Amber (15 page)

The team stepped
off the path onto a small clearing that afforded a view of the lake, not far below them. Professor opened the journal again to the page with the map while shooting Bones a withering stare. “Nice going, man. Here we are back where we started, at the lake.”

Bones appeared indignant. “You’re the one who said,
Oh great, let’s go, no Russians to fight!
Besides,” he said, leaning over Professor’s shoulder to get a look at the map again, “I’ve been thinking about this map while we rappelled back down, and I’ve got an idea.”

Willis chuckled. “
Another
idea from you. Fantastic. Should we climb Mount Everest this time, because no one’s probably looked there, right? And the Russians won’t be there, so...”

Bones nodded his head in a
yeah, yeah, yeah
gesture before pointing to the map. “Seriously, it still looks to me like the spot isn’t actually
in
the water, but, knowing now that it’s not supposed to be a topo map, the X could be at the water’s edge—not far from the shore. Not only that, but I don’t think it’s even an X that’s marking the spot, but it’s a cross.” Bones stared at the map yet again.

“Nice of you to figure that out now, man, after we climbed a freakin’ mountain and back.” Willis grumbled. Leopov ran with it before Bones could retort.

“A cross?” Leopov stared at the journal map again also.

“A fancy one,” Bones clarified.

Professor shrugged, looking less than impressed. “Okay, so it’s an ornate cross instead of an X, so what?”

Leopov’s face brightened as she looked at Bones. “There is an old church ruin here on the lake, but it’s on the other shore,” she finished with a frown as she looked across the lake, where the Russian divers still went about their industrious activity on the barge floating in the lake. Bones was about to reply when they heard the rustling of leaves coming from off to their left, where a path wound around the lake.

Maddock immediately spun and knelt, looking for the source of the noise. Then they heard voices. Russian.

“They’re saying, ‘They’re right over there!’” Leopov translated.

“We’ve got to move.” Maddock stood and made for the path to their right side that led the other way around the lake, but no sooner had he come to an upright position than two Russian men with automatic weapons held in the ready position came into view walking fast their way on the path. Maddock wheeled back into the clearing, where he could tell by the movement of bushes on the other side that the group from the left was about to converge on them.

Taking in their surroundings, he saw that they were hemmed in by the cliff on one side and water on the other. The only way to get anywhere was by the paths now occupied by the Russians. Looking again at the rock walls behind them, Maddock knew that wasn’t a viable option. It would take far too long to ready their climbing gear and they could easily be picked off the wall once they were on it. But looking in the other direction, towards the lake, Maddock spotted a wooden pier. A rowboat with a pair of oars was tied up to it. A motorcycle was also parked on the pier, keys in the ignition.

Bones ran toward the boat and Professor started to call him back but stopped himself. He didn’t want to yell to further give away their exact position, so he turned to the group instead. “What’s he going to do, row us out of here? Even with a couple of us SEALs rowing, they’ll chase us down in one of the smaller boats in no time if they don’t shoot us down from shore first.” He cast a nervous glance into the foliage, where they could hear boots on the ground approaching.

“Maybe he’s going to take that old trail bike.” Willis pointed at the motorcycle.

“He can take himself and maybe one of us,” Leopov said. “I guess two of us making it out of here is better than none, though...”

Bones reached the bike, pushed up the kickstand and began wheeling it toward the end of the pier where the rowboat was docked.

“What is he doing?” Willis wondered aloud.

Bones looked up at them all and waved for them to join him at the boat. The Russians drew very close on either side of them. Maddock made for the pier. “He’s got something in mind and I don’t have any other ideas, so let’s go.” The group ran for the pier while Bones wrangled the motorcycle into the boat such that the rear wheel hung over the back into the water while the front wheel was in the boat, but up in the air. He then straddled the bike as if he were going to ride it, while turning around and yelling for the others to launch the boat.

The was no longer any reason for stealth since the first group of Russians broke out into the clearing from the path, looking for the treasure hunters who had been there only moments before. Maddock and the others dashed out onto the pier and jumped into the rowboat. Willis and Professor, being SEALs in a boat with oars, immediately cast off the line and began paddling. They didn’t know why, but Bones was trying to start the motorcycle. The engine turned over while he tried the key, coughing a couple of times before buzzing to life.

