by Albert Able
“You OK in there Slim?” John asked.
“Just slipped. I’m OK. Can you give me any more line?”
John pushed the last metre through the door.
“That’s the lot. Any good?”
“Can’t see anything for the moment but its clearing. What’s this?” he muttered before gasping, “Oh boy, this isn’t rock - it’s a bloody great pile of gold!”
All those years ago the torpedo that sank the submarine hit the main cargo hold; the intensity of the explosion blew open the bottom of the hull while the submarine was still on the surface. Most of the gold stored there was scattered into the sea, shimmering like golden autumn leaves tumbling in the wind, as it cascaded to the ocean floor to be lost forever; however some of the gold melted into a solid mass and only a few ingots remained intact.
Once the water cleared, Slim gazed transfixed at the golden reflections.
“It’s a mountain of gold!” he gasped in hushed wonder.
The tiger sharks were becoming increasingly irritated.
w
Half a mile or so from a small Corregidor fishing harbour, the Japanese dive boat rode quietly at its anchor. The thin-faced expedition leader of the group paced the deck in silence. His assistant, a shorter Japanese man, followed like his shadow; eventually they turned and moved towards the helipad.
“The lawyer has reported that our informer’s regular message failed to come through. It must mean that he’s been compromised,” the thin-faced man spat without turning around. “The eventual failure of his regular messages had of course been anticipated. Well at least the lawyer has been able to confirm that Franco Ebola and his men have arrived safely and are to act as our security screen. We will rendezvous at dusk.”
He looked out towards the setting sun; a thin smile while lit his face.
“Of course I also realise that Ebola’s group will probably attempt to take the gold for themselves. Our advantage however,” he looked happily for the first time at his timid companion, “is that we know that they intend to try. Yes it is going to be a very interesting day.”
f
Both of Big J’s dive teams were working on the wreck in a desperate attempt to recover the last of the gold. Slim was inside the hold gathering up as many of the loose ingots as he could find and passing them laboriously to John and the other divers waiting beyond the jammed door. The other team was working outside the hull, urgently trying to make an entrance at least large enough to extract, with the aid of the ships powerful derrick, the huge lump of gold which had been fused together by the initial explosion.
Slim was exhausted and John ordered him out.
“You’ve done your bit Slim and we’re all well over our time limit so we’re all going up now. The others will have to see if they can do any more.”
Slim didn’t argue; he knew the danger of extending the real pressure time to far.
“Hal,” John called, “it’s all yours now. We’re going up - the bell will come straight back for you. Good luck.”
They had just transferred to the pressure vessel when Alex raised the alarm; he’d always suspected that there had to be another mole on the ship.
Hans, poring over his complex scanning equipment in London, had not until now been able to pinpoint the exact source of the radio signals. Then suddenly he’d managed to override the code. The calls were coming from the bridge of the cargo ship La Vielle. He called Alex immediately.
Alex crept cautiously up to the bridge. As he quietly eased open the door he saw the captain huddled over the satellite telephone engaged in a whispered conversation. It was loud enough for Alex to understand that they were about to be attacked.
Alex stepped onto the bridge as the captain replaced the receiver.
“Good evening Captain,” he announced himself cheerfully.
The captain practically jumped out of his chair in surprise. “What do you want?” he demanded.
“Simple really. Just the name of the person you were talking to?” Alex smiled. That was when the captain noticed the thirty-eight revolver pointing at his stomach. He stood up slowly.
“What’s this all about?” the captain bluffed.
Alex leaned casually against the doorframe facing the captain. “I think you should be telling me don’t you? After all you’re the one attempting to betray this operation!” Alex’s tone became harder, the revolver pointed steadily at the captain’s stomach. “But of course you cannot tell me who your controller is, because you don’t know who he is, do you!” Alex seemed to weigh the gun in his hand. “Let me see now, what did they promise you? "First the return of your ship and then a substantial share of the gold. Yes?”
The captain slumped back into his chair.
“Not just for me you understand but for the engineer too” he confessed, defeated.
“You bloody fool. You of all people should know they would never keep such a promise. Damn it man, you know too much. You’ve just signed your own death warrant!”
There was a sound outside. Alex turned. The engineer and Greg stood at the entrance.
“What have you done man?” the old engineer said as he moved across to his captain and only friend.
“I’m afraid I didn’t think very clearly and I’ve given our position away to my controller; he promised to return the ship and a big share of the gold if I cooperated!” He was close to tears.
The old engineer placed a gnarled hand on the captain’s shoulder. “ Don’t worry Cap. It’ll be OK, you’ll see.”
“Greg I want you to lock him in his cabin.” Alex turned to the old engineer. “So what do we have to do about you then?”
“Don’t worry about me boss - you see I’m not that greedy, but it’s up to you?” He shrugged his skinny shoulders.
Alex thought for a minute and picked up the microphone.
“OK boys it seems as though we are to receive unwelcome visitors. So let’s get ourselves ready to repel boarders!” he commanded over the ship’s intercom system.
