The Sam Reilly Collection

by Christopher Cartwright

  “Okay.”

  The diving bell had been relocated directly next to the entrance to the pyramid, and a visiting doctor had remained on board, in case Sam and Tom needed resuscitating.

  Michael reached through the moon pool, where the doctor had already removed Tom’s helmet. “How’s he looking, Doc?”

  “His oxygen levels are very low, but he’s still breathing on his own,” the doctor replied, while holding a 100% oxygen mask over Tom’s face and squeezing a bag next to it in rapid, deep, movements to ventilate him. “Quick, get Sam’s helmet off so we can start working on him.”

  Michael and Veyron worked to quickly remove Sam’s helmet.

  His face was ashen, and it was immediately apparent that he was no longer breathing. Michael slipped a finger beneath the dive suit, and felt for a carotid pulse. “He still has a pulse, but it’s weak!”

  Veyron already had the bag valve oxygen mask set up. He quickly attached it to Sam’s face, and began to ventilate him with 100% oxygen.

  “Over here, Doc. Sam needs your help.”

  Monitoring equipment showed that his oxygen saturation levels were less than 30 % – a reading not ordinarily associated with life. And the heart monitor showed that Sam’s heart rate was very slow, no more than twenty beats per minute.

  Veyron continued to ventilate him.

  “His oxygen levels are coming up, but his heart rate is dwindling.”

  The doc drew up an injection of adrenaline and then gave it straight into the large vein in Sam’s neck.

  Thirty seconds later, a stupid, slightly intoxicated kind of grin came across Sam’s face.

  “Veyron,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “What took you so long?”

  *

  The next time Sam was awake, he and Tom were inside the dive bell’s hyperbaric chamber. His head still hurt, his thinking processes slower. Clearly his brain was recovering from its oxygen starved state.

  “You there Tom?”

  “I’m here. I knew they couldn’t kill you that easily.”

  “I thought I told you to keep your own damn Hydrox?”

  “And since when have I ever listened to your orders?” Tom replied.

  Sam tried to sit up, but found himself too dizzy to do so. “Thank you, Tom.”

  He didn’t hear the next words Tom said. Instead he heard the confident, bordering on arrogant, Harvard trained voice of Michael Rodriguez.

  “You’re awake, Sam. That’s great.”

  “Michael, what are you doing in the dive bell?” Sam slurred.

  Veyron approached and stared down at him. “He was saving your ass.”

  “You saved me?” Sam was confused.

  “It turned out that I was the only one left who could pilot the submarine,” Michael explained. “It’s you and Tom who really saved everyone.”

  “The miners?”

  “They got wet, but they didn’t drown – thanks to the two of you. It appears you live up to your reputation, Mr. Reilly.”

  Sam grinned. “We did it, but there’s going to be months of work to seal the other side of the tunnel and bring a team of archeologists down to explore the tomb.”

  “There is, but you saved them both. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I have a proposal for you Sam Reilly,” Michael said.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “It’s something particularly important to me. Much more so than the mine you just saved. I need some time to talk to you… but not here.”

  “Why not here?” Sam asked, stuck inside the hyperbaric chamber, most likely for hours.

  “For what I’m interested in, I need to talk to you alone. It’s not that I don’t trust your crew specifically. I don’t trust anyone with what I want to talk to you about.”

  “Where then?”

  “I have a yacht – a traditional Mayan sailboat. We both have work to do to get the next operations underway. You with your archeological dig, and me reestablishing a highly profitable silver mine. Not tomorrow – say the following day, Thursday?”

  Sam didn’t answer.

  “Come sailing with me. Just the two of us. It will be fun, and I can tell you what I need.”

  Sam had no idea what his most recent billionaire friend wanted, but he was intrigued. Besides, after today’s events, he could use a day out sailing an antique sailboat.