Maddock was too concerned about watching the Russians advance on shore to worry about Bones’ activity. He thought maybe he had brought it along just to use later on in case they might need it, and was testing it to see if it worked. But when Bones rocked back on the bike, causing the rear wheel to dip into the water while he revved the throttle, it all of a sudden made perfect sense.

Bones put the motorcycle into gear and the boat started to move. Really move, much faster than the combined rowing power of the two SEALs. “Motorcycle outboard!” Bones shouted, face alight with apparent glee despite the situation.

Willis was whooping with joy. “How’d you figure that out, man?”

“There’s a little MacGyver in all of us, Willis.” Bones revved the engine and the boat sped across the lake. Maddock stood next to Bones and pointed to the hive of activity in the center of the lake, the barge at its center. His meaning was clear: steer clear of it. Bones found that by leaning to one side or the other he could cause the boat to turn, but not sharply. Professor had the solution for this, however, when he stuck an oar in the water and held it in place. Being on the left side of the boat, this caused them to turn hard left. If they needed to turn right, then Willis would take the same action on his side of the craft.

Between the five people, their gear and the motorbike, the tiny vessel was beyond cramped. But it was getting them away from the Russians on shore, who fired at them to no avail. A couple of bursts streaked into the lake about fifty feet behind and to the right, and then they gave up in favor of tracking them from land, running around the path to try to follow the suddenly motorized rowboat’s course.

They steered wide right around the barge, but even so, Maddock expected and soon heard the high pitched whine of a small outboard motor as the Russians on the barge launched an inflatable boat in pursuit. “Full throttle, Bones, we need all she’s got to give!”

Bones nodded, hand rotating on the handlebar grip, coaxing the last few RPMs out of the bike’s motor. But as they skirted the barge and headed for the lake’s opposite shore, it became apparent that their makeshift motorboat was no match for the Russian’s outboard powered inflatable raft. They were gaining on them, and fast.

Maddock tapped Bones on the shoulder. “Won’t be long before we’re in firing range.”

Suddenly the motorbike sputtered and died. The small skiff lunged forward with the sudden drop in acceleration. Willis and Professor immediately took up the oars. Bones’ hands flew over the bike’s controls, and after a few heart-stopping moments the engine kicked over again and caught.

“Take cover! They’re firing on us!” Leopov knelt at the stern of the boat, facing their pursuers. She ducked so that her head was below the transom, just as a piece of wood splintered from the back of the boat. Bones reached behind him where a helmet was hung on the back seat. He swiped it up and crammed it on his head, armor since he couldn’t flatten himself on deck and still drive their impromptu outboard motor. Still, he dismounted the bike and crouched next to it, manipulating the throttle by reaching up with one hand.

Maddock pointed the way toward shore. “There’s some good cover there, lots of plants. Close enough to the other side. Land us there, Bones. We stay out on open water any longer and they’re going to smoke us.”

Willis dug his oar in the water and turned them toward the water’s edge. Bones kept up on the cycle while Maddock pointed to a spot on shore with a dense covering of vegetation only a few feet from the water.

“Grab your packs, get ready to jump and run as soon as we hit shore.” Maddock eyed Leopov as he said it, but she already had her pack on, as did Bones. The turn had thrown off the Russians somewhat, but now they closed in again, bullets strafing the lake surface as they chopped up the water in neat rows to the right of the skiff.

As soon as they felt the resistance of the boat’s hull on the lake bottom as it nosed up onto the beach, they leapt from the craft, Bones letting the motorcycle fall over as he abandoned ship, still wearing the helmet. Leopov ducked into the foliage first, followed by Maddock, Professor and Willis. Bones dared to take one last look at the Russians tailing them right before he ducked into the greenery, only to be greeted with a bullet smacking into a tree branch inches from his left arm.

Then he, too, turned and disappeared into the forested shoreline.

Maddock’s group moved
with a quiet speed through the lush lakeside growth. They still heard sporadic gunfire behind them, but the SEALs knew they were random potshots taken more out of frustration than because they had locked onto a target. When it was clear that even those shots were moving in the opposite direction, the team paused for a much-needed breather, hunkering down beneath a clump of wet ferns.

While they rested and shared water from a canteen, Bones asked Professor for the journal so that he could take a look at the map again. Professor produced it and together they estimated their current position based on landmarks they’d seen while out on the boat.

