Jack reached the large table and lifted as much as he could, but one corner had been blown off its mountings and had sunk deep into the deck where water was oozing around the steel frame. Then another loud groaning sound was heard as Teacher suddenly shifted and then listed crazily ten more degrees, making the weight of the table shift just enough for Carl to hurriedly pull his legs free.
"Drop it!" he yelled as he backed his way to the bulkhead.
Jack let go of the heavy table and jumped back quickly onto dry, nonconductive floor as it shorted out when the electronic package hit the puddle of water. Then he began to make his way toward Carl, when he heard pounding coming from the closed hatchway behind him.
"The lounge, Jack. There's people trapped in there!" Carl said as he struggled to his feet by himself. Jack splashed to the door as the incoming water beneath the table rapidly spread.
A woman's hand was pounding at the port glass set inside the aluminum door. Jack saw it was Virginia; on the other side of the door, the water was lapping at her chin. Caught in the crook of her arm was the master chief, just barely keeping his head above the surface.
"Carl, make your way into the cockpit and get ready to slam that door," the major yelled over his shoulder. "I have an idea. Call engineering and see if the engines are still above the waterline."
Carl limped as fast as he could toward the cockpit and tried the intercom on the bulkhead. It started shorting out as soon as he hit the plastic button. On the overhead speakers he could barely make out a shouting voice; he thought it might be Will Mendenhall, but he wasn't sure. Then the intercom shorted out one last time and died. All he knew now was someone was alive back there and hadn't drowned yet. He quickly looked out of the cockpit and saw that the nose of Teacher was starting to rise out of the water.
"Jack, were going down. I don't know if it's the stern or if we have so much flooding amidships that she's bending at her gaskets!"
Jack thought he heard Carl hollering but ignored it as he fought with the latch for the lounge section. Virginia was pushed aside and then the master chief's angry face appeared at the glass. He was shaking his head no and pointing behind Jack, who could barely make out Jenks's voice as he shouted, "Beach her!" The old seaman quickly pointed at the hole the explosion had made and made a swimming motion. Jack finally understood: the survivors in the lounge should escape through the damaged section and swim for it. He grimaced, not liking the plan, but the master chief was right; he wouldn't be able to close the hatch because of the pressure of the water behind it, and, even if he could open it, the cockpit would be flooded and that would ensure that Teacher foundered. He quickly turned away and started for the cockpit.
* * *
"You and Ellenshaw swim for the breach, Frenchie," the master chief yelled at Danielle. The professor was having a hard time keeping his head above water, but obeyed. "Okay, sweet cheeks," Jenks winked at Virginia, "I hope you can hold your breath, because this section is now below the surface of the lagoon and she's bending like a fishing pole!"
"I'm not going without you, Jenks," Virginia said, taking a mouthful of water as her reward for speaking.
"You watch too many movies; I'm not the hero type. Follow me, doll," he ordered, as he dove under just as the flooding reached the overhead lights, shorting them out and sending a cascade of sparks over the surface of the undulating water.
Virginia dove with the master chief. She accidentally took in another mouthful of foul-tasting water when she ran into the torn body of Professor Keating. Then she shoved him out of the way and swam, trying desperately to get out of the nightmare she now found herself in.
* * *
Jack pushed past Carl, who was leaning heavily on the bulkhead and trying to figure out what Jack was doing.
"What about those people?" Carl yelled, pointing toward the flooded lounge.
"They're going out another way. The chief said for us to beach Teacher before she founders." Jack reached for the start switch and prayed the engine would fire. As he turned it, he heard a soft rumble course through Teacher and he throttled her forward. She was heavy as at least one, maybe two, or even three sections were fully flooded. Then he tried to turn her by using the rudder control on the armrest. Nothing happened; Teacher continued straight on toward the right side of the falls.
"She's not turning!" Jack said frustratedly as he again pulled the hand toggle to the left but Teacher continued going right.
