Atlantis Found dp-15

by Clive Cussler

  "I prefer calzone." Sandecker closed the connection. "Well," he said wearily, "they reached the aircraft and are in the air."

  "Then they're home free," said Little, suddenly buoyant.

  Sandecker shook his head dejectedly. "When Dirk mentioned rush-hour traffic, he meant they were under attack by security force aircraft. I fear they have escaped the sharks only to encounter the barracuda."

  Under its automatic guidance system, the Moller Skycar ascended into the night and skimmed across the black waters of the fjord, slowly increasing its altitude as it swept over the glacier flowing down from the mountains. If anyone on board thought that once they reached the Skycar, they had lifted off for a peaceful flight back to the NUMA ship waiting off Punta Entrada, they were sadly mistaken.

  Not one but four helicopter gunships rose from the deck of the Ulrich Wolf and set a course to intercept the Skycar. One should have been enough, but the Wolfs sent out their entire fleet of security aircraft to stop the fleeing fugitives. There were no fancy formations, no tentative skirmishing- they came on abreast in a well-calculated deployment to cut off the Skycar before it could reach the sanctuary of the mountains.

  Purchased by Destiny Enterprises from the Messerschmitt-Bolkow Corporation, the Bo 105LS-7 helicopter was designed and built for the Federal German Army primarily for ground support and paramilitary use. The aircraft chasing the Skycar carried a crew of two, and mounted twin engines that gave it a maximum speed of two hundred and eighty miles an hour. For firepower, it relied on a ventral-mounted, swiveling twenty-millimeter cannon.

  Giordino sat in the pilot's seat this trip, with Pitt monitoring the instruments, while the women huddled in the cramped rear passenger seat. In a repeat performance of the incoming flight, there was little for Giordino to do but alter the throttle settings to maximum speed. Every other manipulation was computer-controlled and operated. Next to him, Pitt was studying the pursuing helicopters on the radar screen.

  "Why, oh why, can't those big bullies leave us alone?" Giordino moaned.

  "Looks like they sent the entire gang," said Pitt, eyeing the blips on the outer edge of the screen, which were closing in on the outline of the Skycar in the center as if it were a magnetic bull's-eye.

  "If they have heat-seeking missiles that fly in and through canyons," said Giordino, "they may prove a nuisance."

  "I don't think so. Civilian aircraft are rarely capable of carrying military missiles."

  "Can we lose them in the mountains?"

  "It will be a near thing," Pitt answered. "Their only hope is to take their best shot from half a mile before we're out of range. After that, we can outrun them. Their speed looks to be about thirty miles slower than ours."

  Giordino peered through the canopy. "We're coming off the glacier and entering the mountains. Twisting through the canyons should make it awkward for them to get off a clean shot."

  "Shouldn't you be concentrating on flying this thing?" said Pat, staring uneasily at the mountains silhouetted in the faint moonlight that were beginning to rise up on both sides of the Skycar. "Rather than chatting among yourselves?"

  "How are you two getting on back there?" Pitt asked solicitously.

  "This is like riding a roller coaster," said Megan excitedly.

  Pat was more aware of the danger and not as enthusiastic as her daughter. "I think I'll keep my eyes closed, thank you."

  "We'll be thrown around by turbulence, and the sudden shifts of direction through the mountains, because we'll be running at maximum speed," explained Pitt. "But not to worry. The computer is flying the aircraft."

  "How comforting," Pat muttered uneasily.

  "The bad guys are coming over the summit at nine o'clock," announced Giordino, warily staring at the glaring lights beamed by the helicopters that lit up the jagged mountain slopes.

  The pilots of the assault helicopters played a smart game. They made no attempt to chase the faster Skycar through the hooks and crooks among the ravines that split the mountains. They realized they had one opportunity, and only one, to shoot down the strange-looking aircraft. They gained altitude as one and fired down into the ravine, their twenty-millimeter shells blasting through the dark in trajectories ahead of the Skycar.

  Pitt instantly realized the tactic and elbowed Giordino's arm. "Take manual control!" he snapped. "Stop us in midair and back up!"

