The captain hadn’t bothered posting a lookout because Darius had assured him all was clear. What Darius didn’t know, and even you didn’t know, Zac, was that I Intended to swim out and scout the ship from the water. You suspected nothing when Giordino and I volunteered to watch the ship from the beach. It was only, at the last minute, when I saw no sign of the Queen Artemisia’s crew, that I decided to sneak on board for a closer look. My apologies for not clearing my actions with you, but I was certain that you’d have raised hell and tried to stop me.”
“I'm the one who should offer apologies,” Zacynthus said. “I deserve the dunce award of the year. God, how could I have been so blind? I should have guessed something was wrong when Darius was never able to intercept any messages between the passing Minerva ships and the villa.”
“I could have relayed my suspicions to you on the road this morning.” Pitt said. “But it hardly seemed the right time or place particularly In front of Darius. Secondly, without one hundred percent proof I doubt seriously whether you or Zeno would have believed my accusation.”
“You were quite right,” Zacynthus admitted. "Tell me this. Where did you find out about the Queen Jocasta?"
“The Air Force has a funny habit about loaning out their vehicles; sooner or later they want them back. After Giordino and I left you, we stopped off at Brady Field and returned the truck to the motorpool. Colonel Lewis was waiting for us. It was he who alerted me to the Queen Jocasta. One of his morning patrols sighted her cruising north toward Thasos. The next step was to check the ship’s cargo and destination with the Minerva Line’s agent in Athens. His reply added to an interesting coincidence. Not only were two Minerva ships passing by the villa Within twelve hours of each other, but both were headed for ports in the United States. I began to get the picture—von Till, or rather Heibert, Intended to switch the sub and the heroin from the Queen Artemisia to the Queen Jocajta.”
“You might have let me in on your secret,” Zacynthus said with a noticeable trace of bitterness. “I came within a hair of locking Giordino up when he bounded into my headquarters, demanding that I, together with Colonel Zeno’s men, follow him into the labyrinth.”
Pitt studied him. The inspector’s face was grim. “I considered it,” Pitt said honestly. “But I figured the less everyone concerned knew, the less chance there was for Darius to get suspicious. I also purposely kept the girl in the dark because it was essential that her message, warning your headquarters of my plans to search for the cavern, reek with serious intentions when Darius intercepted it. My actions were devious, I admit, but my reasons were valid.”
“To think that the Bureau’s finest investigator was shown up by a rank amateur.” Then Zacynthus grinned and there was a warm hint in the smile that removed the acid from his words. “But It was worth it, well worth it.”
Pitt was greatly relieved. He didn’t wish to make an enemy of Zacynthus. He turned and looked at von Till. The old German stared back at Pitt with a contempt in his eyes that went far beyond mere hate. The only feeling that suddenly welled within Pitt was one of disgust. He spoke quietly, but his cold voice carried to every inch of the cavern.
“You would have to die a hundred thousand deaths, and then some, to repay all the lives you stole, old man. Most men are born and go to the grave without killing anyone, but your list stretches endlessly from the helpless prisoners you condemned to the cold waters of the North Sea to the schoolgirls you sold into slavery in the scum-infested back alleys of Casablanca. How ironic that a man who caused so many other people to die in agony should die horribly also. My only regret is that I won’t be there to see your neck stretched, Heibert; see your withered old body jerk and bounce when it hits the end of the rope. They say the shock forces the bladder and the bowels to move. That’s a fitting end for you, old man. Thrown in an unmarked pauper’s grave to rot through eternity in your own filth.
Muttering incoherent words, his face distorted In blind anger. and entirely oblivious to the surrounding guns of the gendarmerie, von Till hurled himself at Pitt. It was the mad gesture of a hysterical man. Giordino’s forty-five clubbed him on the back of the neck before he took the second step. He fell awkwardly to the deck in a crumpled heap and lay as if dead. Giordino didn’t even look down as he holstered the gun.
“You cracked him a bit hard,” Zacynthus said reprovingly.
“Vermin don’t die easily,” Giordino replied impassively, “especially when they’re as mean as that old bastard.”
