“Odd,” murmured Chen Jiang. “The steel plates of the hull and superstructure look scattered around the wreck. It looks as if the ship was burst apart.”
Qin Shang's face went pale. “This wreck cannot be the Princess Dou Wan,” he repeated.
“Move the ROV around the stern,” Chen Jiang ordered the operator.
In a few minutes the little underwater prowler stopped and the operator zoomed the camera in on the lettering across the stern of the hulk. There was no mistaking the name,
PRINCESS YUNG T'AI, SHANGHAI.
“It is my ship!” Qin Shang's eyes were stricken as he stared into the monitor.
“Could it have been salvaged without your knowledge?” asked Chen Jiang.
“Not possible. No treasure that immense could have remained hidden all these years. Pieces of it would have most certainly surfaced.”
“Shall I order the crew to prepare the submersible?”
“Yes, yes,” Qin Shang said anxiously. “I must have a closer look.”
Qin Shang hired his own engineers to design the submersible he named Sea Lotus. She was built at a company in France that specialized in deep-undersea vehicles. He had watched over every aspect of her construction. Unlike most submersibles, where the requirements of the equipment came before the comfort of the crew, the Sea Lotus was built more like an office than a Spartan chamber for scientific study. She was a pleasure craft to Qin Shang. He trained himself in her operation and often piloted her around the Hong Kong harbor shortly after she was built, making suggestions for modifications to suit his personal demands.
He also ordered a second submersible built, called Sea Jasmine. Her purpose was to act as backup in case Sea Lotus suffered mechanical problems while on the seabed.
An hour later, Shang's private submersible was rolled out of her compartment onto the stern of the salvage vessel and stationed beneath the modernistic A-frame that would lift her out and into the water. When all systems were checked, the copilot stood at the hatch, waiting for Qin Shang to enter.
“I will pilot the craft alone,” he said imperiously.
Captain Chen Jiang looked up at him from the deck. “Do you think that wise, sir? You are unfamiliar with these waters.”
“I am quite familiar with the operation of the Sea Lotus. You forget, Captain, I created her. I will go down alone. It is for me to be the first to see the treasures stolen from our country all these years. I have dreamed too long of this moment to share it.”
Chen Jiang shrugged and said nothing. He merely nodded for the submersible's copilot to stand aside as Qin Shang descended the ladder down through the tower that prevented rough water from cascading into the open hatch leading to the control and pressure chamber. He pulled the hatch closed and sealed it, then turned on the life-support systems.
Diving to 430 feet was child's play for a vessel built to withstand the immense squeeze that water exerted at depths of 25,000 feet. He sat in a comfortable chair of his own design, facing the control console and a large viewing window on the bow of the submersible.
Sea Lotus was swung out over the water by the A-frame away from the ship's fantail, where she hung for a few moments until her rocking motion ceased. Then she was lowered into Lake Michigan. Divers released the lift hook and made a final check of the exterior before Qin Shang took her into the frigid depths.
“You are free of the lift line and cleared to descend,” Chen Jiang's voice came over the communications speaker.
“Flooding ballast tanks,” Qin Shang replied.
Chen Jiang was too experienced an officer to allow his employer to override his responsibilities as captain of the Jade Adventurer. He turned to an officer and issued an order unheard by Qin Shang. “Have the Sea Jasmine prepared to launch as a safety precaution.”
“Do you expect trouble, sir?”
“No, but we cannot allow harm to come to Qin Shang.”
The Sea Lotus quickly slipped out of sight beneath the waves and began her slow fall to the bottom of the lake. Qin Shang stared through the viewing window into the dark green water as it magically went black and he saw his reflection inside the pressure chamber. His eyes were cold, his mouth was in a tight line, unsmiling. Within the brief span of an hour he had gone from a man of supreme confidence to someone who looked sick and tired and baffled. He did not like what he saw in the nebulous face staring back at him, seemingly outside in the depths. For the only time in his life that he could remember, he felt a growing surge of anxiety. The treasures had to be somewhere inside the broken hulks, he told himself over and over as the submersible sank ever deeper into the cold waters of the lake. They had to be. It was inconceivable that someone had come before.
