The Sam Reilly Collection

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The Sam Reilly Collection Page 19

by Christopher Cartwright


  Reaching it, Sam looked down and was able to see there was another long Via Ferrata ladder which dropped for a distance of more than a thousand feet on the other side. He then turned his head and looked up.

  Absolutely nothing.

  There was no way he and Aliana would survive such a long, downward climb. Even if it took half an hour, their attackers would eventually discover their location. Then it would only be a matter of time before they finished what they’d tried so hard to achieve.

  In the vista below, rested an enormous lake. It was colored a stunning green and turquoise near its shoreline which turned an almost emerald darkness at its center. It was only then that Sam realized this was the same lake he and Tom had dived two days ago – Lake Solitude.

  It appeared even more beautiful in the distance, viewed from this height.

  On the other side of the tunnel, where they’d entered, he heard his pursuer speak in a thick German accent.

  “Sam Reilly. Stop. I’m on your side. They’re going to kill you!”

  It was a ruse, and neither Sam nor Aliana responded.

  “Blake Simmonds sent me here to tell you that if you get too close, they will never let you live!” The voice was clear, but the man’s breathing sounded labored. Sam had seen his leg, and knew he must be in agony.

  So, it was Blake Simmonds who betrayed me.

  Sam then heard the voice of another person, speaking in German, at the other end of the tunnel. It was relatively quiet, and despite the speaker’s use of a foreign language, Sam could tell that the person was speaking calmly.

  Aliana nudged his shoulder, and directed his attention to a spot that was located a few feet to the side of the tunnel’s entrance. There, Sam could just make out the slightest outline of another opening – this one running deeper inside the bowels of the mountain.

  He nodded his head in recognition of the fact that it might be their only chance to escape.

  *

  John Wolfgang was panting heavily by the time he made it to the ledge containing the entrance to the tunnel.

  He walked up to the other man, and said in German, “Where are they, Carl?”

  “Where are who?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Carl.”

  “Who's playing?” Carl asked.

  “Okay, suit yourself,” John said, as he pulled out his pistol, pointed it at Carl’s face, and at close range, pulled the trigger.

  A large hole instantly bloomed where Carl’s head once was, and he fell to the ground on the narrow ledge. He tried in vain to breathe for a couple of seconds before his brain finally caught up to the reality that he had been shot at point blank range with a powerful pistol.

  Well, at least one of those damned treasure hunters is now out of my way.

  From the other side of the tunnel entrance, he watched, relieved, as his own elite team was now quickly making their way into the tunnel.

  *

  Sam followed Aliana down into the little hole, before he heard another crack of gunfire. It was dark inside, but a small draft reassured him that the crevasse extended even further.

  They climbed down another fifteen to twenty feet, using their arms and legs to press against the rock walls and slow their descent.

  The hole dropped down much further than either of them expected.

  When they could no longer see the opening at the top of the crevasse, the two of them stopped their descent entirely.

  Above them, Sam could hear the two men shouting at each other in German. It was the first time he realized that there were several people after them.

  The yelling got even closer.

  Sam would have loved to know what they were saying, but he didn’t dare ask Aliana to translate for him, in fear of it giving away their hiding place.

  The shouting quieted somewhat, and now sounded more like a series of distinct questions, as if his pursuers had drawn closer together.

  Then he heard another sound, similar to that of a small rock falling, and it echoed down the same gap in the rock wall in which they were hiding.

  Aliana, whose native German ears understood every word that had been spoken, yelled, “Grenade!”

  They both released their pressure on the rock walls and slid downward in a complete free fall.

  Above them, they heard a large explosion, followed by the sound of limestone crashing.

  And still, they continued to fall.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The entire tunnel that John had been standing inside shook after his grenade exploded. He instinctively raised his arms above his head to protect himself from any falling debris. For an instant he actually wondered if the entire tunnel was going to cave in on him.

  He was wrong about that, but the thick dust that billowed out of the tunnel could easily be just as lethal. John ducked down and made his way to the tunnel’s closest exit. Then, with the calm experience of someone who’d spent many years climbing these mountains, he carefully climbed down half a dozen rungs of the Via Ferrata below.

  The air was fresh again – and it felt naturally crisp by comparison to the rock dust that he’d been breathing and from which he’d just escaped.

  It was over. Sam Reilly was dead.

  He’d just bought himself some more time.

  In his pocket, John’s cell phone began to vibrate silently. He slid his hand across its face to accept the call.

  Its caller ID read, “Blake Simmonds.”

  “Speak.”

  “What are you doing, John?” Blake asked, in the coarse voice of a man who’d smoked too much for far too long.

  “Never you mind, Blake. I’m trying to take care of something you were supposed to fix.”

  “And I will fix it. In fact, my guy is in the process of taking him out right now.”

  “I doubt that,” John replied, chuckling. “I doubt that very much indeed.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Well, for starters, your guy is dead, and so is Sam Reilly.”