"The main jets must have been damaged; they're frozen in position. We've got to get this thing grounded somewhere, Jack."
The major thought quickly. "The mine! We can get her into the mine and beach her there, it's our only chance!"
"Shit," Carl exclaimed as he rolled into the copilot's chair and quickly buckled his harness. "Go, Jack, go," he yelled as he braced himself against the glass.
Jack pushed the throttle all the way to its stops and Teacher struggled forward, her midsection below water and her aft end sticking up, her water jets and damaged rudder barely beneath the surface. He had a hard time seeing, as the boat was bowing up at both ends. Teacher started to gather forward momentum and Jack felt her start leaning to the right as the water in her flooded sections shifted.
"Oh, shit; can you at least center her with the middle of the falls?" Everett asked as calmly as he could.
"We have no steering at all!"
Jack pulled back the throttles but it was too late. Teacher was under the crushing falls, and the weight and fierceness of the water forced her nose down beneath the foaming tumult. Then they felt the impact as Teacher slammed into the outside wall of the cave opening, tearing the right-side cockpit glass away and sending a ton of water into the bridge, hitting Carl so hard it momentarily stunned him. Suddenly there was a wrenching impact abovedecks as the mainmast was torn out of its mountings. Jack could only pray that there had been no one on or near it. The fall of the tower was heard as it struck the upper deck of the last five sections, ripping a massive gash in the superstructure as the weight of the aluminum tower rocked her from side to side. Then Teacher shot through the falls and into the dark interior of the mine. She immediately rammed the solid rock wall inside the cave, tearing a section fifty feet long along her right side.
Jack felt the engine go, and then the control panel in front of him went with a shower of sparks. Still, by sheer momentum alone, Teacher sped along through the opening, hitting the stone wall again, knocking Jack into the center console. Then he felt the keel strike solid bottom and her nose rose into the air as Teacher hit the first of the stone steps on the right side of the ancient dock. She glanced off at first and then the weight of her flooded sections turned her again, slamming her bottom into the steps. This time her momentum sent her violently up and out of the water. For a moment Jack thought the twenty-one-ton Teacher was going to shoot out over the top of the stone steps and onto the dock, but when she slammed back down she slid backward fifty feet to finally lodge onto the steps with only her stern section in the water.
"Oh, that's going to leave a mark," Carl said as he removed his harness.
Jack sat back to catch his breath; as he did, he felt a cool draft coming through the torn window frames on the right side.
"The chief and navy can take it out of my check," he said as he reached down and unbuckled his seat harness. "Come on, Commander Everett; let's see how many people I killed with my driving."
* * *
Farbeaux had just entered the falls when he heard the two explosions underwater. He dove deep until the water had calmed, and then he surfaced. Now he, Mendez, and the Colombian's fourteen men watched from above as the American boat came to rest on the steps that led from the canal at a point just beneath the mammoth statue. He gritted his teeth and knew exactly what had happened.
"When your man Rosolo arrives, I am going to kill him," he said as he slowly brought up a nine-millimeter pistol and pointed it at Mendez.
His men saw this and brought up their own weapons.
"Please, please," Mendez
said, holding his hands out from both sides of his rotund body. "There is no need for this. If my man Rosolo did this thing, you can have him, but we can only fail to do what we came here for if we can't think clearly," he lied. He turned to his men, "Lower your weapons. That is an order."
Farbeaux kept his pistol up. "You cannot tell me he acted without orders from his master."
"I believe killing them would have to have been done eventually. But I did not order it at this time. Besides, the Americans are finished; they will now be far too busy just surviving to interfere with us."
Farbeaux saw from their high vantage point that the American boat still had some power. He holstered his handgun and then reached down and picked up a small satchel, angrily kicking his wetsuit against his rebreathing unit.
"Follow me, and keep strict noise discipline until we are well within this upper shaft. No flashlights until I say so. I have to discover if we need to go down into the mine, or up."
