The Sam Reilly Collection

by Christopher Cartwright

  I wonder if you could be coaxed into working again.

  Sam had inspected them earlier, and had said that given enough time, he’d get them working again. She assumed, at that time, that he’d meant to repair them in a workshop or something similar. In reality, someone would probably just replace all four of them with brand new replicas, if the Magdalena ever made it out of here.

  Her mind returned to the problem at hand. That’s if I ever make it out of here, for that matter.

  Aliana didn’t allow herself to dwell on the thought. Instead, she decided to find the manhole and climb into the giant canopy. From the outside, it looked entirely intact. But who knew what that meant in terms of the structural stability of its aluminum. Few things are designed to survive 75 years in a cold, wet environment.

  She climbed up the aluminum ladder, unscrewed the manhole cover, and entered the canopy.

  As far as she could tell, it seemed to be intact.

  Exploring the canopy took longer than the rest of the airship. But again, as far as she could tell, the canopy, if filled with helium or another lighter-than-air gas, could, in theory, fly again.

  She climbed back down and entered the main gondola, where the skeleton of Fritz Ribbentrop stared back at her. His metal suitcase was still securely chained to his wrist.

  What were you doing here, Fritz? And what are we going to do with your virus?

  *

  Something didn’t seem to make sense to Tom as he banked the helicopter to the right in an attempt to get away from the strong reflection of the sun glistening off the waters of Lake Solitude.

  He started to again descend off the mountain, but about two minutes later, he understood what was wrong. The powerful reflection he’d been trying to avoid, was moving in an up and downward direction! While that might mean very little to the casual observer, to a helicopter pilot, who had spent years flying over oceans and lakes, he knew that the up and downward flicker of the sun’s reflection was only normally seen in the ocean or large lakes which had swells or ripples, whereas the waters of Lake Solitude lay perfectly still in the morning sunlight.

  It must be a signal from Sam!

  He knew it as intrinsically as his body knew how to maneuver the complex controls of the helicopter to return for a second fly-over. There in front of him, sprawled over a rocky outcrop on the edge of the lake like a lizard absorbing the sun’s warmth, lay Sam.

  At first glance, he looked as though he might be dead.

  But, then he saw his friend sit up, smile at him, and raise the thumb of his left hand as if trying to hitch a ride from a passing motorist.

  Tom carefully lowered the helicopter until he stopped its descent, hovering just above the rocky outcrop, mindful of the tall pines that lined the mountain to the east.

  To his left, Tom watched as Sam opened the cockpit door, climbed inside and sat next to him in the front passenger seat.

  “So, what took you so long?”

  *

  Tom immediately took off as soon as the door was closed.

  “Okay, so what’s our next step?” he asked.

  “Can we get back to the Tyrol crow’s nest?”

  “No, not from what I hear. Your ‘friends’ know that you’re here, and they're pretty pissed off about it. I’m sure they have some of their goons on hand, just waiting for your return.”

  “Okay, in that case, let’s go to Lugano. There’s a commercial dive shop there, and we’re going to need to get some heavy supplies to rescue Aliana.”

  “Okay, you’re the boss,” Tom replied, as he started to input the details into his flight GPS.

  Along the way, he waited patiently for Sam to tell him everything that had happened, including the discovery of the Magdalena, and about how Aliana was still trapped in the cavern below.

  “We’ll have to return with enough equipment to rescue Aliana,” Sam said, through his chattering teeth. He looked dangerously cold. “We’re going to need to get some dynamite too. At the moment, there’s several hundred tons of rubble blocking our way.”

  “Gotcha.”

  When Sam stopped speaking, Tom said, “There’s just one problem.”

  “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  “There’s an army on its way to Lake Solitude.” Tom looked over at Sam’s serious face as he continued, knowing that Sam wasn’t going to like the next part, “They’ve discovered that it’s the final resting place of the Magdalena.”

  “How the hell did they figure that out?”

  Tom then told him about the man who had contacted him while he was in Paris, and also how the man had told him that he was unable to stop what was now proceeding in full motion – a race to retrieve the priceless cargo aboard the Magdalena.

  Next to him, Sam Reilly’s face displayed his incredulity at this piece of news.

  “Well, that explains how they’ve managed to keep finding me.”

  “Now what are we going to do about it?” Tom asked him.

  “Simple. We’ll just have to make sure that she’s no longer there by the time they arrive…”

  Chapter Twenty Five

  John Wolfgang heard the sound of falling rubble.

  It might have been a massive cave-in, for all the sound that it made. A moment later, Brent came through the tunnel and reassured him that they’d finally broken through.

  John checked his watch.

  It was 0100. Just as Brent had advised him, it had taken 48 hours to accomplish. “Very good. Did you find their bodies?”

  “No, but it’s definitely where they went.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  Brent handed him a climbing bag, and said, “We found this at the bottom. Looks like one of them must have lost it when they came down the tunnel.”

  John looked at the bag. His eyes bulging with recognition at the sight.

  “Very good. Secure the location and I’ll be down in a few minutes. I have to speak to the buyer before we kill them. No one goes any further without my orders.”

