Knox

by David Meyer

  “That was easy.” Ben shot us an over-the-shoulder glance. “I can’t believe no one ever thought to search underground.”

  “Why would they?” I asked.

  “Are you serious? One minute, the trucks are here. The next, they’re gone in a cloud of smoke. If it were me, I’d have dug up this whole area.”

  “Would you? Would you really? Ten enormous trucks disappear and you’d look underground rather than, I don’t know, the nearest road?”

  He hesitated. “At the very least, they should’ve scanned this entire clearing.”

  “Easier said than done. The modern version of ground penetrating radar might’ve been patented in the 1920s. But it didn’t reach broad acceptance until the 1970s.”

  “Fine, but I still find it hard to believe no one noticed the holes.”

  “What holes?” Graham asked.

  Ben nodded at the pipe. “That pipe and the other ones might’ve been hidden underground, but the smoke still had to reach the surface. Hence, there had to be holes.

  “True, but the holes didn’t need to be very big.”

  “Plus, there was lots of snow that day,” Beverly added. “The ground was covered with it. That would’ve obscured the holes.”

  “Or the exact opposite,” Ben replied. “The smoke must’ve been hot if it singed that pipe. It would’ve melted the snow around each hole, leaving little craters in its wake.”

  “According to Milt’s notes, snow was falling fast that evening,” I said. “It would’ve quickly covered up the melted snow. Plus, he and a couple of soldiers ran into this clearing while the smoke was still thick. They were looking for trucks, not melted snow. They probably trampled the craters, destroying all evidence in the process.”

  As he turned back to the clearing, I stabbed my shovel into the dirt and continued to dig. Meanwhile, Beverly worked the opposite side of the pipe and gradually our small hole began to deepen.

  After about ten minutes, we began to pick up speed. The hole grew wider, deeper. I ran into a layer of rock and adjusted, digging around it.

  Before long, distant shouts and light scuffling sounds began to float into our ears. We continued to dig until our entire bodies were below ground-level. Then my shovel clanged against metal and I gave Beverly a knowing look.

  She jabbed her shovel into some soil. “Give me some light.”

  Graham adjusted his flashlight and I got my first look at the smoke machine. It was made of steel and rested upon a stone platform. About a foot of packed dirt surrounded it on all sides along with what appeared to be rock walls and a rock ceiling.

  I poked the packed dirt atop the machine, causing large chunks to break off and crumble to my feet. Beverly followed my lead and together, we worked to clear away the soil.

  Gradually, we uncovered the metal box’s topmost surface. One foot, two feet, three feet of metal plating was exposed to air for the first time in decades.

  I climbed into the makeshift niche and continued to brush soil out of the way. My arms started to burn. My fingertips grew tired and sore.

  Abruptly, my hand plunged through the dirt and into open air. Twisting my wrist, I felt around. “There’s definitely a cavity back there.”

  A few feet over, Beverly continued to claw away at the soil. Then her hand plunged through the dirt and entered the cavity as well.

  Thanks to the dim light provided by Graham’s flashlight, I saw a dark void ahead of me. Turning onto my back, I saw the rock ceiling was cracked, but unbroken. “Justin didn’t tunnel out this space,” I realized. “It was already here.”

  She furrowed her brow. “How’d he find it?”

  I scrabbled across the rest of the box and entered a small cave. Stale air, with a metal scent to it, wafted into my nostrils.

  Beverly, moving with far more grace than I could ever manage, slid out to join me. “Maybe it wasn’t always below ground.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  I waited for Graham and Ben to make their way into the cave. “Okay, I’ve got an idea about what happened here and it might explain the missing trucks, too,” I said. “Justin and his crew came here ahead of time. And when they arrived, I think this cave was at ground-level. In fact, I think much of the clearing was on a different level.”

  Beverly’s eyes widened. Graham’s look turned thoughtful. Only Ben seemed utterly confused. “What do you mean by a different level?” he asked.

  “In other words, the ground was lower than it is today,” I explained. “So, Justin’s crew installed the machines, laid the pipes, and hooked up generators to power the whole thing. Afterward, they trucked dirt here, burying everything and building up the terrain.”