As Farbeaux turned his back, Mendez sneered and then waved his men forward. Rosolo would have to find them on his own. But then again, if Mendez knew his man, he would finish the job he had started, possibly before he met up with them again.
For now, El Dorado waited and Mendez could not wait for his just rewards.
20
PANAMA CITY, PANAMA
Ryan took the offered phone from one of the Delta operatives who were now assigned as security for Operation Spoiled Sport.
"This is Ryan."
"Lieutenant, we've had a major problem with the expedition; they no longer appear to be in the lagoon. Boris and Natasha is picking up an empty space where Teacher had been. She also picked out those fifty-plus men making their way past the rapids. It looks like they intend to enter the lagoon. Listen, Mr. Ryan, Jack did manage to get the heat emitters placed before this happened, so you will have an illuminated target area. Is your team ready to deploy?" Niles asked.
"Sir, we really should consider sending our team in on the ground. There's glitch after glitch with this billion-dollar boondoggle."
"Get it to work, Ryan. The president says absolutely no ground incursion, so it's Spoiled Sport or nothing. We have got to keep this unknown ground element off their back."
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"Now look, CIA has confirmed that there are no Peruvian or Brazilian units out there, so they have to be bad guys headed their way. Zap 'em, Mr. Ryan, you hear me? Protect our people. Get in the air!" Niles hung up.
Ryan handed the phone back and looked at the Delta sergeant. And then he jumped when he heard an alarm sound. Two men ran up the stairway and into the converted 747, carrying fire extinguishers.
"Goddammit, what now?" he asked as smoke started billowing out of the large double doorway of the aircraft.
EVENT GROUP CENTER NELLIS AFB, NEVADA
Niles sat at his desk and rubbed his temples. He removed his glasses and then slammed his hand on the table.
"Are you sure you heard an explosion just before communications were lost?" Pete Golding asked.
Niles didn't look up. He just nodded, not caring to use his voice. He took a deep breath and shoved the still picture of the giant statue and its graffito-marked belly toward Pete, whose eyes widened.
"This whole thing is a hoax?" "Pete, we need Europa to do some digging, and I mean dig. Someone knows about Padilla's lagoon, and I want to know who lied to us and why. Can you help me?"
Pete studied the photo from Teacher once again and then something clicked in his mind about the familiar caption on the cartoon that everyone who had looked at the still had missed. He looked up. "Yeah, I can help."
"I have a man flying out to interview the lone survivor of the 1942 expedition. He should be able to at least tell us what it was they were after out there."
"Then let's get to it; we can cover a lot of ground until he checks in."
Niles jumped at the chance to be doing something, anything. But the feeling remained that an ancient trap had been set, and that Jack and the others had walked right into it.
* * *
Teacher was sitting high on the stone steps. Her flooded compartments were draining due to the fifty-degree lean to her port side as she had come to rest on the staircase. The towering statue loomed above the diminutive boat that lay broken at its feet.
The major crawled out of the cockpit through the broken windowframe and then helped Carl through. They climbed slowly down the nose and slid to the stone beneath. Jack turned on his flashlight and shined it around. Carl did the same as they hurried back toward the stern. Their light was seemingly absorbed by the blackness surrounding Teacher. As they looked around, an unfamiliar rustling noise sounded from what seemed a great distance, and could be heard even over the waterfall that fell in the center of the pyramid.
"What's that?" Everett asked as he shined his flashlight into the air.
"Uh-oh," Jack said.
Suddenly the air was alive around them. Giant bats had decided the intrusion of noise and vibration Teacher had made was quite enough. They swarmed like angry bees as they circled Jack and Carl, who dove for their lives, hitting the wet steps and covering their heads as bats grazed them in their frenzy. If just one of the large animals struck them solidly, it would have been bone crushing. Then as suddenly as the raid had started, the bats were gone.
"I can live without that!" Carl said as he stood up again. "Where did they go," he said as he shined his flashlight upward once more.