  Brent acknowledged him, and then added several additional orders in typical military fashion to his men.

  John felt his head spin.

  It was the first time since the Magdalena had first reared her wicked head that he’d actually felt physically unwell. He had seen that climbing bag before, and so he should remember it, since it was the same bag he’d bought for Aliana all those years ago.

  Why hadn’t she told me that she was climbing with him?

  He had already considered the full extent of what might have happened. If Blake Simmonds knew that the tunnel reached the Magdalena, then perhaps they knew it too? If so, how would they try to escape with her?

  Where would they come out? Then, as he looked out at the valley below, the answer finally became apparent to him…

  Lake Solitude – of course!

  John then considered how he could get there in time. If they had found the Magdalena, and then succeeded in finding a way out, it would mean that they already had more than a two-day head start on him.

  It was time, John decided, to ensure he had a second chance. He would never be able to flush them out from this end and secure Lake Solitude with his 5 men, even as efficient as they were. If he had more time, he could bring in additional help, but he hadn’t expected these complications at all. The only chance he’d have was to bring in the Navy SEALs, who were already based near the lake, awaiting any additional information he could offer them.

  If he reached Sam Reilly before he left the Magdalena, he could kill him, retrieve the virus, and save Aliana. She’d be mad as hell, of course, but he could deal with that later. After all, there were much bigger things at stake here than the life of just one man. If they did manage to find a way out before John reached them, the SEAL team could capture them, and he and Aliana could receive amnesty from the U.S. government.

  John placed the call.

  “We were right about something,” he said, “Lake Solitude was indeed where the Magdalena disappear
ed. You’ll need to secure the site within the next twelve hours if you want to catch them.”

  “We’ll do that. And John…” the directness of the woman’s voice sent a chill down his spine.“You’d better hope we get a return on our investment this time. We’ve already spent a lot of money toward this, and if we don’t have something to show for it, we’re taking you in.”

  “Don’t worry. If I can’t produce the goods this time, I’m counting on you taking me in.”

  *

  Lugano was a little lake town in the north of Italy, shadowed by the Dolomite mountains in the distance. Sam considered what he would need as Tom landed the helicopter in a small park at the town’s southern tip.

  “There’s an adventure and climbing store here that meets the needs of tourists who are attracted to the lake and the Dolomite ranges. I’m not sure how much diving equipment they’re likely to have on hand,” Tom said.

  “That’s okay. For what I’m after, we won’t need much dive gear.”

  After the short flight, during which the heating manifold was set to full, Sam’s body temperature was beginning to return to normal, and with it, his usual level of confidence. The two men split up as Tom went to find out where he could get his hands on dynamite.

  It was a clear sunny morning, but as cold as winter.

  “Good morning,” Sam said to the man standing behind the counter, as he entered the adventure store.

  “Good morning. Can I help you?” It was the welcoming voice of a Canadian, drawn to the town for the beginning of its peak climbing season.

  “Yes, I have a list of the equipment I need,” Sam said, as he handed a slip of paper over the counter.

  “An inflatable zodiac with a small two stroke engine, one large propane tank and burner, 200 feet of rope line, diving equipment for one person, a dry suit – 2 inch thick, and dual air tanks.” The sales assistant’s left eyebrow raised in a tiny gesture, as though he couldn’t imagine what Sam wanted with such a list of equipment, and then said, “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, is there a marine mechanic here?” Sam asked.

  “Just around the corner. Go out the door, and head up the street two blocks and you’ll find a guy who’s open.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be back shortly to collect the gear, if you could please have it ready for me,” Sam said, handing over Tom’s Deep Sea Expeditions company credit card.

  “Not a problem.”

  Sam moved quickly to locate the mechanic.

  He walked into the shop, knowing exactly what was needed.

  Walking through the store, Sam discussed his requirements with the salesperson, and after a short while, the mechanic returned with them.

  He then purchased 20 gallons of fuel.

  Sam thanked the mechanic who’d helped him, walked out with a cart filled with parts, which he then added to the other pile of dive gear, and waited for Tom to arrive with the now-refueled chopper.

  He watched as Tom landed the helicopter, and then, leaving the rotors spinning, Tom carefully stepped out of it, lowered his head, and walked up to greet him.

  “I’ve got some bad news,” Tom said.

  “What now?”

  “He called again.”

  Sam knew instantly who Tom was referring to, and he took great pains not to show his concern, as he asked, “What did he say?”

  “They’re not making an attempt at diving Lake Solitude as we expected they would.” Despite the good news, Tom’s face showed that his concern was justified. “Instead, they know about the ancient tunnel into which you and Aliana must have fallen, and they are tunneling down from above to reach it. Based on his predictions they’ll breakthrough in another eight hours.”

  “Okay, let’s get a move on then.”

  They both boarded the helicopter, and as Tom flew over the southern tip of the Dolomite ranges, Sam spotted something.

  At first glance, he assumed that it was just a climbing team on the Via Ferrata. A closer examination revealed that they were all armed with military assault rifles.

