Knight's Cross (The Shipwreck Adventures Book 3)

by Christine Kling

April 22, 2014

  There’d be no way to know for certain if it was the Upholder until they got some video of the wreck. The sonar image was of an intact sub lying on her side in about a hundred and sixty feet of water. Most of the hull below the waterline was in the shadow of the sonar scan. If she were holed, it would probably be down there, as nothing was visible from what they could see of the deck.

  During the morning, as they’d been towing the fish back and forth across the grid, Theo had been running Internet searches and had managed to find both photos of the profile of the U-class subs and an interior layout diagram. But it was difficult to be certain if what they’d found was a U-class sub or not by looking at the two grainy black-and-white photos.

  The forward end of Shadow Chaser II’s main hull was devoted to dive gear and a workshop. Only the Enigma was stored in the aft toy garage behind the engine room. Tanks, regulators, compressor, and the long stainless-steel tool bench were in the bow.

  Riley followed Cole onto the foredeck when he went up to grab his gear. He pulled his old wetsuit out of the hanging locker and stepped into it. Ever since seeing that image on the screen, he’d been beaming, happier than she’d seen him in months. Nothing like finding a wreck to get her man excited.

  She’d brought a printout of the interior layout of the Upholder. “I want you to take a look at the layout when you get a minute.”

  “Okay,” he said, but he didn’t stop suiting up.

  “What I’m worried about,” she said, “is if Theo’s first guess is right, and they all died down there in the sub as they ran out of air. How will you get in?”

  He stood up and zipped the front of his suit halfway up his chest. “As they say, I’ll cross that bridge . . .” He grabbed his tanks and tossed a regulator over his shoulder.

  “I’ll get your mask and fins,” she said.

  Just before they headed for the stern, he reached over and grabbed a small pry bar.

  Theo was already at the reel for the Enigma’s cables, and the crane’s harness was attached to the lifting points. “Ready when you are, Skipper,” he said.

  Cole passed through the gate to the dive platform, sat down, and started pulling on his gear. Just before he put on his mask, he said, “I’ll take a look at that layout now.”

  She ran him through it. “Torpedo tubes forward, then the fore ends for crew’s quarters and storing torpedoes, then crew mess, officers’ quarters, the galley, then the wardroom. Aft of that is the control room. Hopefully, you can enter via the forward hatch here or through the conning-tower hatch.”

  “Got it,” he said.

  Riley stood up.

  “Hey,” he complained, “aren’t you even going to give me a kiss for good luck?”

  Finding this wreck really has made a difference in him, she thought. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to kiss her. She knelt next to him and made sure to remind him of what he’d been missing all these weeks.

  When Cole slipped into the water, Riley took her position at the crane. She lifted Enigma, swung the crane around, and lowered the ROV to the surface. In the water, Cole disconnected the lifting harness, and Riley moved the crane back aboard. By the time she got to the tablet to control Enigma, Cole was already on his way down to the wreck. She fired up the thrusters and sent the ROV after him.

  “Pay it out fast, Theo. Cole’s already ahead of us.”

  “I haven’t seen him this cheerful since you two got to Turkey.”

  “You noticed that, too, eh?”

  “Now you have a basis for comparison. The funk he’s been in these past couple of months is nothing compared to how he was during those years he felt he had to lay low and let you think he was dead.”

  She slowed the ROV down as it caught up to Cole and illuminated him with the headlights.

  Theo continued. “You know, Cole built this boat to retire on. He was going to live the safe life for all of us. The thing Cole Thatcher doesn’t want to admit to himself right now is that he loves trying to outwit these bad guys. And that’s got him mad. Mostly mad at himself, not us.”

  The visibility was excellent on the descent. The water around Cole was growing darker. “You may be right. You’ve certainly spent more time with him than I have.”

  “But that doesn’t mean I understand him.”

  Riley watched the screen and felt an eerie sense of déjà vu as Cole approached the submarine.