Darius had not moved or spoken since Giordino shot him. Any other man would have gripped a wounded and bleeding hand; not Darius. The huge brute let his hand hang limply to one side, indifferently allowing the blood to splatter on the sub’s deck. The lost expression on his face reminded Pitt of a newly caged gorilla he had once seen in the San Diego Zoo, an ugly misshapen monster who could not grasp the meaning of the barred walls and the strange looking animals beyond that stood five deep, observing his every movement. Pitt was very happy indeed that at least five of Zeno’s gendarmerie had their guns trained between Darius’ cold black eyes.
Pitt nodded toward Darius. “What happens to him?”
“A fast trial,” Zacynthus answered. “Then the firing squad—”
“There will be no trial,” Zeno interrupted. “The gendarmerie have never admitted to a traitor in their ranks.” His voice was grave, yet his eyes were filled with sadness. “Captain Darius died in the performance of his duties.”
The cavern suddenly became silent Pitt, Zacynthus and Giordino all exchanged puzzled glances over Zeno’s use of the past tense.
Darius said nothing. He displayed no emotion, no sign of fear, only a resignation to a fate that precluded even the remotest possibility of hope. Slowly, very carefully. like a man who hadn’t tasted sleep in days. he climbed from the sub onto the dock and stood before Zeno, his head bowed.
“It seems I have known you for many years, Darius,” Zeno sounded very tired. “Yet I haven’t really known you at all. God alone knows why you came to be what you are. It is a pity. the gendarmerie lost a good man. . .“ Zeno hesitated, groping for words, but he could think of nothing else to say. Carefully, almost to the point of meticulousness, he withdrew the cartridge clip from his gun and removed all the shells except one. Then he reinserted the clip and held out the gun, butt first, to Darius.
Nodding, as if in secret understanding, and searching Zeno’s eyes for a sign that never came, Darius took the gun, turned slowly towards the tunnel, and began walking numbly across the dock.
“No goodbye, no regrets, no to hell with you,” Giordino said “uncomprehendingly. “Just like that, he wanders off and blows his brains out. Ten will get you one that Darius makes a break for it.”
“His life ended when he became a traitor,” Zeno said quietly. “Darius knew it then—he knows it now.
An early death was his fate when he dropped from the womb, there was no escaping it. Five minutes to talk with his God and prepare his soul—then he will squeeze the trigger.”
Giordino watched Darius fade into the blackness of the tunnel and said nothing. The finality of Zeno’s words shattered all his doubts over Darius’ intentions. Until the day he. himself, died, Giordino would never understand how anyone could let loose of life so unquestioningly.
He turned back to Pitt. “Time’s a wasting, we’re running out of the money. Gunn is probably having a spastic fit wondering what happened to his precious scientists.”
“Can’t say as I blame him.” The voice came from Knight. who was climbing out of the deck hatch, a sly smile across his face. “Great intellect is hard to come by these days.”
“An egghead comedian,” Giordino groaned. “What has science come to?”
In spite of the pain in his leg, Pitt couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe some of Knight’s Intellect will rub off on you when you escort him and the other eggheads back to the First Attempt. I’m holding you responsible until they’re safely on board.”
“Talk ab
out appreciation,” Giordino groaned again. “After all I’ve done for you.”
“It’s better to give, than to receive,” Pitt said soothingly. “Now hop to it. If you expect to swim out through the submerged tunnels, you and the others will have to retrieve the diving gear from the bottom.”
Woodson crawled from the hatch and walked over to Pitt. “Maybe I better stick with you, Major, until you’re bedded down.”
“No thanks.” Pitt answered, mildly surprised at the look of genuine concern on Woodson’s otherwise expressionless face. “I’m OK. Zac here is going to take me to a hospital full of nymphomaniac nurses, right Zac?”
“Sorry,” Zacynthus smiled. “Not unless the Air Force has changed its enlistment policy. I’m afraid the base hospital at Brady Field has the only decent facilities on the island for plugging bullet holes.”