  Giordino obeyed and completed the maneuver almost before the words were out of Pitt's mouth. He switched off the computer control and took command, bringing the Skycar to a gut-wrenching halt that threw them against their safety harnesses, then sending the aircraft back down the ravine in reverse.

  "If we attempt to fly through that barrage," said Pitt, "we'll be shot t shreds."

  "It's only a matter of seconds before they reposition and aim this way.

  "That's the idea. I'm banking on them turning and deflecting their fire behind our path, expecting us to fly into it. But we shoot forward again, forcing them to realign- the same trick we pulled on the patrol boat. If things fall our way, we'll gain enough time to put a mountain between us before they can reconcentrate their fire again."

  As they spoke, the gunships broke out of formation to converge their fire. In a few seconds, they had realigned and zeroed in, firing directly at the Skycar. It was the signal for Giordino to send the craft charging up the ravine again. The plan came within a hair of out-and-out success, but the seconds spent in reverse allowed the helicopters to move in closer. There was no concentrated barrage this time. The pilots reacted swiftly and began firing wildly at the rapidly fleeing Skycar.

  Shells ripped into the vertical fins of the tail assembly. The landing wheels were shot off and the upper part of the canopy suddenly shattered and flew off into the darkness, allowing a rush of cold air to flood into the cockpit. The murderous but inaccurate fire sprayed all around the craft, but mercifully the engines remained unscathed. Unable to evade the salvo by twisting the Skycar obliquely- since the sides of the ravine were no more than fifty feet from the widest part of the aircraft- Giordino jerked it up and down instead.

  The twenty-millimeter shells that missed chewed into the steep cliffs and threw up geysers of rocky fragments. Like a cat chased by a pack of dogs, Giordino hurled the Skycar up the canyon in a frenzied series of undulating maneuvers. Another two hundred yards, then a hundred, and suddenly, Giordino threw the aircraft into a sharp ninety-degree bank, skirting around a protruding rock-bound slope that blocked off the storm of shell fire.

  By the time the Destiny Enterprises' gunships had reached the promontory and rounded it, the Skycar had vanished deep into the blackness of the mountains.

  PART FOUR

  CITY UNDER THE ICE

  32

  April 10, 2001

  Buenos Aires, Argentina

  Limousines formed a long arc on the circular drive of the British Embassy in Buenos Aires. Ladies in ballgowns and men in tuxedos exited the long black cars and entered through high bronze doors into the foyer, where they were met by the British ambassador to Argentina, Charles Lexington, and his wife, Martha, a tall, serene woman with white hair cut in a pageboy. The social event of the year was a celebration in honor of Prince Charles's elevation to the throne, finally abdicated by his mother, Queen Elizabeth.

  The elite of Argentina had been invited, and all attended. The President, the National Congress leaders, the mayor of the city, financiers and industrialists, and the nation's most admired celebrities. Those who entered the ballroom to the music of an orchestra in eighteenth-century costume were enthralled with the sumptuous buffet prepared by the finest chefs imported from England especially for the event.

  When Karl Wolf and his usual entourage of sisters made their grand entrance into the vast room, they inevitably received the stares of everyone present. His personal bodyguard stayed close beside them at all times. In keeping with their family tradition, the gorgeous women were all wearing gowns of the same design but in different colors. After being greeted by
the British ambassador, they swept into the ballroom, their radiance envied by almost all the women present.

  Karl was accompanied by Geli, Maria, and Luci, who'd brought along their husbands, and Elsie, who had just returned from America. As his sisters and their spouses began dancing to a medley of Cole Porter tunes, Karl led Elsie to the buffet, stopping along the way to accept a glass of champagne from the liveried waiters. They selected a sampling of exotic dishes and moved into the library, where they found an empty table with two chairs next to a floor-to-ceiling bookcase.

  Elsie was about to lift a fork with a delicate cheese to her mouth when her hand froze in midair and her face took on a look of disbelief. Karl studied her dazed expression but did not turn around, instead waiting quietly for an explanation. It came with the presence of a tall, rugged-looking man with a lovely woman at his side, flaming red hair cascading to her waist. The man wore a tuxedo with a maroon brocade vest, and a gold watch chain hung across the front. The woman was dressed in a black silk velvet jacket over a slim-fitting, black silk ankle-length gown, slit on the sides. A crystal-beaded choker adorned her slender neck.

