by Bill Blowers
The two groups commandeered several tables in Dargan’s Pub Saturday evening. Andrews circulated among them shaking hands, greeting them by name as they cracked jokes, cheered each other, cheered Harland and Wolff, cheered Titanic, and especially cheered Andrews, who in his usual self-effacing style told them, “No, it is you who should be honored here. You have done all the work.” Which of course just brought more cheers and shouts from the group.
Viko knew of Osgood Meineke, but the two had never met. After spending time with his crew of men, Viko went up to Meineke and in perfect German said, “Congratulations on a job well done. Let me introduce myself, I’m Viko Gracac.”
Meineke shook Viko’s outstretched hand, replied with a simple, “Danka, I didn’t know you were Deutsch.”
Viko laughed. Continuing in English, he explained that he was actually from Serbia, currently an American, and learned German at the University of Prague. Meineke nodded in approval and replied, “Well, you could have fooled me. Your German is flawless.”
Meineke took another swallow of Guinness and frowned into the glass. “Too bad these Micks don’t know how to make beer. I miss a good German brew.”
As the two stood there chatting, Thomas Andrews joined them. The three found a quiet table, sat down, ordered more ale. “You two are doing a great job; I wish I had a few more like you to head up work crews,” Andrews said.
Meineke asked Viko, “What are you doing aboard the ship?”
Andrews jumped in and answered the question. “Viko here is a damned good electrician and is installing the Marconi wireless.”
“An electrician you say? Tell me, Viko, have you ever worked on motor controls?”
Being careful not to appear overly anxious at this unexpected opening, Viko replied, “Oh, I have a little experience, perhaps I can take a look—that’s of course if Thomas doesn’t mind.”
Viko was among the top electrical experts in the United States. He had the knowledge and the ability to resolve the most complex of electrical problems or designs.
Andrews explained, “Osgood is installing the rudder control. In fact just yesterday they finished the installation of the ship’s wheel and part of the rheostat mechanism.” He turned to Meineke, “I didn’t know you were having any difficulty. What’s the problem?”
Meineke replied, “No problems, Thomas, just that this new idea of an electrical rudder control has me worried. I have never seen one like this before.”
“Viko, I want you to spend a few days with Osgood. You have done about all you can do for now with the wireless. Go ahead and take a look at the steering electrical controls. I will stop by on Wednesday and the two of you can brief me on your findings and recommendations.”
As Viko walked the few blocks to his room, his step was light and his fertile mind was alive with possibilities. Once again, fate had opened a door for him, giving him the access he needed to carry out the second part of his plan.
CHAPTER 39
Viko the Terrorist
Viko was given a detailed overview of Titanic’s steering controls, from the ornately carved wheel on the bridge to the thirty-ton rudder at the rear of the ship. Meineke pointed out every weak spot in the system, describing in detail how damage in those places could render the rudder immobile.
Viko listened to all of Meineke’s concerns with fawning concurrence. He shook his head in mock agreement, but he had found the weakest link in the steering chain, one that would be impossible to repair at sea, and one that would be child’s play to damage. He was delighted! The designers of Titanic never considered acts of sabotage; such possibilities simply did not enter their minds. Who would deliberately do anything to endanger the ship or the lives of its passengers and crew?
He had all the information he needed to carry out his plans to stop Titanic, but there was much to be done to carry it out.
The Californian was in port in London and would be returning to New York in two days. It was critical that he be on board. Viko couldn’t simply walk away from Titanic and his crew as such behavior would appear irresponsible.
The next day he burst into Thomas Andrews’s office looking appropriately distraught. He explained that Nikola had been severely burned in an electrical accident and there was fear for his life. He needed to leave immediately. Thomas understood, offered his concern, thanked Viko for all the help with the wireless and the steering control, and with a warm handshake bid him a safe journey.