  Theo said, “What’s happening down there? Has he reached the wreck?”

  “Yeah, he’s just arriving. I can see the conning tower now.”

  She gradually became aware of a strange noise. She wasn’t used to all the sounds on the new boat yet.

  “Do you hear that?” Theo asked.

  “Yeah, what is it? A pump or something?”

  “No, that’s not a noise on this boat. Is there another boat approaching?”

  The noise grew louder. Riley set the tablet down on the table and climbed the ladder to the sky-lounge deck. She scanned the horizon but didn’t see any boats.

  “It’s getting closer,” Theo said. “Is it a plane?”

  When she shifted her focus to the sky, she saw the helicopter flying south down the coast.

  “It’s a helicopter,” she said. “Mystery solved.” Riley started to climb down the steps when she noticed the chopper had turned, and it was now heading directly for them. “Great,” she said. “Looks like they’ve decided to buzz us.”

  “Have we got a Q flag flying?”

  “Yep. I got worried yesterday after our conversation and dug it out. Our yellow quarantine flag is very visible.”

  Once the chopper had turned toward them, it came on quickly.

  “Do you think it’s officials?” Theo said.

  “Not sure. I can’t see any markings.”

  The helicopter flew straight to their boat, slowed, and hovered overhead. The noise grew superloud.

  “What can you see?” Theo shouted.

  Riley ran down the steps and stood next to Theo so he could hear her. “Looks like there’s only one man besides the pilot. He’s leaning out the window.”

  “What’s he look like?”

  “He’s white with short-cropped white-blond hair. Fit guy. Probably in his forties. He’s taking photos with an SLR camera.” She couldn’t tell Theo she recognized the man. She hadn’t yet told either of them about her discovery at the boatyard. He was the one on the security video. The one who’d set the bomb on their boat. “Wait. He just disappeared out of the window.”

  Through the deck speakers, she heard a voice calling on the VHF radio. “Shadow Chaser II, Shadow Chaser II, do you read?”

  “Riley, do you think that’s them?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll go answer.” She climbed up to the wheelhouse and grabbed the radio microphone. She paused briefly before answering. It didn’t feel right that they hadn’t identified themselves. But if it was officials, it would be better to play along. “To the vessel calling, this is the Exploration Vessel Shadow Chaser II.”

  She waited for them to respond. She heard nothing. She repeated her response, but still there was nothing.

  Then the noise of the helicopter began to recede. She ran out on deck and saw them flying off in the direction they had come. She ran down the steps to the aft deck.

  “What happened? What did they want?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I couldn’t get anybody to answer me.”

  “Let’s worry about that later. Right now, we’ve got a diver down.”

  “Shit.” She spun around and looked for the tablet. She saw it on the table and grabbed it. The video screen showed nothing but dark, blue water. She spun the ROV around and sighted the submarine.

  “Riley, what’s going on?”

  Her hands were shaking as she tapped on the tablet screen, working Enigma’s controls. The camera panned up and down the length of the submarine.

  “I see the sub, but there’s no sign of Cole.”

  D
jerba Zarzis Heliport

  Djerba Island, Tunisia

  April 22, 2014

  The helo pilot, a young Frenchman, had been too talkative during the flight. Virgil hated small talk. When he had a question, he wanted an answer. Nothing more.

  “What’s the range of your chopper?” he asked after they had landed and the pilot turned off the engine.

  “About four hundred kilometers, but that is assuming there is no headwind and I am not carrying—”

  “Do you fly to Malta?”

  “No—it’s possible I could make it, but it is just on the edge of the range.”

  “Thank you.” Virgil grabbed his backpack from behind his seat and climbed down onto the tarmac.

  The pilot hurried around the helicopter and handed Virgil a business card. “Customer satisfaction is very important to my company. This business is very competitive. I would appreciate it if you would go to our website and leave a review.”