The descent took less than ten minutes, but to Qin Shang the seconds passed like hours. He gazed into pure blackness before switching on the exterior lights. It was also becoming cold inside the chamber, and he set a small heating unit to seventy degrees. The echo sounder indicated the bottom was coming up fast. He allowed a small amount of pressurized air to flow into the ballast tanks to slow his descent. On deep-water dives beyond one thousand feet, he would have dropped weights attached to the keel of the submersible.
The flat, barren lake bed emerged under the lights. He adjusted the ballast and stopped five feet from the bottom. Then Qin Shang turned on the electric thrusters and began banking in a wide circle. “I am on the bottom,” he called to his support crew above. “Can you see where I am in relation to the wreck?”
“The sonar shows you only forty yards west of the starboard side of the main wreckage,” Jiang answered.
Qin Shang's heartbeat raced in anticipation. He banked the Sea Lotus until it was moving parallel to the hull, and then brought the sub upward until it passed over the railing along the edge of the forward cargo deck. He saw the cranes looming out of the black void and banked to miss them. Now he was over one of the cargo holds. Hovering the submersible and tilting its stern upward so the lights beamed down, his eyes strained into the darkness as he stared into the gaping cavern.
With indescribable dread, he saw that it was empty.
Then something moved in the shadows. At first he merely thought it was a fish, but then it moved up from the black of the cargo hold and materialized into an unspeakable monstrosity, an apparition that belonged in another world. Slowly it rose, as if levitated in air, like some hideous creature from the murky abyss, and moved toward the submersible.
On the surface, Captain Chen Jiang stared with mounting apprehension as the research vessel he'd sighted earlier had turned on a ninety-degree course and was now facing the Jade Adventurer. Abruptly presenting its bows after having showed its starboard broadside, the research vessel now revealed a United States Coast Guard cutter that it had shielded from view. Now both vessels were traveling at full speed directly toward the Chinese salvage ship.
QIN SHANG LOOKED LIKE A MAN WHO HAD SEEN THE DEEPEST pit in hell and wanted no part of it. His face was as white and rigid as hardened putty. Sweat streamed from his forehead, his eyes glazed with shock. For a man totally in control of his emotions during his entire life, he was suddenly paralyzed. He stared awestruck at the face inside the bubble-shaped head of the yellow and black monster as it broke into a ghastly grin. And then he recognized the familiar features.
“Pitt!” he gasped in a rasping whisper.
“Yes, it's me,” Pitt answered over his underwater communications system inside the Newtsuit. “You do hear me, don't you, Qin Shang?”
The trauma of disbelief, then revulsion at who the apparition was, released a flow of venom in Qin Shang's veins as shock turned into crazed wrath. “I hear you,” he said slowly, his thoughts coming back under his iron control. He did not demand to know where Pitt came from or what he was doing here. There was only one question in Qin Shang's mind.
“Where is the treasure?”
“Treasure,” Pitt said, his face taking on a witless expression behind the transparent bubble on the globular helmet of the Newt
suit. “I ain't got no treasure.”
“What has happened to it?” Qin Shang demanded, his eyes sick with the cold realization of defeat. “What have you done with the historical masterworks of my country?”
“Put it all in a place where it's safe from scum like you who want it all to themselves.”
“How?” he asked simply.
“With much luck and many good people,” Pitt said impassively. “After my researcher discovered a survivor who pointed the way, I put together a salvage project combining NUMA, the U.S. Navy and the Canadians. Together, they completed the salvage in ten days before leaking the Princess Dou Wan's position to your researcher. I believe his name is Zhu Kwan. Then it was merely a matter of sitting back and waiting for you to show up. I knew you were obsessed by the treasure, Qin Shang. I read you like a book. Now it's payoff time. By coming back into the U.S. you've forfeited any chance you had of a long life. Unfortunately, because there is a great lack of ethics and morality in the world these days, your money and political influence has undoubtedly kept you out of prison. But the final entry in your ledger, Qin Shang, is that you are going to die. You are going to die as retribution for all those innocent people you murdered.”