The litter-bearers arrived and immediately eased Pitt onto the stretcher. “Oh well,” he said, “at least I travel first class.” Then he sat up. "Damn! I almost forgot. One last thing. Where’s Spencer?”
“Here, Major. right here,” The red-bearded marine biologist stepped from behind Woodson. “What can I do for you?”
“Relay my compliments to Commander Gunn and give him a present for me.”
Spencer paled visibly at the sight of Pitt’s bloody leg. “Consider it done.”
Pitt leaned over the side of the stretcher and rested on one elbow. “In the outer cavern, twenty feet down, there are several small fissures along the base of the north wall. One has a flat rock over the entrance. If he hasn’t already muscled his way out, you’ll find a Teaser inside.”
Spencer’s face registered total surprise. “A Teaser!
Are you serious, Major?”
“I ought to know a Tearer when I see one,” Pitt replied jokingly. “See to it that you don’t drop him.”
Spencer let out a long whistle. “Well what do you know. I was beginning to think no such creature existed.” He paused a moment. deep in thought. “Christ, I don’t dare damage him with a spear shaft. A net bag, if only I’d carried a net bag.”
“There’s only one way to catch a Teaser,” Pitt grinned. “Grab him by the fin.”
The pain was going away now. Pitt’s leg felt like it was no longer part of him. The floodlights fused together in one massive blur, hurting his eyes. Everything seemed to slow down. and the voices became far away. Then the stretcher bearers picked Pitt up from the dock, moving. it seemed to him, as though they were wading through glue. He raised his head for the last time that day.
“Zac. one more request.” Pitt’s voice was down to a bare murmur. “What is the girl’s real name?”
Zac looked down at Pitt and smiled with his eyes. “Her name is Amy.”
“Amy.” Pitt repeated. “Never knew a girl by the name of Amy before.” He relaxed and fell back against the stretcher. closing his eyes. The last thing he remembered before the soothing blanket of darkness fully covered him was the sound of a single shot, echoing from somewhere within the depths of the labyrinth.
TALLY
The sky was a brilliant ceiling of blue as far as the eye could see. The summer air was hot and dripping with unseen humidity encouraged by burning waves from the blazing sun. In blinding radiance, tall white buildings stood like small chiseled mountains and reflected the heat onto the black asphalt pavement below; the traffic was heavy, and the sidewalks were crowded with scurrying office workers on lunch break as Pitt pushed aside the wide glass doors and limped stiffly into the air conditioned lobby of the Bureau of Narcotics building.
For a bachelor, he thought, one of the wonderful things about Washington, D.C. is the overabundance of girls. They come in every size, age, and disposition and swarm like chattering locusts throughout every government office in the city, providing the hungry male with all the advantages of a rich kid running amok in a candy store. Pitt selected his most charming. devil-may-care smile and offered it to a trio of giggling secretaries who exited the elevator. They returned his smile, accompanied with the usual combination of cursory and demure glances that women are prone to allow for strange men, and then wiggled past him into the lobby, sneaking an additional peek at him over their shoulders.
A moment later, playing the role of the wounded Warrior to perfection, Pitt leaned heavily on his cane and limped from the elevator onto the thick carpet of the eighth floor. In the center of the anteroom a dozen girls, displaying an unrestricted forest of nyloned legs, sat at a dozen desks and furiously assaulted a dozen typewriters, never once hesitating to look up at him. He moved slowly over to a well-bosomed blond whose desk top contained a small rectangular sign: “Information.” Then for a moment he stared down at her, admiring the view.
“Excuse me.”
She didn’t hear him over the din of the clacking machines.
“Excuse me,” Pitt repeated loudly.
She turned and noticed him. “May I help you?” The voice was cool, the big hazel eyes unfriendly. Pitt admitted to himself that he had to go along with her icy greeting. The white turtleneck sweater, the green California sport coat, the handkerchief casually fluffed from the breast pocket hardly categorized him as an executive or important Washington bureaucrat.
“I would like to see the Director of the Bureau.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning back to her typewriter. “The Director is extremely busy and cannot see anyone.”