  “Carl’s dead?” Blake’s voice sounded irritated. “He was loyal. It takes a long time to make a man really loyal, doesn’t it?”

  “So it does,” John agreed.

  Both men subscribed to a world where loyalties could easily be exchanged for more money, better opportunities, and self-satisfaction.

  “And Sam Reilly’s really dead?” Blake asked, seeking reassurance.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s something, at least.”

  “Now, what about the other thing? Are we close?”

  “We’re getting there, but it will still take some time,” John replied.

  “Don’t take too long. The buyers are getting impatient, and you know what that means, don’t you?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  *

  Blake Simmonds ended the call.

  He noticed an unopened text message from Carl.

  He opened it, and read, “For your information, boss, Sam Reilly is here with Aliana Wolfgang.”

  Blake Simmonds laughed aloud, in a way he hadn’t laughed since this whole affair began, all those years ago.

  The European backpacker that Sam Reilly had picked up was John’s own daughter?

  The implications of the statement were enormous.

  Could it be possible that John didn’t even realize his daughter was with them?

  Blake considered how this new piece of information might be useful to him, and then looked at the GPS on his cell phone. It displayed the location of his own team, and he wondered whether they would reach it in time.

  Could it be that John doesn’t even realize how close he is to stumbling upon it?

  He tapped the helicopter pilot on the shoulder, and said, “Take us back – there’s been a change of plans.”

  *

  Sam slid deeper into the large crevasse with Aliana.

  The crash of large rocks falling could be heard all around them. Sam had no idea where this drop would eventually take them, but the alternative was to be
killed by the landslide the explosion had caused above them.

  At the bottom of the crevasse, they skidded along a flat section of the rocky fissure as it leveled out. A split second later, several tons of rock came crashing down, completely blocking their exit.

  Sam flicked on the small headlamp, and then looked back at the mounds of rocky debris now strewn along the route they’d used when they had entered.

  “Well, we can’t go back the way we came,” Aliana said, pointing out the obvious. Even if she and Sam could possibly move the rocks, their pursuers would be waiting for them on the other side.

  “No, that’s for certain.”

  “So, then, now what do we do?”

  Sam turned his head to where the crevasse seemed to continue on into a natural tunnel.

  A strange green luminescence could be seen emanating from the other side. He looked at Aliana, who seemed to be equally fascinated by it.

  The strange glow so mesmerized Sam that he nearly forgot the fact that someone had just tried, for the third time this month, to kill him.

  The air in the tunnel was cool, yet it was warmer than the air outside.

  “We may as well follow it,” Sam suggested, and they started to walk in the only direction that was left available to them.

  The narrow tunnel led to a larger one, followed by a smaller one containing stagnant water. The number of glowworms scattered about on the limestone walls increased as they moved along, and formed the basis of a glow so strong that they were both able to turn off their headlamps.

  They clambered over a large rock, perhaps twelve feet high, and lying on its side. Once they reached its other side, Sam saw an image that was as surreal as it was beautiful, and that appeared to be completely out of place.

  Stagnant water filled the tunnel and a little wooden boat could be seen floating there; its leather painter still tied off on a rock, looking as though it was waiting for its owner who’d only left it there a few hours ago. It might have been floating there for a hundred years or more. The glowworms provided just enough light to enable them to see that the subterranean lake stretched ahead for quite a distance.

  “It looks pretty old,” Sam said, as he tested the buoyancy of the wooden boat by pushing down on it, and was pleased to note that the old boat seemed to maintain his weight easily enough.

  “I wonder how long it has been here?” Aliana said, as her beautiful blue eyes admired the enigmatic place. And then she added, “The limestone in this mountain has made it easy for many tunnels to form naturally. Armies, farmers and travelers alike have used such tunnels to cross the mountains fast, and in secret, as far back as the early 16th century, and perhaps, even earlier.”

  “This section of the tunnel must have collapsed many years ago near where we entered it, and this poor boat has remained stranded here, where this cold, dark environment does not permit even time to pass.”

  “But where did it go?” Aliana asked.

  “If someone took the trouble to leave a boat this high up and inside of this mountain, I can only guess that it goes somewhere, or at least, once did. I’d say, our chances of survival have just risen – at least a little.”

  Sam sat down in the middle of the boat and then gave Aliana a look that said, “Do you dare?”

  She climbed aboard and sat down in front of him, and he started to push the boat forward along the underground creek. The waterway continued on much further than he had expected. There were a number of wider sections, followed by a couple of very narrow sections, barely wide enough to allow the boat to pass through.

  A pair of ramshackle oars were lying inside the boat. A chain ran along the tunnel wall, and they were able to use it with relative ease to maneuver the small craft along the tunnel, leaving the oars untouched.

  After what seemed a considerable period of time, Sam checked his watch and was surprised to discover that they had been aboard the little boat for more than an hour.

  The air had changed.

  It had warmed significantly, and the draft he felt had increased.

  “This is really something, isn’t it?” Sam said.

  “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Aliana replied, the large dilated pupils of her blue eyes displaying a reflection of the glowworms as though they were tiny stars.