  They approached the Wolfs and stopped. "How nice to see you again, Elsie," said Pitt cordially. Before she could answer, he turned to Wolf. "You must be the infamous Karl Wolf I've heard so much about" He paused and turned to Pat. "May I introduce Dr. Patricia O'Connell?"

  Wolf gazed at Pitt as a cutter might study a diamond before lifting his mallet to strike his wedge and cleave a stone. Though he didn't seem to recognize Pitt, Pat felt a chill ripple up her spine. The billionaire was extremely handsome, but he stared from eyes that were cold and threatening. There was a hardness about him that suggested an underlying savagery. If he knew who she was, he showed no sign of recognition at hearing her name, nor did he display gentlemanly grace by rising from his chair.

  "Though we have never met," Pitt continued in a friendly fashion, "I feel as if I know you."

  "I have no idea who you are," said Wolf in perfect English, with just a trace of a Teutonic accent.

  "My name is Dirk Pitt."

  For a brief moment, there was incomprehension in Wolf's eyes, then his face slowly took on a look of pure animosity. "You are Dirk Pitt?" he asked coldly.

  "None other." He smiled at Elsie. "You look surprised to see me. You left Washington quite suddenly before we had a chance to chat again."

  "Where did you come from?" she snarled.

  "From the Ulrich Wolf," Pitt answered politely. "After taking a tour of the ship, Pat and I found ourselves in Buenos Aires and thought we'd drop by and say hello."

  If her eyes were lasers, Pitt would have been fried and grilled. "We can have you killed."

  "You've tried, and it didn't work out," Pitt replied casually. "I don't advise you to try again, certainly not inside the British Embassy in front of all these people."

  "When you reach the street, Mr. Pitt, you will be in my country, not yours. You will be helpless to protect yourselves."

  "Not a good idea, Karl. You'd only upset the United States Marines who escorted us here tonight under the protection of the American ambassador, John Horn."

  One of Wolf's hefty bodyguards moved forward then as if to assault Pitt, but suddenly Giordino stepped from behind and stood toe-to-toe with the guard, blocking any movement. The guard, who outweighed Giordino by a good fifty pounds and stood ten inches taller, looked down contemptuously and said, "What makes you think you're so tough, little man?"

  Giordino grinned condescendingly. "Would you be impressed if I told you that I'd just exterminated half a dozen of your fellow vermin?"

  "He's not kidding," said Pitt.

  The guard's reaction was amusing. He didn't know whether to be mad or wary. Wolf raised a hand and idly waved off his bodyguard. "I congratulate all of you on your escape from the Ulrich Wolf. My security forces proved most incompetent."

  "Not at all," Pitt replied amicably. "They were really quite good. We were very lucky."

  "From the report I received, luck had very little to do with it."

  It was as close to a compliment as Karl Wolf could ever give. He came slowly out of his chair and stood facing Pitt. He was two inches taller and relished looking down at this thorn in Destiny Enterprises' side. His blue-gray eyes glinted, but their fixed stare was easily matched and returned by Pitt, who was more interested in studying his enemy than engaging in a childish game of stare-down.

  "You are making a regrettable mistake in opposing me, Mr. Pitt. Surely you must be aware by now that I am dedicated to using every tool at my command to make the world as pure and as uncontaminated as it was nine thousand years ago."

  "You have a strange way of going about it."

  "Why did you come here tonight?"

  Pitt did not back off. "I have suffered a great deal of inconvenience because of your family, and I was determined to meet the man who's been scheming to play master of the universe."

  "And now that you've met me?"

  "It seems to me you've bet the farm on a phenomenon that may not take place. How can you be so dead certain the twin of the comet that wiped out the Amenes will return next month and strike the earth? How do you know it won't miss, as it did then?"

  Wolf looked at Pitt speculatively and smiled maliciously. It was obvious that a man of his wealth and power was not used to people who did not fear him, who did not grovel in his divine presence.