Then he slapped the old engineer lightly on the back.
“Let’s see if we can save something to argue over eh?”
Alex slipped across to the tug, where Big J and the deck crew were busy preparing to send the dive bell back down to collect Hal’s team.
“Hold that for a minute please. J, I need a quick chat before that goes back down.”
It was almost twenty minutes later before the bell finally started its decent to collect the other divers; but it was not empty. John’s face grinned from the tiny pressure window; he gave the OK sign as it vanished into the water. Attached to the bell were three of the special depleted uranium magnetic mines.
Johns job was to place the mines strategically on the submarine ensuring that “any uninvited visitors receive a warm welcome”, as Alex had put it.
John clamped the first of the mines at the bow of the submarine, adjacent to the protruding torpedo and hopefully he calculated, near the other ordnance inside the torpedo room. The second he placed on opposite side of the hull, near to where Hal and the other divers were still feverishly working. The last one he intended to place as close to the stern of the wreck as he could get.
Hal’s divers had finally made a big enough opening in the outer hull and attached the lifting chains to the heavy lump of gold. Satisfied that it was well secured, Hal called to Greg on the surface.
“OK to take the weight on the derrick now.” There was no response. “Wake up you buggers,” Hal called again frustrated.
It was Marion’s trembling voice they eventually heard as she responded to Hal’s frustrated calls.
“We’ve been boarded by dozens of armed men. I don’t know what to do. Alex and Oscar have disappeared and the rest of the crew are on deck under guard. I don’t know what to say but be careful; they’ve launched one of their submersibles. I’ll try to find someone who knows what to do.”
Marion had taken a tray of steaming mugs of coffee to the control room and was surprised to find it emp
ty. The unfamiliar shouting on deck attracted her attention to the small control room porthole, where she watched unnoticed as the drama on deck unfolded.
She had not seen the other dive boat, escorted by one of the high-powered motorboats, as they banged roughly alongside the tug disgorging about fifteen armed men who had been hidden below their bulwarks. The other two motorboats pulled alongside the outboard side of La Vielle.
Armed men swarmed all over the two vessels. Big J and his unarmed crew had no option but to surrender. Big J was immediately identified as the tug’s captain by the thin faced Japanese who swaggered across the deck to face him; in spite of the fact that Big J towered at least a foot above him, the thin faced Japanese stood arrogantly hands on hips.
“So, you must be the leader of this project yes?” He didn’t wait for Big J to answer. “You can see that I have twenty-five armed men who are very keen to test their weapons and there are more in the other two motor launches.” As if it were needed he indicated their presence with a casual sweep of his hand. “First thing to remember, they all hate westerners. Secondly they are seriously upset of by the loss of their promised new weapons. So I thought it might help to sharpen their interest if I were to tell them exactly who was responsible for the loss of their toys.” The thin-faced man looked towards the derrick, its slack cable swinging gently in the light swell. His head snapped back to glare at Big J. “So you will tell me what you have found and co-operate fully, then there will be no trouble. Otherwise I will let my men loose, is that clear?”
Big J should have been an actor, for he played his part with professional style. He looked about the deck and at his nervous crew.
“OK. I have no plans to endanger my crew or my vessels.” He looked at some of the men as if asking for their blessing before continuing. No one spoke they just looked at he floor in apparent fear. Big J looked back at the thin-faced man. “So far, after searching about twenty other locations, we believe that we may have finally found the wreck of the cargo submarine. To date we have recovered only a few gold ingots. But we are convinced that the bulk is still down there.” He looked again at the others than back at the thin faced Japanese.
Big J took a step towards the ship’s rail, beckoning the man as he moved.
“Now look, I’d be quite prepared to work with you, but you must make it worth my while?” he said in a lower but perfectly audible tone.
“You bloody traitor,” one of the despondent crew shouted out.
The thin-faced Japanese swaggered to the side and looked into the black water between the tethered vessels. “
Well Captain, perhaps we could come to some kind of arrangement.” He looked up at Big J, “And how much gold do you think there is still down there?”
“I’d say about thirty tonnes, Big J replied quietly. His face lit up into a cheeky smile. “Enough for you and me!” he said, then followed in a serious tone, “especially if it only has to be divided in two.”
The thin-faced man looked at Big J and smiled.
“I think you and I should talk but somewhere a little more private yes?” He looked about. “Where do you suggest?”
“The bridge.” Big J pointed and moved forward, leading the way.
Big J and Alex had already agreed that the only way to avoid a frontal firefight was to let their enemy on board and then gradually neutralise them, using stealthy guerrilla tactics.
Mo and Alex, wearing breathing gear, had slipped unseen into the sea, just before the first armed men climbed aboard. Each carrying two of the depleted uranium limpet mines, they swam under the vessels to the enemy powerboats and carefully attached a mine to each one.
Oscar was waiting for them at the underwater hatch in the tug.
“How did you get on?” he asked excitedly as they pulled away their masks.
“I think you can say that we have control of that situation. Now what’s happening here?” Alex asked anxiously.
