by Scott Cook
My imagination liked to play that scene in my head. That, or in my mind’s eye, I’d shine my light back down the corridor and a uniformed crewman would be shambling toward me, complete with a grinning skull who’s empty eye sockets glowed with a crimson horror.
“Got it!” Brody almost shouted.
I jumped and had to clamp my groin muscles to keep from tinkling in my wetsuit, “Jesus, Jack!”
He laughed, “scare ya’? You been standing there imagining zombie Nazi sailors coming after us? Or let me guess… that scene from Jaws four… the one where Brody is in the freighter with the shark?”
I stammered something in surprise as he so accurately pegged my wild imaginings.
He chuckled and squeezed my arm, “Don’t worry about it. It’s easy to do in here. And don’t be surprised… my name’s Brody, for Christ’s sake! And believe me, every wreck diver whose spit in his mask over the past thirty years knows that fuckin’ scene. Come on, let’s drag this bastard out of here. It’s heavy but underwater one of us can handle it. We’ll take turns. We’ll get it back to the mini and open her up if we can.”
As we exited the torpedo hole in the diesel engine room, I noticed that our friend the Goliath Grouper was still there, watching us. It’s big pectoral fins flapped as it maintained its vigil, almost as if he was bidding us a good day and that he hoped we enjoyed our tour and to please come again. And of course, reminding us not to forget to pick up an authentic Ariovistus souvenir at the gift shop.
After a five minute decompression period at five atmospheres and then another five at three, Ariel equalized the pressure throughout the sub and we were able to open the lockout chamber to the control room and cargo area. She and Lambert stepped into the diving area and eyed our treasure.
“That the skipper’s safe?” Lambert asked.
“Sure is,” Brody replied, “A bitch getting it in here. Thing must weigh two hundred pounds.”
“How do we get in?” I asked.
Brody chuckled, “Have to cut in. Damn thing’s been shut tighter than a nun’s cooter for over seven decades. Luckily, though, these safes aren’t that hard to crack. Simple combination lock. I’ll drill out the hasps and if we’re lucky, she might pop open. They’re water tight and the drop in pressure may help.”
It took him ten minutes using a small electric drill with a tungsten bit to drill out the edge of the safe’s door where the bolt would slide into the frame. It wasn’t a bank vault, after all, and without the combination, no one aboard would’ve been able to get in without an effort that would’ve drawn attention.
Brody was right, though. Once he finished drilling, he slid a heavy slotted screwdriver into the spot where he’d drilled and pressed. With a surprisingly small amount of effort, the door swung open with an audible pop and there were the captain’s papers, as dry and preserved as the day he’d stored them.
Lambert whistled softly and I let go of a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. Ariel shot me a grin.
“Here’s living history, folks,” Brody said, pulling out the ship’s log, “of course, it’s all in German…”
“Do you speak it?” I asked.
“A little, “he replied, “But Imani here does. Take a look, babe.”
She took the leather bound book and opened it, flipping to the last few pages that held writing, “let’s see… October nine, thirteen forty-three hours. Entered Gulf of Mexico via Yucatan Channel. Submerged, proceeding at seven knots, course zero two zero… Later that day, surfaced for five hours to charge batteries… October ten, twenty-one hundred hours… surfacing and coming all stop to recharge. Position twenty-seven degrees, eighteen minutes north by eighty-five degrees twenty minutes west.”
“Right before we spotted him,” Lambert said.
“That’s the last entry,” Imani stated.
“Probably never got back to the log once the action started,” Brody said, “Reinhardt would’ve made a note to himself to fill in the log later… Christ, the fully intact and perfectly preserved log book of the last Nazi cruise. Considering the political implications and the nature of this post-war attack… that book alone is probably worth millions. Hell, so’s Arthur Turner’s log if we could retrieve it.”
Lambert shot him a look at these last statements. Brody only shrugged, “Sorry, Master Chief. But this is living history. An extraordinary event that nobody… well, very few people… know about.”
Brody kept digging through the safe. He found an open envelope with the official seal of the Reich and the Kriegsmarine on it. He carefully removed it from the safe and handed it to Imani, “is this what I think it is?”
Imani looked through several folded sheets of velum and grinned, “Oh yes… even more than that. From the Admiralty… required to proceed to southern Atlantic, avoiding all confrontation, etc.… re-provision in Argentina if necessary but not preferred, etc.… proceed to Gulf of Mexico to American state of Florida’s northeastern Gulf coast… there to initiate operation Well Spring… no details on that, though.”
“That’s odd,” I stated.
“No, wait…” Ariel said, pulling another sheet from the envelope, “This might… oh… it’s a letter. Short but to the point…”
She was obviously shaken by what she was reading. We all waited quietly for a moment before Brody finally prompted, “Well?”
Ariel cleared her throat, “My dear captain Reinhardt. The Reich has been betrayed. The world is now against us and the Zionists have used their evil powers of persuasion to cloud the vision of the world. Our conflict, I’m afraid to say, is lost. Yet all hope is not. You, my dear Karl, are my final hope. For although we shall be forced to capitulate shortly, it doesn’t spell the end. We shall only bank the fires of the movement, yet the flame shall not die. You, my captain, shall be the spark that reignites the flame and scorches all those who oppose the master race…”
She had to pause and collect herself. Only I knew that she wasn’t in fact a native of the United Arab Emirates but an Israeli national who’s descendants, possibly even grandparents, were victims of Hitler’s final solution. She schooled her reaction and carried on admirably.