As Viko left to catch the ferry to London, he was surprised that he could be so convincing with his lies. It seemed strangely effortless for him to speak in half-truths and outright fabrications, because at one time he had been scrupulously honest. He had changed. He kept reminding himself that the only thing that mattered was to succeed in his mission to bring Morgan to his knees, and Titanic was the key to it all.
Viko arrived in New York late in the afternoon of a fall day in 1911 and went directly to his apartment at 28 E. 12th Street. He took a hot bath and went to sleep. He once again descended into dreams of revenge. He welcomed his nightmares. The demons in his dreams had become his friends and mentors, constantly reminding him of his purpose.
Obtaining explosives in New York City in 1911 was an easy task because of the ongoing construction of high-rise buildings. Beginning with simple squib detonators, working in the sub-basement of his secret building, where the small explosions could be muffled, he perfected his remote charges. He made the necessary changes in his remote transmitter and receivers to include the fail-safe circuitry that would ensure no premature detonations.
Three weeks later, he completed the assembly of the explosive charges, one for the steering mechanism, one for the Marconi wireless, and a third to be used as a trial run.
Ideally, he would have made two of each detonator, using one of each as a test device and the other as the tactical explosive. But he felt that if he tested just one, he would have the assurance that his plan to stop Titanic would be successful. Unfortunately, his reasoning was flawed.
He packed his test explosive and detonator into a cushioned suitcase, boarded a New York Central train, and traveled north to the quiet Hudson Valley town of Peekskill. Located in the rugged hills just east of the Hudson River Gorge, Peekskill was a short distance from remote uninhabited valleys. It also happened to be just across the Hudson River from the US Army officer training college, West Point.
Residents of this area were accustomed to the sounds of rifle and cannon fire as the cadets went about their training exercises. One more explosion would not rouse suspicion or concern.
He checked into a small hotel and nearly had a heart attack when the bellman clumsily let the suitcase slip from his hand. Viko watched helplessly as it tumbled down a flight of stairs. Fortunately, it didn’t detonate, nor did its cover fly open revealing its deadly contents.
At two-thirty the following morning he quietly left the hotel through its back door, mounted the horse he had rented from a local equestrian center the previous evening, and using a flashlight to show the way, rode out of town following a remote logging road deep into the woods famous for the tales of Rip Van Winkle and the Headless Horseman.
The moon was full. It was deathly quiet except for the soft crunch of the horse’s hooves on the gravel. It brought back memories of his short time in Colorado and his love of the outdoors and horses. He decided that when this was all over he was going to move west, find a small ranch, and relax for his remaining days. This early morning, however, he had serious work to do.
After traveling for what he reasoned was three or four miles, he reined in the horse, dismounted, and found an old tree downed by decay. He placed his shaped charge, the same design that would shatter the steering mechanism of Titanic, in a location near a huge limb not yet touched by the decay. He fastened it down just as he planned to do on the ship and nervously connected the trigger mechanism. He rode a mile back in the direction he had come.
He stopped the horse and patted its neck. “Take it easy, boy.”
Viko watched as the horse’s ears turned back to hear his voice, and repeated, “Good horse.” He reached down into the saddlebag and located the trigger switch that would energize one half of the activation signal. He pressed the button and held his breath in anticipation. Nothing happened. He breathed a huge sigh of relief. This confirmed to Viko that the explosion could not be set off by an unintended radio pulse. Without both halves of the unique activation signal, the trigger mechanism would not operate, a precaution that ensured an unwanted premature or accidental detonation of the explosive charge.
After once again reassuring and calming the horse, he activated both switches and a muffled roar and brief flash of light came from the direction of the charge. The horse reared on its hind legs, startled by the unexpected blast. It was followed by the sounds of hundreds of squawking birds taking flight and many small animals scurrying away. Viko was able to control the horse. He calmed it with his soothing voice, patting it on the neck and repeating over and over “It’s alright, calm down, boy.”