  He blinked. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

  “You’d work hard too if you were trying to make off with 4,500 metric tons of gold.”

  “I suppose so. But even if you’re right, it still doesn’t explain what happened to the trucks.”

  I didn’t have an answer for him. So, I took out my flashlight, turned it on, and aimed the beam at the metal box. To my surprise, it wasn’t alone. A second box, of roughly the same size and featuring similar controls and access panels, stood next to it. Pipes connected both boxes to nearby machines, at least two of which looked like generators.

  Widening my gaze, I noticed the cave wasn’t enclosed. Instead, a large corridor curved to the northeast. I hiked into the corridor and followed it to a gigantic cavern. For a moment, I gawked at the sight before me.

  Ten dump trucks, parked neatly in two rows.

  We’d done it. We’d actually found the trucks and presumably, the gold. But more importantly, we were getting closer and closer to the truth. To solving the mystery that had plagued my dad for much of his life.

  To finding out, at long last, what had happened to Justin.

  CHAPTER 71

  “Here goes nothing.” Lifting my arm, I pulled a small section of an old canvas tarp into the air. Graham, positioned next to me on the siding, aimed his beam into the truck’s dump bed, illuminating a sea of glittering gold bars.

  Beverly climbed up to join us. For a few moments, she surveyed the bars. “We should probably test them. I think I saw a couple of toolboxes near the far wall.”

  We dropped back to the ground. While she headed east, I took out my flashlight and aimed its beam south, past the trucks. The darkness quickly ate up the light. Rotating in a circle, I swept my beam around the cavern. To the northwest, I saw the corridor leading back to the small cave. To the northeast, the cavern gave way to blackness, indicating there was still more to see.

  Clearly, the dump trucks hadn’t entered via the cave. It was too small and besides, it would’ve already been buried by the time they arrived in the clearing. And that area to the northeast didn’t look right either, given that it was positioned away from the clearing.

  I walked south and aimed my beam at the wall. A gigantic steel plate, covered with grime and rust, materialized out of the darkness. It stood fifteen feet tall and was just as thick. A small ramp, also made of steel, descended from the plate into the cavern.

  I couldn’t help but grin. “Clever.”

  Graham walked over to join me. “What’ve we got here?”

  “A garage door.”

  “So, the rocks outside are fake?”

  “Possibly.” I gave the door a shove. It didn’t budge. Tilting my beam upward, I saw an angled steel beam welded to the plate. A complex mechanism connected it to a nearby machine. “I wonder if any of this stuff still works.”

  “All things considered, the machines are in pretty good shape.” Graham ventured toward some tall canisters, tucked into an alcove along the east wall. Unscrewing the top off a canister, he gave it a good whiff. “There’s still some gas left. So, yeah, I could probably get stuff working again.”

  “Do it.”

  As he went to work, I retreated to the small cave and made my way back to the surface. The clearing was deserted. All around me, I heard shouts, yells, and
the buzz of electricity.

  Mentally calculating the position of the steel plate, I hiked to the mesa’s southern face. Looking closely, I saw ridges, cracks, clefts, and small peaks. I touched some of the rocks. They felt rugged, uneven, and firm. In other words, just like rocks.

  It looked real. It even felt real. And yet, it wasn’t real. It was just another one of Justin’s deceptions.

  The mesa started to tremble and groan. I stepped back a few more feet as the steel plate cracked open and slightly outward, revealing the cavern’s yawning interior.

  More puzzles pieces slid into place. The plate, like the smoke machine and pipes, had been prepared in advance. On December 14, 1949, Justin’s crew had driven into the clearing. While Milt watched from a distance, Justin had opened the plate and sent one of his men into the cave to man the smoke machine. As smoke poured into the clearing, his crew had driven the trucks into the cavern.

  It was a good theory. But unfortunately, incomplete. For one thing, it didn’t explain the lack of engine noises prior to the disappearance. Also, it didn’t account for the absence of tire tracks.