“You create amusing plots, Pitt.” There was a sneer in Qin Shang's voice, but it was contradicted by a deep uneasiness in his eyes. “And who is going to see that I die?”
“I've been waiting for you,” Pitt said, hate mirrored in his green eyes. “There was never a doubt that you would come and come alone.”
“Are you quite finished? Or do you wish to bore me to death?”
Qin Shang knew his life was hanging by a thread, but he had yet to figure by what means he was supposed to die. Although Pitt's casualness made him uncomfortable, all fear was slowly replaced by an inner self-defense mechanism. His conspiring mind began to concentrate on a plan to save himself. His hopes rose when he comprehended that Pitt had no support from a surface ship. A diver inside a Newtsuit did not make descents and ascents without an umbilical cable. He had to be lowered and raised by winch from a mother ship on the surface. The cable also served as a communications link. Pitt was breathing self-contained air that could not last much longer than an hour.
Without life support on the surface, Pitt was on borrowed time and totally defenseless.
“You're not as clever as you think,” Qin Shang said, a faint pallor on his face. “From my side of the viewing port, it looks like you are the one who is going to die, Mr. Pitt. Your ingenious diving apparatus against my submersible? You stand about as much chance as a sloth against a bear.” “I'm willing to give it a try.” “Where is your support ship?”
“I don't need one,” Pitt said with unnerving nonchalance. “I walked from shore.”
“You are very humorous for a man who will never see the sun again.”
As Qin Shang spoke, his hands moved furtively toward the controls of the submersible's manipulator arms and their claws. “I can either drop my weights and float to the surface, leaving you alone to your fate. Or, I can call my crew and order them to send down my backup submersible.”
“Not fair. That would make it two bears against one sloth.”
The man's imperturbable composure is inhuman, thought Qin Shang. Something is not as it seems. “You act sure of yourself,” he said, as he measured his options.
Pitt raised one of the Newtsuit's manipulator arms and displayed a small, watertight box with an antenna. “In case you're wondering why you haven't heard from your friends topside, this little device scrambles all communications within five hundred feet.”
That explained why he had received no calls from the Jade Adventurer. But that piece of news did nothing to deter Qin Shang's determination to wreak punishment on Pitt.
“You have meddled in my affairs for the last time.” Qin Shang's fingers slowly curled around the throttle of the thrust-ers and the manipulator controls. “I can not waste another minute with you. I must seek out where you've hidden the treasure. Farewell, Mr. Pitt. I'm dropping my ballast weights and returning to the surface.”
Pitt knew full well what was coming. Even through the murky water that separated them, he detected the sudden shift in Qin Shang's eyes. He threw up his manipulator arms to protect his vulnerable bubble mask and reversed the two small motors mounted on each side of the Newtsuit's waist. His reaction came at almost the same instant as the submersible lurched forward.
It was a battle Pitt could not win. One second the Sea Lotus was hovering level, the next it was relentlessly coming toward him. His much smaller manipulator pincers were no match for the larger claws on the arms of the submersible. Qin Shang's vehicle could also move at twice the speed of the Newtsuit. If the submersible's mechanical claws cut through the Newtsuit, it would be all over.
Pitt could do nothing but helplessly watch as the big ugly manipulator arms spread in preparation of encircling him in a death grip, squeezing until the integrity of the Newtsuit was gashed open to the water waiting to rush inside. When that happened, Pitt would die an agonizing death.
He had no wish to wait for the water to gush down his open throat into his lungs. The burst of sudden pressure alone would make his final moments unbearable. He had come close to drowning on at least two occasions, and he had no desire to repeat the events. Tormented, struggling and dying with no one near him to see except his most vicious enemy was not what Pitt had in mind.
Pitt longed to drive the Newtsuit forward, using his own manipulator pincers to smash Qin Shang's viewing window of the submersible, but they were too short and would have easily been knocked away by the arms on the submersible. Also, an aggressive attack was not part of his plan. He looked into the twin jaws of death, saw the evil leer on Qin Shang's face and maneuvered his cumbersome pressure suit backward in a losing effort to stall for time.