Viko let the surrounding woods quiet down and listened for any sounds other than those of the gentle breeze in the trees and an occasional mockingbird practicing its repertoire. Hearing nothing that would cause alarm, he worked his way back to the downed tree. Much to his satisfaction, the tree limb, easily ten inches in diameter, had been neatly severed from the trunk.
“Not bad work, don’t you think?” Viko said in satisfaction as he looked at the results of his handiwork. The horse didn’t express an opinion but seemed anxious to leave, pawing at the ground and snorting, probably frightened by the smell of burned cordite residue.
Viko only planned to test one of his explosive designs, and he chose the more powerful of the two. The shaped charge that was to disable the Marconi wireless was of a different design, smaller and with less destructive power. He should have taken the time. This was the single error made in his otherwise elaborate and detailed planning.
Arriving back in Peekskill just before dawn, Viko left the horse tied in front of the equestrian center, took the saddlebags with him, and walked to the hotel. He gathered his belongings from his room, found his way to the train station, and boarded the next train into the city. As he sat there among the early morning commuters on their way to the city, he overheard someone complaining about West Point and their nighttime training exercises. He had been awakened at a quarter to four in the morning by an explosion. “And that must have been some huge cannon; sounded like it was over here in our woods.”
Viko smiled to himself.
CHAPTER 40
Viko’s Final Farewell
Viko made his final plans for the trip back to the shipyards of Harland and Wolff and his target, the RMS Titanic.
It had been several months since he had set foot into the rebuilt location of Tesla’s New York operation, and his disappearance was cause for concern. Tesla and Viko occasionally met at their apartment, but there was little communication between them.
Tesla was concerned by the sight of Viko. The change in his appearance, the heavy beard, the glasses, and the cap that covered much of his face all raised the specter that Viko was trying to hide himself. He certainly had the right to change his appearance, but when added to the total secrecy regarding his activities, his long unexplained absences, and his general surly mood it was obvious that something sinister was happening to Viko. He was no longer the talkative, helpful young man befriended by everyone. His eyes, normally bright, smiling, and steady, were like dark glowing embers set back behind thick-rimmed glasses, and they darted about as if constantly on the lookout for danger.
Nikola, Robert, and Katherine discussed the changes in Viko over dinner one evening. Tesla was very concerned as he watched Viko’s personality change. Katherine suggested that they invite him for dinner, and together they might be able to draw Viko out, to find out what was troubling him.
Two days before Viko was to sail back to Ireland for his final deadly work on Titanic, Katherine invited Tesla and Viko to dinner. The timing could not have been worse for Viko, but Tesla forced him into accepting by cornering him early one morning as he was sneaking out to his secret facility. Viko was left with no alternative but to say yes. He feared being found out if he protested, and he could not allow that to happen.
They arrived at the Johnsons’ at seven and were greeted by Robert. He knew of Tesla’s concerns for Viko and had heard of his change in appearance, but even with this knowledge, seeing the full beard and glasses, he looked at Tesla and mouthed “Viko?”
Tesla shrugged. “Meet the new Viko. I told you he’s changed.”
Robert let out a slow exhale. “That you did, but I was not quite prepared for the difference in him.” He then shook Viko’s hand, and as he led them into the library added, “I can’t wait for Katherine to see you. This should be interesting.”
Viko said little. Parts of him feared that he would say something that would give a clue as to his plans, and the other parts were controlled by the new Viko—parts that preferred to remain quiet and at arm’s length from others. Robert poured them glasses of wine.
As they sat there chatting, the sounds of children’s voices could be heard. They entered the room in a rush and squealed with delight as they saw Tesla, who bent his tall frame down to smother them in hugs and kisses. They turned to the bearded man next to him and clung to their mother, looking at him suspiciously.
Robert knelt down with them and explained, “This is Uncle Viko.” He motioned for Viko to bend down, and Robert took their small hands and rubbed them against Viko’s beard. Their fear evaporated instantly as he gently rubbed his bearded cheek against their tiny faces. They burst out laughing, shouting “That tickles!” and immediately begged him to do it again.