  My boots made slight scraping noises as I headed down the sturdy ramp. “It looks real,” I said, with a wave at the rock-covered plate.

  Graham nodded. “Justin must’ve used some kind of epoxy to attach rocks to it.”

  Ben appeared at Graham’s side. “Can epoxy really last that long?”

  “It’s possible if the bonds don’t change or degrade over time.” Graham shrugged. “Justin must’ve had access to all sorts of top-secret technologies during the war. Maybe it included some form of heightened super glue.”

  Ben saw fit to argue the point. While they bickered, I walked back to the small cave and shone my beam at the smoke machine. Then I turned my attention to the second metal box and focused in on a two-foot square hatch, sealed with screws.

  I found an old toolbox off to one side. Grabbing a screwdriver and some work gloves, I went to work on the rusty screws. Afterward, I yanked the hatch cover. Metal groaned as it broke free from the box.

  Graham and Ben, no longer bickering, strode into the cave. “Another smoke machine?” Graham asked.

  I pulled off the gloves and reached into the box. My fingers touched a soft, yet brittle material. “I don’t think so.” I aimed my beam into the box. “There are tons of rubber tubes in here. Like giant balloons, only thicker and stronger.”

  Ben frowned. “Tubes?”

  I closed my eyes and willed my brain to imagine things as Milt Stevens might’ve experienced them back in 1949. I heard the ever-present shrieking sound. Smelled the fresh mountain air. Felt the chilly breeze and the heavy snowflakes touching my skin.

  I pictured the trucks, viewed from a great distance and surrounded by a swirling blizzard. As smoke shot out of the earth, the image slowed in my head and I watched as the trucks vanished into the night.

  Laughter came to my lips and at last, I understood how Justin had pulled off the impossible. He’d been far sneakier than anyone could’ve ever imagined. “Those trucks, the ones that disappeared … they were fake.”

  “No, they weren’t.” Ben frowned. “We were just looking at them.”

  “I’m talking about the trucks Milt saw right before the smoke appeared.” I pulled out one of the tubes and held it up for him to see. “The inflatable trucks.”

  CHAPTER 72

  Realization dawned on Graham’s visage. “Justin built a pneumatic system, like the one we found under Manhattan.”

  “Exactly.” I traced my beam across the metal box to a connecting machine. “That thing must be an air compressor. It pumped air into this box. The air flowed through the pipes and filled ten separate networks of pressurized rubber tubes. They expanded, forming dummy versions of the trucks.”

  Ben gave me a doubtful look. “Dummy trucks?”

  “In other words, decoys,” Graham said. “Justin’s unit made a whole bunch of them during World War II.”

  “I see.” Ben tapped his jaw. “How did Justin switch them out with the real trucks?”

  The last few puzzle pieces slipped into place. I could see it now, the entire picture. “We know Justin’s crew prepped this area beforehand. They constructed the steel plate, covered it with rocks, and placed it over what was once an open cavern. Then they laid pipes and built a smoke deployment system along with an inflatable truck system. Finally, they covered the whole thing with dirt.”

  Ben nodded. “Go on.”

  “On the appointed day, Justin and his crew arrived. They parked the trucks close to the mesa, probably right above the deflated bladders, but kept the engines running. Meanwhile, Milt parked his vehicle farther away in order to keep an eye out for the U.S. Army. At some point, Justin probably walked over for a chat. Once Milt was distracted, the others went to work. The steel plate swung open and the crew drove the trucks inside the cavern. Immediately, someone pumped compressed air into the rubber tubes, inflating the dummy trucks.”

  Graham nodded. “They cut the engines and closed the plate. The next time Milt looked, he saw ten quiet truck-like objects in the clearing, anchored by the pipe system and weighed down by all that compressed air. Up close, it would’ve been easy to spot the fakes. But from a distance? In the middle of the night and during a fierce snowstorm? That’s a different matter altogether.”