  "The coming cataclysm is an established conclusion. The world, as it is known by every living creature, will no longer exist. With the exception of my family, everyone in this room, including yourself, will surely perish." He leaned forward with a wicked grin. "But I'm afraid, Mr. Pitt, that it will happen rather sooner than you think. The timetable's been advanced, you see. The end of the world… will begin precisely four days and ten hours from now."

  Pitt tried to hide his shock. Less than five days! How was it possible?

  Pat didn't bother to hide her dismay. "How could you do this? Why have you gone to so much trouble to keep it a secret?" she demanded impassionedly. "Why haven't you warned every living soul on Earth so they can prepare for whatever happens? Have you and your precious sisters no conscience? Have you no compassion? Don't the deaths of billions of children torment you, like any sane person? You're just as bad as your ancestors who slaughtered millions-"

  Elsie shot to her feet. "How dare you insult my brother!" she hissed.

  Pitt slid his arm around Pat's waist. "Don't waste your breath on these purveyors of slime," he said, his face taut with anger. The confrontation was getting too tense. But he couldn't resist getting in one more remark. He looked at Elsie and said pleasantly, with a chilling grin, "You know, Elsie, I'll bet that making love to you and your sisters is like making love to ice sculptures."

  Elsie hauled back to slap Pitt, but Pat lunged forward and grabbed her arm. Elsie snatched it away, shocked that someone other than a family member would treat her roughly. For a moment, both Pitt and Wolf thought the two women were going to go at it, but Pat smiled brazenly and turned to Pitt and Giordino. "I'm bored. Why don't one of you gentlemen ask me to dance?"

  Pitt decided it was wiser to hang around and attempt to milk the Wolfs for more information while he had their attention. He made a slight bow to Giordino. "You first."

  "My pleasure." Giordino took Pat's hand and led her to the dance floor, where the orchestra was playing "Night and Day."

  Pitt said to Karl Wolf, "Very clever of you, accelerating the schedule. How did you do it?"

  "Ah, Mr. Pitt," Wolf said. "I must have some secrets to myself."

  Pitt tried a different tack. "I compliment you on your ships. They are masterworks of marine architecture and engineering. Only the Freedom, the sea city built by Norman Nixon of Engineering Solutions, comes close to matching their magnificent scale."

  "That is true." Wolf was intrigued, despite himself. "I freely admit that many of the qualities we built into the Ulrich Wolf came from those designs."

 
"Do you really think those immense vessels will float out to sea in the wash from the giant tidal wave?"

  "My engineers have assured me their calculations are precise."

  "What happens if they're wrong?"

  The expression on Wolf's face suggested that he never considered the thought. "The cataclysm will come to pass, exactly when I said it would, and our ships will be safe."

  "I'm not sure I'd want to be around after the earth was devastated and most of the humans and animals became extinct."

  "That's the difference between you and me, Mr. Pitt. You see it as the end. I see it as a bold new beginning. Now, good night. We have much to do." And he gathered up his sister and walked away.

  Pitt desperately wanted to believe that Wolf was simply another lunatic, but this man's passion and that of his entire family went far beyond mere fanaticism. Pitt stood there, uneasy. No man this intelligent would build an empire worth many billions of dollars to throw it away on a crackpot scheme. There had to be an underlying rationality, one that was too horrifying to envision. But what? According to Wolf's own timetable, Pitt now had only four days and ten hours to find the answer. And why was Wolf so forthcoming about the deadline? It was almost as if he didn't care that Pitt knew. Did he simply think that it didn't matter anymore, that there was nothing anyone could do about it? Or was there some other reason in that devious mind?

  Pitt turned and walked away. He stepped up to the bar and ordered an anejo, 100 percent blue agave tequila on the rocks. Ambassador Horn came and stood beside him. Horn, a light-haired small man, had the look of a hawk gliding in a spiral over a forest, more interested in his sovereignty than scanning for a meal.

  "How did you and Karl Wolf get along?" he inquired.

  "Not too well," answered Pitt. "He has his mind set on playing God, and I never learned to genuflect."

  "He's a strange man. No one I know has ever gotten close to him. Certainly, there's been no indication why he would believe in this fantastic story of the end of the world. I've told my colleagues here and in Washington, and they say there's no evidence at all of such an event coming- at least so far."