  Chapter Six

  The wind was light in the Gulf of Mexico, but the Mayan sailboat even lighter, and as Sam helped to raise its single sail, the little boat picked up speed. Sam grinned, his teeth white as the little ship’s sail. He felt like a boy on his favorite theme park ride.

  This was real sailing. Between himself and Michael, the two men owned more than most countries spent on their military each year, but now, they’d been reduced to a couple of overgrown children, trying not to fall out of the little boat.

  Michael surprised him with his competence. Clearly the man had spent a lot of time on the water. As the midday sun rested above the horizon, the light wind became no wind. Above their heads, the single sail flapped aimlessly.

  “Did you bring a little motor?” Sam asked.

  “No, did you?” Michael laughed.

  “No, I forgot that.”

  “Do you think the wind will pick up?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “That’s okay, that’s why I have these.” Michael said, showing him a pair of oars. “It’s only about three miles back to land. You’re in no rush?”

  “No,” Sam lied.

  He watched as Michael comfortably connected the oars to their rowlocks and start rowing. Strong chest, back and arms pulled on the oars, the outline of each muscle stood out, well defined. The man, Sam observed, had lost none of his strength over the years.

  Sam sat there enjoying the warm Mexican sun and the coolness of its water for half an hour in silence. Michael had brought him here for a reason, and that reason certainly wasn’t so that he could forget that the wind stopped like clockwork at midday, so he could have a long row back to the harbor.

  He looked at Michael’s eyes. They were hardened and focused on the rowing, his jaw clenched, and he was only concentrating on his breathing. Otherwise, his mind could have been a million miles away.

  You take your time Michael – it seems I’ve got all day…

  After an hour of hard work, Michael finally obliged.

  “Let’s have some lunch.”

  “Sounds good,” Sam said.

  “Have you ever heard of the Mahogany Ship?”

  “Which one?”

  “Come on, Sam… you know the one I’m referring to…”

  “The Australian legend of the Mahogany Ship?” Sam laughed and regarded the somber expression on Michael’s face.

  Is this seriously what today’s sailing trip was all about? He’s interested in an old myth of a shipwreck?

  “Of course I have. My mother’s Australian – moved to the states with my dad before I was born, but in my heart, I still see myself as an Australian.”

  “Some say it’s a myth. Others, like myself, still believe her to be out there, resting somewhere, waiting to be found, with answers for humanity.”

  “If it ever was there, it’s now long gone.”

  “Is it?” Michael’s face was almost curious.

  “Yeah, the last reference to it was in 1812, when it was found high up on the sand inland somewhere. Now, ships much older than that have been found to survive in sea water, but not fresh water, and never on dry land. No, if she did exist, and she was out of the water, she’s long gone…”

  “Would you like to bet on that?” Michael’s lips twitched into an almost crooked smile.

  “I’m not much of a gambling man, but sure. What’s the price?”

  Michael reached into his pocket, and pulled something out of his pocket. “How about this gold coin I recently found in Australia?”

  Sam examined the coin.

  It was a golden ducat with the
picture of King Charles the V at the front and a Spanish shield at the back. At the bottom of the coin was the date, still clearly marked: 1518.

  “The year Ferdinand Magellan left Spain in his attempt to circumnavigate the world,” Sam identified.

  “Ah, so you know your history? Good man.”

  “Magellan was a fantastic sailor.”

  “Yes. Now, did you know that Magellan was born in Portugal, and only came to the King of Spain when his own king had snubbed the voyage? And that the King of Spain, Charles the V, who was eager to challenge the Portuguese dominance of trade routes to India by finding a western route across the Pacific Ocean, offered to fund him?”

  “I’ve read a little about the story. How come?”

  “As well as providing him five ships, King Charles V had more than 200 gold ducats minted, specifically for his voyage, in 1518.”

  Sam didn’t bother to hide his now rising interest. “And you think this gold is one of those 200 ducats?”