“…you will deliver the packages stored in your torpedo tubes,” Ariel continued, “You will distribute them as I’ve outlined below. Operation Well Spring shall be the salvation of the Reich and you shall be our greatest hero… blah, blah, blah… signed Herr Wolfe.”
“That’s what Hitler called himself, isn’t it?” I asked quietly.
“Yes,” Ariel said, folding the letter and putting it back into the packet, “But there’s something else…”
“What is it, sweetheart?” Lambert prodded gently when he saw how pale she had become.
Ariel swallowed and locked eyes with me for a long moment. She took a deep breath, “Herr Wolfe’s orders weren’t just to dump the bacteria into the aquifer… At least four of the twenty canisters would be released at regular intervals in the surf line as the landing party withdrew.”
It took several long moments for the full implications of that statement to filter down into my psyche. It hit me, and as I watched the confusion on Lambert and Brody’s face slowly begin to transform into understanding, I felt my stomach lurch.
“My God…” I breathed.
“Yes,” Ariel confirmed, “That means that this strain of streptococcus can and does survive in seawater.”
Chapter 33
“So could we have picked up the bug from inside the U-boat?” I asked as I gently eased the control stick to the right.
Brody and I sat at the control station of the mini. He was giving me a quick crash course on handling the vessel. It was a lot easier than I’d have thought, too. The central joystick controls the rudder and planes and there were a series of dials and sliders that controlled the two ballast tanks, each of which was actually three separate tanks that could be independently controlled for buoyancy and trim. Then there was a simple throttle such as you might find on any boat. A separate lev
er for transmission and one for thrust.
Ariel stood just within the hatchway watching. She smiled reassuringly, “I can’t imagine so. Those canisters are one-inch thick concrete lined with glass.”
“On a ship that was torpedoed and sunk,” I pointed out.
“Even if one or two of them cracked or burst open,” Ariel stated, “It’s been seventy-five years. The bacteria would have long since leaked away. No, I think you’re fine. On the other hand… getting them out of there intact…”
“Not a job for us,” I stated matter of factly.
“Agreed,” Brody said, “I think it’s time we got some authorities involved. Although… maybe not instantly…”
“How’s Hank?” I asked Ariel.
I didn’t bother to debate Brody’s desire to acquire a few more souvenirs. Couldn’t really blame him, under the circumstances.
“He’s taking a nap in back,” Ariel said, “I laid back a seat and got him a blanket. I think this has been very exciting for him. You’re doing quite well, by the way.”
“A natural,” Brody said, “Who should we call about our find?”
I blew out my breath, “Well… I’ve got a buddy in the Coast Guard. Theoretically, Miss Lambert is with the CIA. Although I’ve heard from a reliable source… heard that she’s been… dismissed.”
Brody narrowed his eyes at me, “What’s that mean?”
“It means she got herself fired,” I said, “I don’t know why. And this little mission may be her wedge to open up a door back inside the club.”
Brody groaned, “No wonder she didn’t want us to find these subs.”
“She’s still here though,” I said, “So what difference does it make? At any rate, we should inform the Federal government. Those canisters either need to be recovered or utterly destroyed in a way that ensures none of that bacteria gets loose. Assuming it’s still viable after all this time. Could that be, Imani?”
Ariel sighed, “I’m afraid so. It’s entirely possible this batch is totally inert… but it’s also possible that it isn’t. Many strains of bacteria can survive under extreme conditions of deprivation. Or even go dormant. There’s only one way to tell.”
“Yeah,” Brody grumped, “Break one out, open it up and hope we don’t melt down like the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark.”
I grimaced at the apt visual.
“It still has to be ingested or requires exposure to broken skin,” Ariel stated, “It should be possible to bring one up and examine it in the lab.”
“Fuck that!” Brody exclaimed, “It ain’t worth it. We’re salvagers not bio-hazard specialists. No. We call the Coasties or the Navy or Homeland Security or whoever, but I’m not risking my ass trying to pull out seventy-five year old flesh eating germs. Not this guy.”
I had to agree. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, not at all.
Ariel exhaled slowly, “I don’t blame you. It was just an idea. Let’s get back to the ship and we’ll discuss it with everyone.”
“I hope,” Brody said, giving me a surreptitious glance, “That we could do at least one more dive… in both boats. I’d like to get Turner’s safe too. Maybe a few baubles to justify the expense.”
I only shrugged, “Not my call to make. I was hired to find U-2626 and I did. Far as I’m concerned, my job here is done. I wouldn’t refuse another dive, though.”
Brody squeezed my shoulder, “Another convert! Okay, I’ll get in touch with the ship.”
I left the co-pilot’s seat to allow Ariel to slip in. I’d gotten pretty good at basic maneuvers but the docking procedure was well beyond me at that point. She needed to backstop Brody as he brought the mini into the hangar.