  Virgil nodded, turned away, and started walking toward the terminal. He crumpled the card in his hand and tossed it onto the ground. So many of these pilots were military trained. Now that they were pulling all the forces out of the Middle East, of course there was more supply than demand for chopper pilots on the civilian side. What was needed was a damn big war. It would solve so many problems.

  Before he entered the terminal, Virgil stepped off to a remote corner outside the building and dialed the executive director’s personal cell.

  “It’s me,” he said.

  “Did you locate them?”

  “Yeah. Their boat popped up on the Marine Traffic website when they got here to Djerba. Their AIS signal was picked up by the authorities at the local port.”

  “I didn’t ask you how you did it, Virgil.”

  “Right. Okay. I chartered a helicopter, and I just flew out to take a look. They had some cables running into the water, and I only saw two people on deck. Thatcher was probably on a dive. If he’s diving, I’d say they’ve found something. I got the GPS coordinates.”

  “You’re sure it was them?”

  “I called their boat on the radio just to make sure. The woman answered.”

  “How long would it take you to charter a dive boat and get out there?”

  “Port Houmt Souk is the only marina on the island. I’ll find out if they have a dive boat there. If so, I can rent a car and drive over there. It might take a couple of hours.”

  “Go ahead. Get out there as soon as you can. In the meantime, I’ll get in touch with the Tunisian authorities. We’ll see if we can get a local patrol boat to stop their diving.”

  “Good idea. If by some chance they do find something, I don’t want to lose them again. They’ll figure out how I found them, and I doubt that method will work a second time.”

  “What about using the helicopter to search again?”

  Virgil shook his head. “It doesn’t have the range.”

  “In that case, we can’t lose them.”

  “Agreed.”

  Aboard the EV Shadow Chaser II

  Mediterranean Sea off Djerba Island

  April 22, 2014

  Cole adjusted the fit of the regulator in his mouth and cleared his ears one more time as he pulled his way, hand over hand, down the descent line toward the dark shadow on the bottom. They had dropped their light anchor on nylon line earlier, both to mark the wreck’s location and to help hold their position. Visibility was good, but the light grew dimmer the deeper he descended, and the world around him turned a dark blue. He reached up and switched on his headlamp as he approached the submarine, which was lying on her side, the deck facing him. The sudden light changed all the color in the world around him. The surface of the sub, which moments before had looked like black iron, was now revealed to be covered with a rust-colored layer of algae and crustaceans. Some of the barnacles appeared white as they reflected his light.

  Cole swam right up to the tilting deck and, with his gloved hand, grasped a riveted piece of metal to steady himself. On the deck in front of the conning tower was an intact deck gun. The barrel of the gun hung down, pointing at the sandy bottom. Even the rails on either side of the gun were still standing.

  Behind him Cole heard the whirring of Enigma’s little thruster props, and the light from her big LED spots lit up even more of the deck. Aside from the growth, there didn’t appear to be any damage all the way up to the knifelike bow. He identified the foredeck hatch through the growth on the deck, but it was sealed and closed up tight.

  Cole turned aft. He started to swim around the high side of the conning tower to check out the aft end of the sub, but realized he didn’t hear any whirring behind him. He turned and waved at the video camera on the ROV. He expected Riley to waggle the joystick up topsides and make the little underwater robot dance or something. He got no reaction. Maybe they were having some kind of malfunction.

  There was no time to worry about it. He checked his remaining air supply, knowing he was limited on bottom time. Determined to find a way into the sub on this first dive, he continued around the conning tower, leaving the ROV behind. Again, he found no deck damage.

  A school of sea bream darted through a swarm of bait fish as Cole swam over the high side and then kicked his way down to inspect the hull. It didn’t take long to find the hole. The dented area about six feet across appeared almost insignificant until he made out the inward gash in the metal tube that ran up toward deck level. Cole imagined that water would have been gushing in, down in the engine room and probably into the control room as well. Depending on the depth where they were hit, the water pressure could have been pretty intense. As the air poured out that slit and the water gushed in, they must have had enough time to turn and fire off their own torpedo, if they hadn’t already done so. While archeologists might never know who fired first or how the battle unfolded, Cole imagined some enterprising doctoral candidate would make his thesis out of trying to figure it out.

