The Mahogany Ship (Sam Reilly Book 2)

by Christopher Cartwright

  Sam wasn’t sure whether or not Mick was attacking America’s stance on global warming. He was about to mention that this year’s cause of the Dead Zone was triggered by the mine, when Mick continued to speak.

  “I’m here to say that I would like to offer you our full support with your investigation.”

  “That’s very good of you, Mick.”

  “Not at all. It’s the least someone born into my position could offer. Do we have any idea what’s been causing it?”

  “As a matter of fact, we do,” Sam said.

  “Well, don’t leave me in suspense, son, what’s causing this disaster?”

  “It appears that blasting from your mine may have caused damage to a local Mayan tomb site of great archeological significance, which has in turn released large amounts of hydrogen cyanide into the waters.”

  “Cyanide? We don’t even use that on our mine site. We’re a silver mine, not a gold mine – I’ve no idea where that could have even come from.”

  “We don’t know for certain yet, but it appears the Mayans may have discovered the benefits of cyanide in separating gold many centuries before the Europeans did back in the seventeenth century. Somehow, your blasting appears to have opened an old Mayan stockpile.”

  “Okay, wow. So what can we do about it?”

  “We’re going to need to send a team in to find the primary source of contamination. Then, we’re going to need to safely secure it without damaging the archeological site, which will be performed by another team in conjunction with the Mexican government. Last, we’re going to need to repopulate the local fish.”

  “Not a problem, pal. Let me know what assistance you need, and I’ll give you my full support. Then send me the bill. If we caused this mess, I want to take responsibility for it. We’re not one of those companies that destroys the land and then moves on without repairing.”

  “That’s very good of you, Mick. You’ll be the first I’ve had dealings with to take responsibility with such equanimity. We appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem. I still don’t know how this could have been caused by one of my blasting sites. I mean, it’s very unlikely that the aftershock could have damaged the Ciudad Del Carmen,” Mick said, his voice confident, but not pugnacious. “Roberto Jackson, my manager of the mine, says that the Little Dipper has gone to great lengths to protect the valuable archeological relics of Ciudad Del Carmen. In fact, I made the decision a couple of years ago to halt tunneling down the southern long wall, because of the low level risk. Now, the mine moves more towards the north and east, well below the ocean floor.”

  “I know it does.”

  “Then why do you believe that it’s my mine that has caused all this damage?”

  “Because it wasn’t the Ciudad Del Carmen that was damaged.”

  The skin around Mick’s strong jawline tightened – only slightly, but it was the first time Sam had noticed the man’s confidence waver. He was probably only just now realizing that it was possible for his mine to be responsible for a disaster that may end up costing him millions to repair.

  “Then what Mayan archeological site were you referring to? There aren’t any other sites nearby.” His eyebrow rose with genuine curiosity.

  “A subterranean pyramid, found beneath the ocean seabed…” Sam pointed on a map of the Gulf of Mexico to the exact location, “right here.”

  “Shit.” Rodriguez’ face became ashen, and small drops of sweat dripped from his forehead despite the Maria Helena’s powerful air conditioning. “That’s exactly where the Big Dipper runs!”

  Sam hadn’t considered the significance until that moment. “If it breaks through, more than 400 feet of water will be pushed through at a force that will kill everyone inside the tunnel!”

  “Exactly… please forgive me for a moment, I must call my underground manager.”

  “Of course.”

  Sam watched as Rodriguez calmly walked towards the outer deck, where his helicopter now rested silently. The man spoke on the phone for a couple minutes. His legs were firm on the deck, not pacing, like so many do during a crisis.

  “What do you make of him?” Tom asked.

  “I don’t know yet. He seems like a nice enough guy, for someone who’s on the same playing field as my father in overall wealth, but there’s something that I don’t trust about him. I just don’t know what… maybe it’s just my inbuilt dislike of the ultra-rich.”

  “Yeah, I hate you rich guys, too…”

  “It’s nothing that he’s done or said. It’s what he hasn’t that concerns me.”