Directing the articulated joints of the Newtsuit, he leaned over and used the manipulator pincers to pick up a short length of pipe that was lying on the deck. Then he swung the pipe to ward off the deadly arms of the submersible. It was almost a laughable gesture. Qin Shang guided his claws toward Pitt from two sides. Almost as if he was snatching candy from a baby, he seized the pipe and tore it from the Newtsuit's pincers. If spectators could have seen the fight through the murk, it would have looked like a ballet between two huge animals in slow motion. All movement at that depth was hindered by the surrounding water pressure.
Then Pitt felt the Newtsuit come to an abrupt halt as he backed it against the forward bulkhead of the Princess Dou Wart's superstructure. Now there was no room to escape the onslaught. The uneven fight had only lasted eight or nine minutes. Pitt could see the satanic grin on Qin Shang's face as his sadistic opponent closed in for the kill.
Then, unexpectedly, without warning, a vague shape came gliding silently out of the gloom like a great incarnate vulture. Stretched prone inside a submersible with the configuration of a small airplane with stubby wings and a tail assembly, Giordino angled the Sappho TV from above and dropped behind the Sea Lotus. With grim concentration he operated the controls to a viselike talon that protruded from beneath the craft. Clutched in the talon was a small round ball less than three inches in diameter that was attached to a small suction device. Completely oblivious, Qin Shang's attention was focused on murdering Pitt. Then Giordino pressed the ball and suction device against the pressure hull of the Sea Lotus until it adhered. After that he tilted the Sappho TVs bow sharply upward and banked away, quickly disappearing into the watery void.
Twenty seconds later a sharp thump sounded through the water. At first Qin Shang was mystified as he felt the Sea Lotus shudder. Too late he realized that Pitt's brave defiance against overwhelming odds was a diversion for an attack from another source. And then he watched in growing horror as a spiderweb of tiny fractures spread across the upper wall of the pressure chamber. Suddenly water burst inside as if shot from a small cannon. The pressure chamber maintained its integrity and did not implode, but the incoming flood spelled i
ts doom.
Qin Shang froze in cold fright as the water rose higher and higher, rapidly filling the small interior of the submersible. He frantically switched on the pumps to drain the ballast tanks and hit the lever to drop the heavy weights beneath the keel. The Sea Lotus sluggishly ascended for several feet and then hung there as the flooding water neutralized its buoyancy. Then it slowly began to fall, settling into the bottom and throwing up a thin cloud of silt.
Now in mindless panic, Qin Shang desperately tried to open the outer hatch in an insane attempt to reach the surface 430 feet above, an impossible gesture because of the immense water pressure outside.
Pitt moved the Newtsuit through the cloud of silt and gazed through the submersible's viewing window, remembering the sight of the bodies strewn in the depths of Orion Lake as the Chinese arch-criminal pulled himself up into a rapidly compressing air pocket for one last breath before the icy water of the lake filled his nose and open, screaming mouth. The screams were soon choked off until the only sound coming from the Sea Lotus was the gurgling of escaping bubbles. Then, as if set on a timer, the halogen lights blinked out, throwing the submersible into total darkness.
Pitt was sweating heavily inside the Newtsuit. He stood on the bottom, staring with grim satisfaction at the underwater tomb of Qin Shang. The billionaire shipping magnate, who had dominated and exploited and slain thousands of innocent people, would spend eternity in the deep next to the empty treasure ship that had obsessed most of his waking life. It was a fitting end, Pitt thought without the slightest sense of pity.
He glanced up as Giordino reappeared in the Sappho IV. “You took your sweet time. I might have been killed.”
Giordino hovered the sub until their faces behind the protective transparent shields were no more than two feet apart. “I can't tell you how much I enjoyed the show,” he laughed. “If you could have only seen yourself in that Pillsbury Doughboy suit playing Errol Flynn with a pipe as a sword.”
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