“Big J did an award winning performance,” Oscar explained, “and is talking to their leader on the bridge as we speak but perhaps more serious is the fact that they’ve already launched one of their submersibles, so I’m really worried about our divers.”
“OK so it’s not all bad news. Let’s see now,” Alex pursed his lips. “That could mean four or five men manning the submersible - maybe even more if they took a full team of divers.” He looked at Oscar with an encouraging smile, “So that’s a few less we have to deal with up here eh?” Alex grinned. He was beginning to enjoy himself.
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Seventy metres below John instructed Hal’s team to return to the bell.
“We’ll have to call it a day boys - the attack seems to have arrived a bit earlier than expected. I just hope to God we can get back up and into pressure without any trouble.”
Marion, still alone in the control room, interjected trying to re-assure them.
“You boys just get into the bell, I can control it from here,” she assured them.
Hal led his team across and through the hatch; the last man had just climbed in as the submersible appeared. Gliding silently towards the wreck like a large coloured beetle, it stopped and hovered over the wreck. John, still in the centre section of the submarine, suddenly found himself right underneath the submersibles. He had just been about to place his last limpet mine when this new target of opportunity temptingly presented itself. He picked up the last limpet mine and, slipping unnoticed up to the drifting submersible, gently pressed it against the hull and then headed away as fast as he could swim. At that precise moment, the first diver emerged from the submersible’s hatch. He spotted John immediately but not the mine. Armed with a compressed air spear gun, he took a random shot at the retreating diver; more by luck than judgement the harpoon slashed into John’s calf. He recoiled from the sudden pain as the harpoon ripped into the neoprene of his suit, tearing at his flesh before falling away leaving a cloud of blood in his wake. He kept swimming frantically towards the bell where, gasping for breath and aided by the others, he was pulled inside; another diver pulled up the hatch back up and secured it.
There had been eight divers squeezed in the yellow submersible; two had followed John. The others moved towards the wreck and peered inside through the extended entrance John and his team had completed. The first diver gestured excitedly at the entrance. When the two divers following John saw the hatch close, they gave up the chase and turned their attention back to the submarine, where they found their companions clamouring excitedly around the fused block of gold.
By now the sharks had had enough.
In the dark and mysterious underwater world the tiger shark is a unique specialised member of its species. It is certainly as ferocious as the legendary great white. In fact had it been subjected to similar publicity, it would probably be revered as the world’s greatest predator. Unlike any other known shark it is believed to be able to control its buoyancy by swimming to the surface, gulping air, which it retains in its stomach and releases, as it requires, in order to maintain its depth without movement at any given level. Other species have to swim constantly to maintain their depth, thus attracting attention to their presence. Consequently the tiger shark can lie silently in wait and more easily ambush its prey. Another significant difference is that they are thought to be the only sharks to engage in corporate hunting. Groups of fifteen or twenty have been known to gather, rounding up schools of fish before systematically gorging on the captive harvest.
The faint scent of blood from John’s leg wound teased the already sharpened senses of the drifting sharks, tipping the balance between what had been their patient and cautious attitude to the interlopers, into the sudden rage they now felt. Six of the great animals coasted across to the rusting hull and the stream of bubbles pouring from the gaping hole, where they hovered for a moment. It was only seconds before the back and shoulder of a diver protruded from the hole; the lead tiger flicked its powerful tail and shot like a silent arrow towards the unsuspecting diver. The shark’s mouth o
pens on an articulated jaw and can easily encompass large prey. The arm and shoulder right up to the man's neck was engulfed in the terrifying jaw. The shark twisted its massive body and ripped the limbs away; a cloud of blood and gore exploded into the sea. The shocking wound imploded the man’s nervous system, mercifully killing him almost instantly.
Momentarily stunned, then in blind panic the other divers roughly pushed the remains of the dead diver away as they tried to escape or hide from the next attack. Two scrambled to get out of the hull and back to the submersible. Camouflaged as they thought by the blood-clouded water they pushed the body of their dead colleague ahead of them as they dived towards the safety of the submersible. The tiger sharks however, which had grown in number to a pack of eight or ten, were waiting and undeterred by the blood clouded water easily picked off the two divers.
Frozen in his seat in shock as he witnessed the terrible attack, the pilot of the submersible lost crucially valuable time before manoeuvring his craft right above the divers and allowing them a better chance of escape.
The sharks, flushed with the excitement of their first kill had completely lost any fear of the big coloured submersible, and drifted menacingly underneath it, and impatiently waited.
Four of the divers were ripped apart in just a matter of seconds. The other four remained cowering inside the limited protection of the hull; for several minutes nothing happened. Then one more adventurous shark nosed into the hole; the nearest diver pointed his harpoon and fired. The spear glanced off the emery board skin, but the shark withdrew, unsure for a moment.
John, Hal and the other three divers were still suspended in the bell a few metres away. The vivid scene of destruction was so harrowing that one of the men had been violently sick. The atmosphere inside the bell was suffocating.
Marion was no longer answering their urgent calls to be hoisted to the surface.