  “What do you mean? He sounded to me like he was happy to provide whatever help he could.”

  “That’s just it. Do you know what my dad’s response was when I told him what the Maria Helena was spending her time doing this month?”

  “No.”

  “He said, ‘but there can’t be much money in that sort of work.’ That’s what people in my dad’s caliber like to do. Avoid paying what they owe. This man sounds like he hasn’t even talked to his lawyers yet, despite potentially being liable for millions.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep my eyes on him. See what wildcard he thinks he’s holding up his sleeve.”

  Mick walked back, the serious look on his face now gone. “I’m sorry about that. I just called my underground manager. He’s pulling the team out of the tunnel now. I’ve more than a thousand Mexican workers several hundred feet below the waterline. If that thing breaks, every one of them will be dead before they know what hit them. We’re going to have to send a team through to close the entire tunnel, or risk killing them all. The biggest problem is that water is coming through small cracks, and there’s a practical river pouring down the tunnel. The pumps should be able to keep the tunnels open to my men, but the flowing water will make it very difficult to reach.”

  “With that, I might just have a solution…” Sam said.

  *

  Sam switched on the projector.

  It showed a hand-drawn diagram of the subterranean Mayan pyramid. A red symbol like a lightning bolt highlighted the point on the eastern tunnel of the pyramid where Tom had been nearly killed by the outward flowing hydrogen cyanide.

  “This is where the crack was found in the tunnel.” Sam pointed to the spot where the leak was first identified. “We’ll have no way of finding out how close the other side of the hole is to the Big Dipper, but for the blasting at that point to damage the enormous blocks, one must assume that it’s pretty close.”

  Mick opened up his computer tablet. “Here’s the schematics of the Big Dipper. Our tunnel draws directly below the subterranean pyramid – about ten feet below. For our blasting to cause that type of damage between the two structures, there would have to be an opening somewhere already.”

  “Perhaps the Mayans maintained a storeroom underneath the pyramid that we would be able to see?” Mick asked.

  “It’s highly possible,” Sam accepted. “So, you were considering sending in a team of miners, who would be willing to take the risk of entering the mine and blasting the roof in from about 50 feet below the pyramid?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mick, you pointed out that the risk would be high, and failure would result in the flooding of your entire mine.” Sam saw Mick nod in agreement and then, pointing to the diagram of the pyramid, asked, “What if we blocked the entrance to the pyramid here, and here?”

  “Then, the pyramid would remain lost forever?” Mick asked.

  “No, then your team could go in and seal the mine from below, losing no more than 50 feet of your long wall. Once that was complete, we would remain with a team of archeologists to remove the blocked entrance and explore the Mayan tomb.”

  “How soon can you do it?” Mick asked, his eyes wide with respect.

  Tom looked at his engineer, “Veyron – what do you think?”

  “I need to build the steel framework and then pump the concrete. Ideally, I’ll need about three days, given the location.”

  Sam
looked back at Mick to see if that would meet his new friend’s approval.

  It looked like Mick hadn’t heard it. Instead he was speaking on his cell phone, his body tense with anxiety. “I understand. Do what you can – pull everyone out.”

  “What’s happened?” Sam asked.

  “That was my underground manager. The water’s just burst through the tunnel.”

  “Shit. Okay, at least you got your workers out…”

  “That’s just it though… my underground manager just told me he pulled them from the Big Dipper, and moved them to Mine Shaft Four. He thought it would be safe there, because of the twenty miles between the two shafts. But that amount of water will fill that distance quick.”

  “Okay, how long do we have?”

  “Maybe an hour, at best.”

  “Can’t he just pull them out now?”

  “No, the entrance is blocked by the oncoming water. They’re trapped literally below the torrent of water.”

  “He thought he’d move them to safety, by mining below the water line?” Sam said, with no attempt to hide the contempt from his voice.

  “Mining is expensive. He was just trying to maintain production.” Michael spoke honestly, and without shame. It was obvious that mining was a hard man’s game. “Now, what are we able to do about it?”