  Michael ignored the question and continued with his history lesson. “This is what we know about the five ships that Magellan was given to achieve his task. The ‘San Antonio’ was wrecked off the coast of South America, while the ‘Santiago’ mutinied and returned to Spain. After the death of Magellan in the Philippines, the remaining three ships became too cumbersome for the few sailors who remained. Consequently, the ‘Conception,’ the largest of the carracks, was abandoned, and the ‘Trinidad’ and ‘Victoria’ attempted to return to Spain. The ‘Victoria’ was captured by Portugal, of course, and the ‘Trinidad’ became the only one to achieve the circumnavigation and return.”

  Sam nodded his head, as though he were enjoying the story. “But the ‘Conception,’ the largest of the five ships, was never seen again.”

  “Exactly,” Michael sounded excited as he spoke. “Lost, without a trace. But I think you and I have an idea about its fate, don’t we?”

  Sam ran his hand gently over the old coin. “Where, exactly, did you say you found it?”

  “It was discovered on a cattle property in central Victoria, Australia, by one of my company’s geologists, who was drilling core samples in search of deep alluvial gold.”

  Sam took the bait, “Okay, you have my attention, Michael. What would you like from me?”

  “I want proof that Spaniards were the first Europeans to discover Australia, which I am convinced they were. I need you to find the final resting place of the Mahogany Ship and her treasure.”

  Sam smiled. “First of all, if your geologist has truly found this coin deep underground in Australian soil, and you believe it was once from the Mahogany Ship, then surely all your geologist has to do is dig a little. I mean, it’s unlikely that the coin and the ship separated that much if they were both underground.”

  Sam waited, expecting the man to argue this point. When he didn’t, he continued, “As for proving that Spain was the first European country to reach Australia, it’s really kind of moot now, isn’t it? After all, The Mahogany Ship never returned to Spanish soil and the British took ownership of Australia in 1778 through colonization.”

  A slight breeze rocked their boat for a moment. Both men raised their heads as if scenting the strength and measure of wind. They smiled and shrugged at the false alarm.

  “The British considered Australia terra nullius meaning ‘nobody's land,’ Sam said. “As you can imagine, this didn’t please the natives who had been living there for the past 40,000 years. Not that they could disagree or have much say. Hard to carry on an argument when you have spears and your opponents have guns.” A wry grin came over Sam’s lips. “Besides, I’m not a treasure hunter.”

  “I know that – you think I didn’t do some research on you before I came here today? It’s precisely because you’re not a foolhardy treasure hunter that I want you. After your work on the recovery of the Magdalena, I knew you were the one I needed. The last grand airship now rests at the Smithsonian institute for millions of people to see each year and not locked away in some billionaire’s private exhibition, because of you. Besides, this isn’t about the treasure. I think I have a fair idea what makes someone like you excited, because, like me, you don’t need the treasure. You yearn for something else entirely. You want answers to questions centuries old.”

  Sam smiled. This rich stranger had worked him out. He didn’t care about the treasure, and he sure as shit didn’t care which European country wanted to credit themselves with the first discovery of an island that had been occupied by natives, who also had most likely come by boats centuries ago.

  “And what questions, exactly, would they be?” Sam asked.

  “Could such an engineering marvel as the Mahogany Ship have ever really existed? And if so, who built her?”

  “Okay, I’m interested. So, why didn’t you just take some big ass bulldozers and dig some more?”

  “I already did.”

  “Oh yeah, what did you find?”

  “An intricate system of underground caves, primarily filled with water.”

  “And you believe the coin came from one of those caves?”

  “Sure do. Would you like to go exploring?”

  “Are you aware the Australian Shipwreck Act prevents looting?”

  “I am, but this isn’t about the treasure. It’s about answers. How did such an exquisite ship ever end its seafaring days in the middle of a desert? Who built it? And how in the world did such a monstrosity sail using only wood?”

  “Okay, partner,” Sam said, mimicking Michael’s friendly tone. “You can count me in. When do you want to start?”

  “Let me know what you need and I’ll have it flown with you on board my jet, tomorrow.”