They positioned us just under the grabbers and I felt a slight shudder as they clamped on and began drawing us in.
“Buoyancy negative ten percent,” Ariel said.
“That keeps tension on the winches,” Brody explained to me, “We let the machinery above do the work.”
We rose partly out of the water and then I saw Ariel adjust the tank controls, “Positive buoyancy.”
“Now that we’re in,” Brody explained over his shoulder, “We make the sub positive so she’ll float over the doors as they close and cradle us.”
Which they did. The big hangar doors swung closed and the small submersible was gently jolted as she settled onto the support rails beneath. Then there was the sound of pumps rumbling outside and the water level in the hangar began to subside.
“Hangar is sealed,” McClay’s voice said over the radio, “Water evacuated. You’re go for exit.”
I went aft and spun the wheel on the lockout’s lower hatch. It popped open with a slight hiss and cool air puffed inside. Hank Lambert appeared in the after hatchway.
“We’re home, Master Chief,” I said.
“Good,” Lambert noted, “Got to see a man about a horse.”
“We’re going to arrange a little meeting in the dining saloon,” I informed him, “go over everything we’ve seen. I think it’s time we got the authorities involved. I think your granddaughter will be pleased at that.”
Lambert nodded and began making his way down the ladder. Brody followed and only Ariel and I were left inside the mini. She closed the hatch and waved me into the rear compartment.
“We’re safe in here,” she said quietly, “I can deactivate all communications from the control compartment.”
“Okay.”
“What do we do now?” She asked.
“What we said,” I offered, “Get ahold of the U.S. government and let them handle it. Let the bureaucracy take over.”
She bit her lip, “But the Lambert’s now know where the U-boat is.”
I shrugged, “And so does the Mossad and MI6. And possibly the CIA if Audrey Lambert has her way. The good guys win. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“What I want,” She said sternly, “Is to make sure that horror down below doesn’t get into anyone’s hands! Scott, it’s even deadlier than I’d feared…”
“Then we make sure the government disposes of it,” I reassured her, “It’s not like streptococcus isn’t available elsewhere.”
She shook her head, “you don’t understand. I spent a little time reading more of the papers in that safe. Karl Reinhardt had a personal journal. In it, he described the bacteria in more detail from the verbal report he’d gotten. It’s extremely virulent. It’s got an extremely high metabolic rate once in a healthy environment. It can reproduce rapidly, spawning new generations in less than a day! Even a vial full of that disease could wipe out a substantial area before the bug ran its course.”
I sighed, “Then it’s vital nobody but the right people, maybe the CDC, gets its hands on it.”
“It should be destroyed,” She declaimed vehemently, “It’s a horrific disease as sick and twisted as those who created it.”
“Can that be done with a reasonable expectation of success?” I asked, “Can we be absolutely sure that an explosion or something wouldn’t simply allow it to spread out here?”
She bit her lip again, “Possible. I don’t know.”
“All right,” I said wearily, “Let’s go see what the gang has to say. I’m still for contacting the proper authorities. For the time being, this location is secret and the cargo is entombed.”
Ariel suddenly kissed me with an intensity that belied the moment. She gripped me tight and thrust her tongue into my mouth urgently at first and then more sensually. After a long moment, she pulled back and smiled at me.
“Wow,” I offered.
“The world needs more men like you,” She whispered.
I chuckled, “My friends would probably disagree. One of me is more than enough!”
She chuckled and shook her head very slowly, “Somehow I doubt that.”
There were six very pensive faces seated around the dining table when we arrived. Audrey was the first to speak.
“You found the U-boat,” She said flatly, “Did you confirm the canisters are onboard?�
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“No,” I replied, “Not exactly. It’s probably a bigger job than we think. They’re sealed between the inner and outer torpedo doors. That means they’re probably dry, unless the doors have broken open since the sinking. But it also means that we’d have to either open the inner or outer doors to get at them… and something tells me that’s going to be a job.”
“Impossible?” She asked.
”No,” Brody said, “We’ve got plenty of tools for jobs like that, including underwater cutting torches.”
“Excellent,” Audrey said with evident approval. I didn’t like how she sounded. I couldn’t put my finger on it, exactly, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. There was triumph in her voice but no joy…
“Well, we won’t be salvaging them in any case,” I said firmly as Ariel and I took a seat, “This cargo can survive in open seawater. This makes it much more dangerous. It’s a hazardous material that should be handled by professionals.”
“Oh, I know,” Audrey said, “We’ve suspected that all the time. But I don’t know anybody better suited to a recovery operation than Brody here. It’s what you do, Jack. So I think you’d better get to work.”
“Negative,” I said more firmly, “This is too dangerous and Jack doesn’t even have his usual crew. Only one extra certified diver, as far as I know, and I’m no salvage expert.”
“I’m sure Doctor Tariffa is certified,” Audrey said with a grim smile, “Probably has a lot more experience than you, Jarvis. Not to mention she’s a part of Jack’s crew. Sounds like we’ve got what we need.”
“I’m sorry,” Al-Rajid cut in, “But I think that Scott and Jack are correct. What is your opinion, Imani?”