  Sam looked at Veyron again.

  “It will break my heart, Sam, but we could use the Sea Witch to block the entrance to the pyramid. Her solid steel hull would plug the entrance.”

  “Do it.” Sam said, without another thought for the destruction of his 5-million-dollar machine.

  *

  Tom climbed down the reinforced steel hatch, and into Sea Witch’s cockpit.

  In the pilot seat, Sam sat, already commencing the startup procedure. Behind him, Veyron was going over a final check of the submarine. Next to Veyron rested a single piece of scrap paper – on top of which, a number of algorithms and mathematical equations were scribbled in careless handwriting.

  Ordinarily, he would trust the man’s calculations with the confidence that came by working with an expert, but on a complex dive like this, they might usually have weeks of preparation. Today’s mission was determined out of necessity, after discovering they had less than an hour to save the lives of more than 1000 people.

  The cable and hooks were attached to the submarine, ready for launch. Tom felt the sub shift as he strapped himself into the copilot seat.

  “Well gentlemen, I guess that’s my cue,” Veyron said. “This is where I get off.”

  “Thanks, Veyron,” Sam said without looking up from the instruments he was checking.

  “Hey Veyron.” Tom stopped him, for a second.

  “Yeah?”

  “How confident are you that this crazy scheme's going to work?”

  “That the Sea Witch will block the entrance to the pyramid?” Veyron frowned, narrowed his eyes and glanced up and to the left. He appeared to be performing mental arithmetic. “I’d say, at least 95%.”

  “That’s sounds all right.”

  “But that the structure of the Sea Witch will maintain its ability to withhold the pressure, and you aren’t crushed to death? I’d say, definitely better than 50:50.” Without waiting for Tom’s response, he then climbed the last rungs of the ladder, and said, “Best of luck, gentlemen.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Tom replied.

  Sam grinned. “Those odds aren’t too bad. Tom and I have survived worse.

  Above, Veyron closed the first hatch. The ratcheting, grinding sound of the mechanical locking mechanism being engaged echoed in Sam’s ears as its twelve hydraulic locks slid into place. The first red flashing light turned to green.

  Tom started work on his safety check sheet. As the submarine shifted under the crane’s steel wire, swinging mildly, he lurched but didn’t let the movement distract him.

  Above, the second light switched green – confirming that the airlock and outer hatch were both sealed.

  “Maria Helena, this is Sea Witch, ready for launch.” Sam’s voice was slow and confident, as though he were on any other mission.

  “Sea Witch, we’re commencing lowering now.” Tom could hear the concern in Matthew’s otherwise controlled voice. He was glad that Sam had left Matthew in charge of the mission room – not that he was in a position to help them if something went wrong.

  The motorized winch crank could be heard gently running out the cable until the Sea Witch reached the moon pool’s surface. The left porthole disappeared under the splashing water, and then the Sea Witch started to float.

  Sam turned on each of the propellers, confirming that she was ready to maneuver herself, and then said, “Maria Helena, we’re ready to disengage.”

  “Copy, Sea Witch, disengaging now.”

  They took one last glance topside through the small porthole, which allowed the submarine’s occupants to observe the attachment of the crane’s cables. Tom saw Veyron, thumbs up, giving the all clear sign.

  “Sea Witch, you’re clear. Best of luck.”

  Sam arched an eyebrow. “You ready, Tom?”

  “Yep, let’s do this.”

  Sam flooded the main diving chambers. Immediately the Sea Witch began sinking.

  Tom looked at Sam, who was now whistling, as the submarine dived, and said, “So, 50:50 chance we don’t get crushed to death before we exit the escape hatch, hey? How do you feel about those odds?”

  Sam grinned and Tom shook his head. Sam was giving him that damn demonic smile, the smile of a madman about to do something stupid and try to get away with it. But in Sam’s case, he usually did.

  “Listen here, Tom, and I’ll tell you exactly how we’re going to pull this off.”