  It made Sam feel as if he were on the most magical date of his life, rather than fighting for a way to escape with his life intact, and from a woman whose loyalties were at best, uncertain.

  In the back of his mind, he struggled with one thought. How is she involved in all of this?

  As they continued to float their way through the tunnel, the ambient light seemed to intensify until the tunnel opened up into a gigantic underground cavern containing a lake. More than a million glowworms covered the walls and ceiling, illuminating the entire cavern, as though it were daylight inside.

  In the middle of the still water of the underground lake, he saw an enormous silver structure.

  Sam found himself holding his breath involuntarily, as though the mere sound of breathing, were enough to make the image disappear. In the middle of the shallow lake rested the serene remains of the Magdalena, in all her glory.

  It was as though she had floated inside the cavern, and then the water had receded, leaving her stuck. The passenger compartment of her gondola could still be seen, resting completely above the water.

  “My God,” Aliana said, staring wide-eyed at him in disbelief, “It’s the Magdalena!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Aliana’s words broke Sam’s trance in an instant.

  Turning to face her, his hands still holding hers, he said, “You know about the Magdalena?”

  “Yes, of course. It was a story my father used to tell me as a child. He’s spent a lot of time and millions of dollars searching for her over the years.”

  Sam desperately wanted to question her about how her father was involved, and more importantly, if she had been entangled in the attempt on his life. But his first priority was to find a way out of their current mess. He would have to focus on that first, and then return to the problem of her involvement.

  “Well, if she somehow found her way in here, we should be able to find our way out.”

  “Yes, but out where? I don’t see any other tunnels or crevasses,” Aliana pointed out. “Besides, she’s remained lost to the world for over 75 years! It’s easy to imagine that the passage she took to enter here may be long gone.”

  Sam had already considered that possibility, “The water level must have changed in the past 75 years. It’s the only explanation as to how she made it here in the first place.” Sam said, his gaze returning to the Magdalena once more. “Look at her. She’s aged a bit, but otherwise she’s completely intact. She must have crashed into the icy lake, and then somehow floated into here in the summer, when the ice had thawed. Since then, something must have changed to increase the water level, and block the passage that otherwise might have allowed her to float out of the cavern again.”

  “After all this time, she’s been so close to all of us?”

  “Yes, but it’s really not all that surprising that she wasn’t discovered. At this altitude, only a few people would go to all the trouble of diving, and even fewer would do so knowing that they’d have to carry all their equipment up 10,000 feet of rock.”

  “If that’s so, and the water level has increased since she crashed, why then is she resting high and dry on almost solid mud in here?” Aliana pointed to the sand-like silt upon which the Magdalena rested.

  “That’s a good question,” Sam said, as he looked around the enormous cavern for an answer.

  This is what I call real treasure hunting.

  And then saw it.

  A little subterranean creek, slowly feeding into the subterranean lake.

  “That’s why,” he said, pointing to it. “See how the creek is moving the limestone sediment into the lake here? It’s building up and, over time, is slowly making the lake shallower
.”

  “Hey, I think you’re right, Sam.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Sam checked his watch. “It’s already nearly one a.m. How about we check out what’s inside the gondola in the morning? As far as I'm concerned, we need to get some rest and call it a night. We can make a fresh start on finding our escape route tomorrow morning.”

  *

  Aliana slept poorly, as did Sam.

  “Are you awake?” she whispered.

  “Yes, can’t you sleep, either?”

  “No, I just can’t stop thinking about what we’re going to find when we search her.”

  “What time is it?” Sam asked, rolling over.

  “It’s four o’clock. Shall we start our day?”

  The time of day was irrelevant given their subterranean environment. They breakfasted on some dried fruit and nuts. It was a very basic meal, but it would provide them with enough nutrients to see them through.

  “Okay, now what?” Aliana asked.

  “You wait here while I see if it’s safe. I’m dying to have a look inside that gondola,” Sam replied. Then, looking sheepish, he said, “Actually, people have been trying to kill me to keep from looking inside that airship.”

  Sam hadn’t gone as far as saying that he knew she was involved in the last attempt on his life, but the tone of his words suggested that he was intentionally letting her know that he was on his guard.

  “Are you kidding me? No thanks!” Aliana hid her guilt with indignation. “If you’re going to check it out, I’m coming with you! After years of hearing about her disappearance, do you honestly think I’m going to let you explore her by yourself?”

  “Suit yourself,” Sam replied.

  They both climbed aboard the little boat and rowed out onto the lake toward the Magdalena.

  Aliana watched as Sam fought to pull open the gondola’s hatchway, which was pretty much stuck solid after all these years in this damp environment.

  Just like all men, Aliana observed, Sam doggedly attacked the first hatchway he could find, while she, on the other hand, noticed that she could climb onto the open-air gangway and then try to open the door from there, into the gondola. The open-air gangway was above the water level, along with its hatchway. If they were going to have any luck, that would be the most likely hatchway to use.

 

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