  “Oh shit, look at that,” Sam said, pointing below.

  “Who the hell are they?”

  “There must be a hundred or more of them. Whoever they work for, they’re not taking any chances, are they, now?”

  “Yeah, but who do you think they work for?” Tom asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we know that John Wolfgang and his team of mercenaries are trying to break into the tunnel you and Aliana fell through. So, if his team is in there, who the hell is responsible for these soldiers?”

  “I have no idea, and I don’t intend on sticking around long enough to find out.”

  “We just might be able to rescue Aliana, but we’ll never have time to get the Magdalena’s treasures out of there,” Tom said. “There are just too many of these guys on the mountain.”

  “There still might just be a way.”

  “How?”

  “What if we fly the Magdalena out of there?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Tom’s face displayed his incredulity. “You want to fly a 75-year-old dirigible, which crashed, mind you, when it was new, off the mountain?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And, they called me crazy.”

  “So, are you going to help me?” Sam asked.

  “Of course, I will. What are friends for?”

  *

  It was almost six o’clock in the evening. The last rays of the sun were edging their way to the side of the mountain behind Sam Reilly. As he quickly prepared his dive equipment, in the distance, he could hear the sound of Tom performing the tedious task of drilling holes in which to place the sticks of dynamite.

  “How much longer do you think you’ll need, Tom?” Sam asked over his radio.

  “It’ll be ready to blow within the next three hours.”

  “Okay, let’s sync our watches in five, four, three, two, one. Mark 15:05.”

  “Mark 15:05,” Tom repeated.

  “Let’s blow this thing at 18:05.”

  “Copy that. Will do.”

  Just as Sam was about to make his dive, he asked, “How certain are you that this is going to work?”

  “I’ve laid dynamite a number of times before. We’ve both done it, underwater. I know how to lay the stuff, but I just don’t know for certain how big this thing is. I’ve added another 25 percent on top of what you estimated. You tell me. How confident are you about your estimation of the rock wall?”

  Sam connected the last of his regulator fittings together and then said, “Okay, don’t add any more than that. You don’t want to blow apart the rest of the mountain. The Italian government’s going to be pissed as hell as it is, when they find out we’ve blown up part of their mountain without approval.”

  Then, Sam dived under the water and started to make his descent to 30 feet, the depth at which he’d swum out of the underwater tunnel eight hours earlier. The tunnel was narrow, and he struggled with his underwater bag, which carried the equipment that was so essential for his plan to work.

  When he eventually made it to the other side of the rock wall, he was amazed he’d managed to get through there without using any dive equipment. The ordeal had really caused him to push himself to the edge of life and death.

  “Can you still hear me, Tom?”

  There was no answer.

  As Sam expected, the solid rock wall precluded any form of electronic communication. Hopefully, the next time he made contact with Tom, the dynamite would have already worked and they would be on their way to freedom.

  That is, if it did work.

  If it didn’t work, he couldn’t imagine what their next move would be.

  Sam kicked his fins slowly as he made his way through the enormous tunnel. It was a long way to go, but like most trips, this time it seemed to be a much shorter distance now that he had his dive equipment and could breathe.

  In the distance, the green glow that he’d never forget could be seen illuminating the u
nderground lake in which the Magdalena was trapped.

  His heart raced as he thought about the prospect of seeing Aliana again.

  As his head broke the surface of the lake, Sam could see her face. There were tears in her eyes.

  “You made it!” Aliana said, as she raced to him and threw her arms around his wet body. “And you came back for me! Everything’s really going to be okay?”

  Sam kissed her. It was a passionate kiss, but it ended sooner than he would have liked.

  “It sure is. But we’re going to have to work quickly. We don’t have much time,” Sam said.

  “Why, what’s happened?”

  “I’ll explain on the way, but first...” Sam said, looking at his watch, which showed that it was already 17:10, “we have a few things that need to be done.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  John Wolfgang climbed up and over the rock inside the tunnel. On the other side were a number of glowworms, a smaller tunnel, and the shoreline of an underwater stream. At the end closest to himself, John noticed a steel bolt in the limestone wall. Its appearance suggested that something had been tied off on it at a previous time.

  Had there been a boat tied there?

  John waded into the water, followed by Brent and the other mercenaries.

  It was cold, and the water deepened quickly. After taking his third or fourth step, he was unable to stand anymore, and started to swim. He was a slower swimmer than the mercenaries, but his need to get there first kept him focused.

  John sensed that he was getting near.

  He looked at his watch.

  It read: 18:00.

  Up ahead, he could hear a man and a woman speaking in fast, urgent words. His team was getting close. It drove him to swim faster through the tunnel.

  Then he heard what sounded like a loud clap of thunder.

  Brent looked at him and said, “That’s either a cave in, or someone’s just used dynamite.”

  *

  Sam watched as the large air bubbles underneath the Magdalena reached the surface. Aliana had looked at him as though he were mad when he told her that he needed to lay some dynamite. After 75 years, it was going to take a lot to release the Magdalena from the hold of the silty bottom, or at the very least, months of digging – and there was clearly no time for that.