  *

  Michael answered the phone.

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Rodriguez, the water has reached mine shaft number two and it’s already starting to overflow into three!” His underground manager sounded out of breath. “Once it reaches number four, there’s nothing we can do for the men below.”

  “Reilly’s in the water. They should have the hole blocked within the next 45 minutes…”

  “And if they don’t succeed in the next thirty, about 1000 miners are going to die.”

  “Understood, Roberto.”

  The briefest of smiles curled on Michael’s lips as he reflected on the wonder of human nature.

  Fascinating how my underground manager beat the odds and reached the surface, despite sending the rest of the men to work further below the waterline.

  *

  Sam could see the entrance of the pyramid up ahead on the sonar screen.

  Tom, who was now in control of the submarine, slowed to a crawl and asked, “Okay, it’s 40 feet ahead. Are you going to share your plan with me any time soon, Sam?”

  Sam attached his dive belt.

  “All right. Now’s probably as good a time as any. Basically, the plan, as discussed with Veyron, was that we would take Sea Witch close to the entrance of the pyramid until its massive pull sucks us in towards the main point where the tunnel narrows, just before splitting in two. Thus, we’re going to block the entrance, as a plug would a bathtub.”

  “That much I already knew.”

  “Good to see you were awake.” Sam handed Tom his new dive helmet. “Veyron’s done the math, and the Sea Witch will survive being used as a giant plug. What he wasn’t certain about was whether or not the sub would then implode after it had been weakened by the initial force of striking the wall as it blocked the entrance to the pyramid.”

  “Right… yeah, he said he gave us about a 50:50 chance of implosion.”

  “Based on calculations of our hull already being completely airtight, and then we would escape through the escape hatch, return to the diving bell, having achieved our mission…” Sam looked up, and, reassured that Tom was following, said, “But what if the Sea Witch was already flooded?”

  “You want to flood the interior of the sub?”


  “Sure, why not? It’s going to be wrecked after this anyway.” Sam’s face showed genuine disinterest.

  “The power will short out the instant the main chamber becomes flooded, and we won’t be able to maneuver it.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. After all, it’s going to be dragged in by the undercurrent anyway. Then, instead of imploding, it should just lodge itself in the opening. Probably…” Sam mused with a fatalistic grin. “Why, have you got a better idea?”

  “No… I don’t. So I guess we’re all out of options.”

  Sam turned the dive tanks to on, and locked his dive helmet.

  “You ready?”

  “No, but we don’t have much choice,” Tom replied, checking his Hydrox intake to his helmet.

  “Here we go.”

  Sam brought the Sea Witch slowly closer to the main entrance of the pyramid, until he noticed some of the controls were becoming soft and awkward. He still had control over the sub, but needed to exert more pressure to achieve it.

  “Okay, that’s it,” Sam said. “We’re committed now.”

  “Copy that. Overriding the airlock’s primary hatch.”

  The outside hatch remained firmly closed, while the middle hatch, which ordinarily ensured that the sub’s cockpit remained dry, stayed opened. There were a number of safety systems in place to avoid just such an event, but Tom had managed to override them.

  “Flooding her now,” Tom said.

  Water quickly filled both chambers of the Sea Witch.

  By the time they reached the entrance to the pyramid, the sub was completely flooded, and the pressure equalized with the outside environment.

  Without power, the Sea Witch spun through the turbid waters.

  Looking out the tiny porthole, Sam struggled to maintain a sense of direction as they bounced through the large entrance to the pyramid. Unable to determine how far along the tunnel they had reached, the sub suddenly jerked to a standstill and became firmly lodged.

  “Are we stuck?” Tom asked.

  Sam looked out his porthole. Water appeared to be flowing past it, faster and angrier than ever. “Yeah, we’re stuck all right, but not where we were supposed to be.”

  Tom ran his hand over his dive computer. All the instruments were working, and at this depth, he had a little more than an hour’s Hydrox supply – that was something, at least.