  “Okay, but I’ll have to leave the Director of Operations in charge of the cleanup here, including the archeological exploration.”

  “Do what you have to, but join me tomorrow.”

  “Done,” Sam replied, never one to be indecisive. He shook his head, knowing he’d been railroaded, yet he smiled good-naturedly when he agreed.

  “That’s great,” Michael said and flicked a switch behind his seat. A small motor kicked into life, and the Mayan boat started to cruise towards the beach. He gave Sam a slightly sheepish laugh before saying, “I had it put in, years ago, when I discovered the capricious nature of our winds here.”

  Sam joined him with his laugh, and wondered fleetingly whether he had just joined partnership with the devil.

  *

  Sam caught Tom in the galley, eating his way through a family-sized pizza. The smell of pepperoni filled the air as he explained that he had somewhere else to be right now. Tom couldn’t believe his friend would abandon him at the point of such an amazing archaeological discovery.

  “You want to leave me to conduct the most important project of our career, while you go off looking for a shipwreck that you already think is probably a myth?” Tom’s threw his pizza slice down in disgust, while his voice betrayed his incredulity. “This is your project – you’re the only one who’s even heard of the Master Builders.”

  “Calm down. I won’t be gone long,” Sam said, picking up the last slice. “Two weeks, max. In that time your recovery and exploration of the pyramid will still be in its infancy. I’m barely allowing you to lay down the groundwork.”

  “Something’s not right, Sam. I don’t buy this story.” The slightest of creases formed between his brows, displaying a concern he rarely visibly displayed.

  “Don’t you want to run the show?” Sam asked, shrugging off Tom’s concern and taking a bite of a hot and fresh pizza. Sam shut his eyes for a moment, savoring the taste.

  “You know I don’t have a problem with that. It’s the other thing that I’m not happy about…”

  “What?”

  “Sam. You and I have been best friends since I became the first person to ever beat the hell out of you at the 400-meter swimming meet in junior high school.” He frowned with disgust. “Then your dad let you skip school, so you could train every day u
ntil you beat me at the finals, bastard.”

  Sam laughed, in recollection of good times.

  “We have very few secrets between us, Sam. Heck, I even gave you the heads up that I was about to call off my engagement to Sarah. The only secret you’ve ever kept from me is what the hell happened in Afghanistan. Now, on the discovery of a ruin, which you tell me has something to do with an ancient race of Master Builders, and that has to do with the secret that you discovered in Afghanistan, you’re not even going to wait and run the archeological dive? Just so you can have a look at some old ship, which, if legend is correct, was never carrying anything of value and was left to dilapidate. Besides, it most likely had its timbers cut for firewood. No way. I don’t believe it…”

  “It is precisely because of that secret, that I have to go…” Sam replied mysteriously. “I’ll return in two weeks, at the most. Soon, you’ll understand.”

  “If the Mahogany Ship was so important to you, why don’t we both go after it, when we complete this job? Then you can put the full force of Deep Sea Expeditions behind the search.”

  “The Mahogany Ship was the first shipwreck hunt I ever went on with my father and Danny. We got close, too. There were a number of legitimate leads, but after two months, the three of us had to concede that it didn’t exist. But I always knew it was out there, and there’s no way I’m going to let some rich kid, who inherited the earth – or at least half the valuable ores held beneath it, to literally stumble upon it by chance. No, this is my find. I want to make certain it’s done right!”

  Tom could see Sam was emphatic. “Okay, and what about you?”

  “What about me?” Sam asked.

  “How are you going to dive on your own? Who are you going to use for your support crew?”

  “Rodriguez is going to dive it himself, and there’s an Australian commercial diver on his team, as well as a geologist. Also, Rodriguez has a team of riggers who will provide topside support.”

  “Do you even remember how much trouble you got into the last time I left you alone on a treasure hunt? I mean, you nearly died without my help, searching for that missing airship, the Magdalena.”