "Is our board green, Toad?"

  Carl checked the status of all hatches and windows. The companionways in between sections all read green — closed and secured.

  "Board is green, Chief."

  "Major, pull down that jump seat in the aft bulkhead and strap yourself in; this could get bumpy and I don't need you in my lap at the wrong time," Jenks said as he lit his cigar and started Teacher forward toward the falls. "Everyone, strap in at whatever station you're at. You can follow our progress on the nose camera at the bow; it promises to be the must-watch TV show of the year." He laughed loudly as he throttled forward to two knots.

  In the sciences compartment, Sarah looked at Virginia and cringed. "That guy makes me a little nervous," she said.

  "A little?" Virginia asked.

  * * *

  "Here we go," the master chief said as he eased back on the twin throttles and let Teacher's forward momentum carry her into the falling water. Suddenly the boat rocked violently from side to side, just as Snoopy had done two hours earlier. The sound of water striking the hull was deafening, and all the while Jenks had a smile from ear to ear as he edged Teacher into the darkness.

  Carl reached out and flipped on the exterior running lights as water covered the acrylic windows in the bow. Jack flinched as the first of the water struck; he thought the nose glass would cave in. But the boat slid neatly through the falls. The roar slid down the entire length of Teacher as the crew felt every inch of her entry. Then the bushes and vines s
nagged her and she bounded to a stop. The chief bit down on his cigar and throttled her engines forward. Teacher lurched into the water plants and undergrowth, making a screeching sound as her hull came into contact.

  "There goes the paint job," Jenks said loudly as he goosed the engines again.

  "Low ceiling!" Carl called loudly above the din of water striking the hull.

  "Give us another three thousand pounds of ballast," calmly ordered the master chief.

  Carl turned on the ballast pumps. Although he couldn't hear them engage, he was satisfied as he saw on the digital readout that the distance between keel and the bottom was decreasing.

  "She's down a full three feet, Chief," Carl reported.

  Outside their windows the crew could see the greenish waters lapping six or seven inches above the sealed frames.

  Jenks applied more power as Teacher strained to break free of the under-growth. Her engines were churning up water as she struggled for momentum. "Going to fifty percent power, hang on!"

  Teacher seemed to be stuck in place. As they viewed the situation in their monitors, the crew each willed her either forward or for their pilot to back off.

  "Going to seventy-five percent power," Jenks called out and pushed the throttles forward to the three-quarters mark, but still the bushes, roots, and vines clung to the hull like tentacles of an octopus, refusing their advance.

  "Engines are overheating," Carl shouted.

  "No news is good news. Can that shit, mister, going to redline!" Jenks shoved the dual throttles all the way to their stops.

  * * *

  Strapped into their seats, Mendenhall and Shaw were standing by in the engine compartment, sweat rolling down their faces. The heat was overpowering the air-conditioning, and the section was slowly becoming unbearable. The diesels were so loud that the two men couldn't converse. Suddenly something popped and a small fire broke out as a gasket failed and diesel fuel sprayed out onto the deck.

  "Fire!" Mendenhall shouted but Shaw had his ears covered and couldn't hear him. The sergeant unsnapped his harness and ran for the fire extinguisher. He emptied the extinguisher, momentarily smothering the flames. Mendenhall threw away the empty and grabbed another, as the engines seemed to strain even louder as they went to full power.

  Suddenly and very slowly the vines started to separate with loud popping and tearing sounds. Still the master chief kept full power to the engines. Then all at once they were through. Outside the view ports of the cabin, they saw the vines and bushes suddenly slide by as Teacher was sling-shot into the giant cave. Her lights picked out rock walls and sides as she sped into the void.

  "Engine shutdown!" Jenks cried. "Toad, hit the forward jets, stop this goddamned thing before we slam into a wall!"

  Carl engaged the two forward water-jet thrusters and applied full throttle to them both. Teacher started to slow. Then before they knew it, the large boat was at a standstill. All was silent except for the forward thrusters. Carl reached out and shut them down. The voyagers found themselves in a giant cave sitting in the middle of a slow-moving underground grotto, with the river leading out to the east.

  "So this is the missing east end of the Rio Negro," Jack said as he reached for the intercom. "Okay everyone, we're through. Welcome to Captain Padilla's Black Water Tributary."

  * * *

  Before starting down the long corridor of darkness, Jenks inspected the engine room and declared engine number one down. He, Mendenhall, Shaw, and the amazingly and hereto unbeknownst mechanically inclined Professor Charles Hindershot Ellenshaw III, who volunteered his services in their capacity, began to change out the head gasket on number one and replace the fuel line that had split. They would run in the meantime on engine number two, as Jenks didn't think they would be calling for speed anytime soon. He inspected the rest of Teacher, and aside from a few rubber window gaskets that had leaked, she had come through the falls just fine. They were under way at five knots ten minutes later, still running low in the water through the blackness that engulfed the boat.

  * * *

  Farbeaux was amazed at what he had just witnessed through his glasses. That strange-looking craft actually went through the falls.