Contempt and anger began to mount in Pitt. “Inspector Zacynthus made an appointment for me—”
“Inspector Zacynthus’ office is on the fourth floor,” the girl droned mechanically.
A gunshot couldn’t have received more attention than the resounding bang from Pitt’s cane as he slammed it on top of the receptionist’s desk. The typists’
eyes burst wide, and their hands froze above keyboards, sending the anteroom into a sudden dead silence. Her face drained of all color, the large-cheated blond stared up at Pitt. a fear mushrooming inside her.
“OK, dearheart.” Pitt said menacingly. “You get up off your well-rounded little bottom and you go and inform the Director that Major Dirk Pitt is waiting to keep the appointment set by Inspector Zacynthus.”
“Pitt. . . Major Pitt from NUMA,” the blond gasped. “Oh I’m sorry, sir. But I thought—”
“Yes, I know,” Pitt offered. “I’m out of uniform.”
The blond jumped from her desk, snagging a stocking in her haste. “Right this way, Major. They’re expecting you.”
Pitt grinned at her, grinned at the other girls sitting awed in their chairs, felt self-satisfied at the admiring expressions from all twenty-four eyes, the bovine, adoring gaze reserved for celebrities and movie stars. It inflated his male ego.
“Keep typing girls,” he said good-naturedly.
“Mustn’t keep the Bureau waiting for all those letters and reports.”
The blond led him down a long hallway, slowing her pace every so often to allow him to catch up. She halted and rapped on a walnut stained door. “Major Pitt,” she announced, and then stood aside to let him pass through.
Three men rose as he walked into the room. The fourth, Giordino, remained comfortably anchored to a long leather couch.
“I thought I'd never see the day,” he said. “Dirk Pitt hobbling around on a cane.”
“Just practicing for my senile years,” Pitt retorted.
A short, red-haired man with a zeppelin-shaped cigar stashed jauntily between his lips came over and shook Pitt’s, hand. “Welcome back, Dirk. Congratulations on a great job in the Aegean.”
Pitt stared into the griffin-featured face of Admiral James Sandecker, the crusty chief of the National Underwater Marine Agency.”
“Thank you, Admiral. Any word on the Teaser yet?”
“Only that it’s alive and still swimming,” Sandecker answered. “Since Gunn had it flown over last week in a special tank, I haven’t been able to get near the goddamn thing—a horde of scientists have been crowded around it, ogling their damn
eyes right out of their sockets. They promised me a preliminary report by morning.”
Zacynthus came across to greet Pitt. He seemed younger, much more relaxed than when. Pitt had last seen him, three weeks previously.
“Good to see you walking again,” Zacynthus said smiling. “You look as mean and nasty as ever.”
He took Pitt by the arm and led him over to a tall man standing by the window and introduced them. Pitt studied the Director of the Bureau and was studied in return by hard gray eyes that peered intently from a high-checked. pockmarked face; it was a face straight out of a police lineup. Pitt amusingly reflected that the Director looked more like a narcotics smuggler than the chief administrator of several thousand federal investigators. The Director spoke first.
“I've looked forward to meeting you, Major Pitt The Bureau is deeply grateful for your assistance.” The voice was low and very precise.
“I didn’t do much. Inspector Zacynthus and Colonel Zeno carried most of the load.”
The Director met his eyes evenly. “That may be, but you carry the scars.” He motioned Pitt to a chair and offered him a cigarette. “Did you have a good flight from Greece?”
Pitt lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Air Force cargo planes aren’t exactly famous for their cuisine and royal coachman service, but I must admit that it was considerably more relaxing than the flight in.”
Admiral Sandecker gave Pitt a puzzled look. “Why the Air Force? You could have flown from Athens on Pan Am or TWA.”
“Souvenirs,” Pitt laughed. “One of my mementos of Thasos was too bulky to fit in the luggage compartment of a commercial airliner. Colonel Lewis came to my rescue and helped me hitch a ride on a half-empty Air Force cargo plane that was headed stateside.”
The Mediterranean Caper by Clive Cussler Page 24