  He swam back up to the conning tower and, to his great surprise, he found the hatch open. Once the sub had settled on the bottom, the hole in the hull would have continued to fill her with water. Had the last survivors tried to open the hatch and swim to the surface? Had the internal pressure forced it open? There were more mysteries than answers.

  Cole put his head down into the hatch, and his headlamp illuminated the iron rungs of the ladder that led into the dark hole. He pulled his second high-powered flashlight out of a Velcro holder on his vest. The water inside was siltier, but he could see the clear passage to the floor below.

  Diving in small spaces is extremely dangerous work, and many of the wreck and cave divers Cole had known during his years at university were no longer around to tell their stories as a result. He swam over to the side of the conning tower and looked down at the Enigma. They had planned for the video camera to be his backup. If he got into trouble, they’d see it on the video, and Riley could dive down with an extra air tank or two to give him time to figure things out. It wasn’t a perfect plan, obviously, but it was the best they could do on short notice.

  He swam back to the hatch and looked down into the darkness. Even though he’d been wreck diving for most of his adult life, he always felt that combination of excitement and fear when he was about to enter a wreck for the first time. The hole was small, barely big enough for a diver with double tanks on his back. The possibility of getting his gear caught on something in there was very real. He looked back aft of the conning tower, where he saw Enigma hanging in the water, still not moving. His instructors would have called him crazy for taking the risk of entering the wreck—and totally insane for doing it alone.

  He went down the hole feetfirst. A spool of hundred-pound-test monofilament on his vest, tied to a carabiner hook, served as his guideline. He attached the hook to the top rung and fed out the line as he descended into the sub. He took it slow.

  When his view opened up into the control room, Cole felt a familiar sadness wash over him as he thought about the men who had w
orked there. The crew of the Upholder had cheated death on so many patrols. It was fitting they’d taken a U-boat with them on their last. He would be proud to be able to add that to Wanklyn’s record.

  Away from any sunlight, there was little marine growth on the chart table or the various instruments. The mysterious dials and pipes and valves looked remarkably well preserved, such that it was impossible not to imagine the men who had last stood on that deck. But he wasn’t there to get sentimental.

  For an instant he felt a flash of panic when he kicked with one of his fins and raised a cloud of silt. In that moment, he doubted his sense of direction. He’d turned himself around when he’d let go of the ladder, and he couldn’t remember which direction was forward. Slowing his breathing, he turned back and grasped the ladder. He remembered the layout of the deck at the top of the ladder. He made sure his guideline was spooling out, and Cole started to pull himself forward toward the wardroom.

  The two tables with benches on either side identified the officers’ dining area. The galley should be just aft of that.

  In the galley, Cole saw the first evidence of the damage the sub had sustained. Broken white crockery and glass bottles littered the floor. The surfaces that had once been stainless steel were holed in a few places by corrosion. The sink was obvious, but it was full of what Cole assumed had once been cooking pots but were now a melded pile of debris. Cole saw the door to the chiller box next to the sink. He thought of his father’s use of the word frozen.

  The handle was gone, either broken off in the explosion or corroded away. The hinges were unrecognizable as such. The door had been made of stainless steel, but when Cole brushed his glove over the surface, he felt only the rough edges of small crustaceans. The door wouldn’t budge when he got his gloved hands on the corner and tried to tug at it. He pulled his dive knife from the sheath on his leg and tried to pry it open. No good. He checked his watch, then his air supply. It was time to start for the surface. He reached for the small pry bar he’d hooked inside his weight belt. He wedged the sharp prongs into the crack at the edge of the door. He tried to push on the lever, but nothing moved.