  "These people never cease to amaze me," he mumbled as he handed the field glasses back to the captain. "And to think our lady friend, Professor Zachary, also found it and made it through — surely we must respect them. Do you agree, senor?"

  "So, what do you plan to do?" Mendez asked annoyedly.

  "I expect we will wait for two hours, and in that time we will prepare to follow them. Captain, get your crew ready and let's cut the profile of the Rio Madonna down some so we may attempt to enter the cave; the barge is low in the water so should not pose a problem," Farbeaux said as he walked off the flying bridge.

  "Si, senor," the captain responded, and started shouting orders to his tenman crew.

  Mendez felt better that Farbeaux was taking such complete charge, it gave him the benefit of not having to coordinate the effort but still be critical if need be. He walked back to the fantail and sat down with Rosolo and his team of twelve bodyguards.

  Farbeaux walked to the port side of the Rio Madonna, stood by the gunwale, and lit a cigarette. He was getting an old familiar feeling that came upon him when things were not under his complete control. He felt there were more elements involved than he had accounted for. As he looked around the jungle surrounding them, he was starting to feel like a small piece of a much larger puzzle, a puzzle that could become very dangerous if he wasn't the one to figure it out first.

  EVENT GROUP COMPLEX NELLIS AFB, NEVADA

  There was a knock on Niles's door. He rubbed his eyes and looked over at his nightstand. It was only ten at night and that was when he realized he had fallen asleep in his clothes. He shook his head and reached for his glasses.

  "Yes?"

  "Sorry to disturb you, Niles, but you'd better see this, Boris and Natasha are now on the job and they caught something," Pete Golding said from outside the door to Niles's quarters.

  "It's open, Pete," he called out as he turned on the nightstand table light and put his stocking feet on the carpeted floor. He stood and made it over to his desk, where the day's paperwork still lay undone.

  Pete walked in, holding several pictures in his hand. "Your computer up?" he asked.

  "Yeah, why?"

  "Good, we won't have to use these wet stills, then."

  Pete stepped up to Niles's computer. He quickly typed in some commands and his security clearance, then he turned the monitor toward Niles.

  "These are only twenty minutes old and were taken on Boris and Natasha's first pass."

  Niles looked down at the monitor. It displayed a night shot that the KH-11 satellite had taken over its new position. He could see the river in dark relief, and then he spotted many small, glowing objects. The photo, obviously infrared, showed about fifty warm bodies moving along the river in the only section for thirty miles that had any clear opening through the massive canopy of trees.

  "Where are these people?" Niles asked.

  "The exact coordinates the major reported from this afternoon. Now, Jack says he suspected they were being trailed by a boat with a barge attached, which has disappeared, by the way, but he doesn't know anything about people on the ground. And look at this," Pete said as he typed in another command on the keyboard.

  The picture started to resize itself. White squares appeared upon white squares and they started to swirl. The picture had been enlarged by Natasha until Niles could clearly make out the men walking along the river in the dark.

  "Goddammit!"

  "Yeah, those are troops; you can even make out most of their equipment," Pete said.

  "Just who in the hell are we dealing with?"

  "Could be anyone, but my guess would be Peruvian, most likely," Pete ventured as he leaned back away from the picture he had been studying for the last hour.

  "For a goddamned secret valley, enough people seem to know about it,"
Niles said, rubbing a hand over his balding head. "We have to contact Jack."

  "We tried. There's nothing since Jack reported they were going into the cave."

  Niles slumped into his chair and pushed the daily reports away from him. "Contact Lieutenant Ryan," Niles said as he looked at his watch, "he and his twelve-man team should have arrived in Panama by now. Tell him Operation Conquistador is now on full alert."

  "You got it, Niles," Pete said as he gathered up his photos. Then he thought better of it and placed them back on the director's desk, and then left the room.

  Niles studied the monitor briefly and then pulled the topmost wet photo off the pile and stared at it. He hoped Jack would be able to make contact if and when they exited the cave. Because if they couldn't at least get a signal up and out to Boris and Natasha, they would be cut off with no chance of help arriving.

  As Niles contemplated the images, he knew there was a whole lot of trouble heading their way.

  Hell, he thought, also trouble from a source that was probably already there waiting for them, just as it had been for the Padilla and Zachary expeditions.

  14

  UNDERGROUND, BLACK WATER TRIBUTARY, BRAZIL

  Teacher was cruising in the dark at a revised three knots. Thus far they had been in the cave for three hours and had been amazed at the carvings they had documented that covered the rock walls — depictions of wild men in different hunting poses, Incan gods and warriors, and strange beasts and fish. Thus far they had cataloged three hundred different carvings. The work had been meticulously worked and showed in minute detail what life had been like for those who traveled the ancient tunnel before them.

  Carl was at the helm in the cockpit, kept company by Jack who assisted with fathom soundings and as a lookout for rock projections, which had nearly done them in twice. Teacher was still riding low in the water with the extra ballast they had taken on, as the roof was only ten feet above them and as low as a mere yard in some spots. Every once in a while they saw bats flutter in and out of the floodlights.