  I nodded in the general direction of the smoke machine. “I imagine the switch was made early. Afterward, Justin returned to the trucks and slipped in here. They waited for the blizzard to cover up the tire tracks. Then they turned on the smoke machine. Thick columns of smoke blasted into the clearing. Someone else reversed the air compressor. The air flowed out of the tubes, deflating them and sucked them back into the pipe system. In fact, the pressure was so strong it sucked the bladders loose from the pipes and all the way back into this box. The tanks were gone and all that remained was some disturbed snow.”

  “Milt and the soldiers rushed forward to investigate, trampling the disturbed snow in the process,” Graham added. “All in all, a neat plan.”

  “It’s a good theory, but it depends heavily on the blizzard,” Ben pointed out. “What if it had been a clear night?”

  “My guess is that Justin picked out the travel day in advance, knowing full well a blizzard was in the forecast,” I replied. “If the blizzard was delayed, he could’ve pulled the trucks over for nonexistent repairs. He may have even had a back-up plan in the event the storm never materialized. We’ll never know for sure.”

  “What about the timing of it all? How did they know the U.S. Army had arrived? How did they know when to start the machines?”

  I shrugged. “They must’ve had a lookout somewhere.”

  “Hey everyone.” Beverly’s musical voice floated through the cavern. “I’m finished.”

  Speedily, we filed out of the cave and returned to the trucks. “Well?” Graham asked. “What’s the verdict?”

  “I drilled a bunch of bars and none of them contain tungsten.” She paused. “Obviously, I haven’t run comprehensive tests yet. But I’m almost certain these bars are the real thing.”

  Her words shot through me like a jolt of electricity. Any doubts I still harbored melted away. For decades, the gold bars had sat in secret, hidden from the world. Only a handful of people even knew they’d gone missing. But no more. We’d located one of the greatest treasures of all time.

  Fort Knox’s lost gold.

  CHAPTER 73

  The discovery, as well as the implications, were enormous. The media, no doubt, would have a field day. History books would be rewritten. The president’s gold standard would launch as planned. But deep down, I couldn’t have cared less.

  All I could think about was the question I had yet to answer. Namely, what had happened to Justin? His body was nowhere to be seen. And yet, the trucks were still here. Had he stolen the gold only to abandon it? If so, why?

  I turned to Graham. “Find K.J.”

  “Are you sure that’s a go
od idea?”

  “He needs to know about this.” I glanced at Beverly. “Go with him.”

  “K.J. doesn’t trust us.” She nodded at Ben. “But he might listen to him.”

  Ben shook his head. “Doubtful. Especially once he learns I’m helping you guys.”

  “I guess that’s true.” Her eyes flitted to me. “So, you two are staying here?”

  I nodded. “I’ve got one thing left to do.”

  She furrowed her brow and made as if to probe a little deeper. But instead she grabbed Graham’s hand and dragged him up the ramp and out of the cavern.

  “There’s something I don’t get.” Bending down, Ben gently touched one of the newly-drilled bars. “Justin went to a lot of trouble to get his hands on this gold. So, why is it still here?”

  “That’s what I’m hoping to find out.” I aimed my beam around the cavern. Once again, it fell short of fully penetrating the northeastern space.

  Slowly, I headed toward it. The darkness melted before my beam and I walked even deeper into the cavern.

  Casting my beam from side to side, I noticed scores of etchings on the walls. They looked old and the drawing style reminded me of the ones I’d seen on the summit.

  Many of the drawings showed rudimentary villages. Others depicted carvings of long-forgotten people. Priests giving sermons. Warriors fighting other warriors. Hunters attacking deer, buffalo, and elk.

  My eyes started to water, partly from airborne dust particles, but mostly from the stench of garlic. It was particularly pungent, as if I might stumble upon a garden of cloves at any second.

  My beam passed over a couple of cloth-covered objects. They were positioned in a rough circle, surrounded by canteens, leather bags, and dog-eared books. At the center of the circle, I noticed a giant pile of heavily charred wood.

  “Good lord.” Inhaling softly, Ben stopped short of the circle.

  “Well, I guess this explains why the gold’s still here.” I nudged one of the objects with my foot. Cloth fell away, revealing a skull. “Justin’s crew didn’t live long enough to spend it.”