"The falls, I guess. There must be another opening up there that comes out through the river that creates the falls. Come on; let's get our people out of Teacher."
* * *
When Jack shined his light into the communications section, he saw that Stiles was on his feet, trying to revive the clearly unrevivable Jackson. He shook his head and moved on silently. Carl flashed his own light on the glass and looked in and cursed when he saw the dead navy man. He then followed Jack down the row of windows. No one appeared to be in the navigation section, as they suspected there wouldn't be. Then they came to the lounge. Their lights immediately picked out three bodies floating in the waist-high water. Jack recognized Keating immediately. He was floating faceup and was actually in a slow spin as the water drained from the damaged section. By the looks of his body he had been caught dead center of the explosion; his right arm was missing, and half of his head. Jack moved the light and saw that Dr. Waltrip was lying crumpled on top of Sergeant Larry Ito, who looked as if he had tried to shield her. But the explosion had killed them both. Jack swallowed hard when he didn't see Sarah. He hoped she was with the master chief and others who had made it out.
Carl looked inside the lounge and cried out when he saw the bodies. He shined the light around, hoping to see someone else, or someone breathing.
"We're one hell of a rescue team, Jack."
The major didn't respond. His light was now trained on the opening of the mine. The water churned and rolled in the violence of the falls, and in that maelstrom of foam he saw no one. The survivors from Teacher were alone and in the dark.
* * *
Sarah awoke and immediately started choking. She fought her way back through a dark unconsciousness that threatened to overwhelm her just like an induced coma. She rolled over and threw up a stomachful of water, then heaved and then vomited more foul-tasting fluid. She tried to push herself up from the overly hot and wet floor but fell back down. She knew she was hurt somewhere but couldn't for the life of her think straight enough to find out where. Then she pushed up again and collapsed, screaming in pain, when she realized her right wrist was broken. It was then that she thought clearly enough to remember it hadn't been broken in the initial violence of whatever it was that had happened in the boat; it had snapped as she was being pulled down through the water.
She used her other hand to push herself up off the hot stone. As she peered around in the darkness she could barely make out long, hot wisps of steam coming through the stone floor and the walls. Some strange luminescence wa
s also emanating from those walls, providing enough light that she could see her hand as she held it up, almost as if she were viewing things through the green-tinted lense of a night scope. She brought her wrist closer to her face; the damaged section was already swelling. It was broken, all right.
Then she noticed she could hear running water and smell fresh vegetation. Then she heard a hoarse growl. She shot back against a wall using her ass and good hand, the fingers of which touched an object not made of stone. She grasped it; it was a pole of some kind. But as she tried to use leverage against it to stand, it started to tilt off balance. She let go but too late, the pole crashed to the ground with a loud clang and the sound of breaking glass. She looked down and did a double take. Unless Padilla was centuries ahead of his time, someone had indeed beaten even Helen Zachary to El Dorado. Lying at her feet was a light stand. Old, rusty, and three legged, with six high-powered lamps. Her eyes followed a power cord to another stand, this one upright. The cord led from that to still another.
"What the…?" she mumbled as she saw in the unnatural green light that there were six stands in all. They had been arranged in a semicircle facing inward from the ninety-foot perimeter they had been placed in. Now the graffito picked up by the camera on Snoopy 3 was starting to make sense.
Sarah glanced around her but could see no generator that the light stands had been connected to. She followed one thick cable to a wall, and from there to an opening that was about seven feet in diameter. It looked as if it had been burrowed out of solid rock. She tentatively reached out with her foot and touched a raised step, then another and another. She slowly backed down the several steps she had taken, not knowing if she wanted to head that way in the darkness. At least here she had that strange phosphorescence to see by. Curious, she ran her hand along the wall and then brought it to her face. Her fingers were covered in some sort of natural tritium. Her entire hand glowed softly as she quickly wiped it on her pant leg.
Legend egt-2 Page 37