For her part, Katherine looked wide-eyed at Viko, and a smile came across her face. “Why, Viko, you look just like a sailor. The beard does you well. You are more handsome than ever. Do you have a girl in every port?”
Viko turned a bright red as he flushed with embarrassment; he always had trouble with compliments, and those that came from the women in his life were the hardest to take.
Katherine excused herself to put the children to bed. The three men sat down in the library. Robert refilled their wineglasses and turned to Viko. “Nik tells me that you have been off by yourself for some time now. What new wonderful thing have you got up your sleeve?”
Viko caught a quick glance between Tesla and Robert and suspected that this dinner was meant to be more than a pleasant evening. They were going to spend the evening prying information out of him. Voices within him told him to be on guard. He could do nothing to let anyone know that he was leaving for Belfast in the morning, nor could he give them the slightest clue to his intentions.
“I’ve needed a little time to myself, time to think and to consider my future.”
Tesla spoke up. “Viko, I could use you at the laboratory. The men miss you, and when you are around we get so much more done.”
Annoyed at being cornered like this, Viko replied, “Well, Uncle, perhaps you might learn something from that. If you could learn to follow through on things, if you could stop from messing everything up by flying off in all directions with your crazy ideas, maybe things would run better.”
Robert jumped in. “Viko, that isn’t necessary. Nik is just looking out for your welfare. We are all just looking out for your welfare. What is going on with you? Why the change in appearance? I have never known you to be so sullen.”
Viko glared at Robert. They were trying to learn his secret, one that must be protected at all costs. “I am about something that will benefit my uncle more than anything he has yet accomplished. I cannot discuss it for reasons that will become obvious in the near future.”
He carefully placed his wineglass on the table beside him, paused for a moment, and took a deep breath. “Please respect my privacy, that’s all I ask.”
Robert wouldn’t let it go; he had pushed Tesla past the edge in the past and foolishly
felt that he needed to do the same to force Viko back to some sense of normalcy. “Viko, you need to listen to us.” Both Tesla and Robert leaned in toward him as Robert asked, “What are you up to? We are your friends and your family; we have a right to know.”
That was all Viko could take. Jumping up from his chair, he shouted at Tesla, “I have spent the last twelve years of my life trying to save you from yourself. You have ruined every chance, walked away from opportunity after opportunity. My life is my own now—leave me alone!”
He opened the door to leave, paused, and said to Robert, “Goodbye. Thank you for your hospitality and your friendship. I regret it has to end this way.”
CHAPTER 41
The Final Solution
As the Californian left the shelter of New York Harbor and headed east along the southern shore of Long Island, Viko stood at the stern looking back at the receding skyline of the city. He did not regret the previous evening’s events. He was on a quest to restore the name of Tesla and to avenge the destruction caused by Morgan. One thing was certain in his mind: no one would wonder or care where he had disappeared to, and more importantly, no one would ever find out until he accomplished his mission. He had taken care to leave a detailed letter complete with all his plans and documents behind for Tesla to find at a later date.
Off to the port side of the ship Viko could just make out the slow rotation of the lighthouse at Montauk Point at the eastern tip of Long Island. He stood there for hours, lost in thought.
The crossing proceeded without incident, and Viko settled into the normal routine of the ship, sharing the duties of the wireless room with Peter Evans to keep himself busy.
He spent much of his spare time on the bridge continuing his education in the art of sea navigation. He found that he enjoyed working with the ship’s crew, made up mostly of sailors from England and Ireland who seemed to have been bred for a life at sea. These sailors were uncomplicated men, the salt of the earth, or perhaps the sea. They were the type who could take quick measure of a man and, if inclined, become lifelong friends. On his earlier crossings on the Californian, Viko had met all of them and had come to know them on a first-name basis. He joined them in their card games and could cuss, joke, and drink with the hardiest of them. He knew the locations of the best pubs in Liverpool, London, and Belfast, and when in port would often frequent those places, preferring to be among the loud boisterous crowds.