Bones was lost in concentration, staring alternately down at the map and up through the landscape. At length a mischievous grin took over his features and he announced, “Be right back.” He stepped off the path into the dense plant growth. Professor and the others were too absorbed either in the map or in keeping watch for the Russians to give his actions much thought.

For the next few minutes they compared their visual surroundings to the outline of the map, speculating on a definitive position for the treasure. They were still debating whether the Russian dive site could in fact be over the ‘X’ when they heard movement in the foliage and then Bones came crashing back onto the path. He was panting but grinning ear to ear. Maddock asked him if he was okay.

Bones caught his breath with his hands on his knees for a moment and then stood up. “I found it.”

Willis appeared skeptical. “Found what, your common sense? Because running around through the woods while a bunch automatic weapon toting treasure hunters are looking for us is pretty damned crazy, Bones.”

But Bones still grinned ear to ear. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” Bones moved silently through the underbrush. The others made a small amount of noise as they followed him, but nothing a human would detect from any distance away. He led them roughly parallel to shore, neither gaining nor losing altitude, until they reached an area with even thicker vegetation.

Bones showed them the tiny pathway he’d found through the wall of greenery and they threaded their way through, brushing aside cobwebs and small armies of buzzing insects. On the other side they found the remains of a stone building, surrounded by trees on all sides.

“What is it?” Willis asked.

Bones pointed to a crumbling cross on the front of the building. “It’s a church. C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Bones led them to the doorway of the old building, a simple, one-room affair but with a high ceiling now riddled with gaps. Maddock and Professor brought up the rear, heads on swivels as they monitored the area for threats. Inside the church, what was once a stone floor was now covered in dirt, with a profusion of plant life growing up through the cracks. Apparently Bones already knew where he was going, because he walked without hesitation straight back through the old house of worship to the rear, left wall.

“Check it out.”

The others gathered around and they stared down to where Bones was pointing, at a stone tile into which was carved an eagle.

Professor’s face lighted with recognition. “Looks like our old friend, the Prussian Eagle again.”

Maddock kept one ear tuned to their conversation and the other on the Russian party, clearly audible from here. They had stayed in pursuit and now seemed to be homing in on the old church. In fact, Maddock could now make out individual Russian words, although he couldn’t understand them. He watched Leopov out of the corner of his eye, also content to let the others carry on the conversation about Bones’ find, but if she was hearing anything of significance from the Russians, she was keeping it to herself.

Bones gestured to the engraved symbol. “It’s strange to see this eagle in a church, right?”

Professor agreed. “It’s not a symbol associated with any major religion or faith.”

“Not only that,” Bones continued, “but during World War Two, Austria was part of Germany, right?”

Again Professor nodded. “It was under German control, yes, which was reversed when the war ended. But during the time the Amber Room went missing, Austria was definitely under Hitler’s thumb.”

Bones looked at the tile. “So why do we have a
Prussian
Eagle in what was basically Germany at the time? They had their own eagle, and it doesn’t look anything like this one.”

Willis knelt next to the tile. “Enough yapping about it already. Let’s see if it does anything.” He tried pressing on the eagle, but nothing happened. Bones looked around to see if the action had set off any booby traps—heavy objects about to fall on them, spears shooting out of the crumbling walls, perhaps spikes jutting up from the ground—but all was still.

Then Willis attempted to turn the tile within its setting, but that too had no effect. “Screw this.” He stood and got purchase on the edge of the tile with his fingers before starting to pull.

“I think I feel a little movement but that sucker’s wedged in there good. We need a pry bar, anybody got something?”

Bones shrugged off his pack and dug around in it. He came up with a large fixed blade knife. “This’ll have to do.”

Willis raised an eyebrow at the blade and took it by the proffered handle. He applied it to the tile and this time they heard a low scraping sound as it moved against the surrounding stone. After a little more effort Willis was able to pry the tile loose. He set it aside to reveal an opening to a space below. A set of iron handholds led down into darkness. The team circled around the portal, Maddock producing his flashlight to aim down inside it.

Meanwhile, Leopov picked up the tile cap and examined it, turning it over, scrutinizing all facets of it including the bottom and sides. She tapped portions of it here and there, scraped various surfaces on it with a fingernail. She was turning it over one more time when she heard someone exclaim how deep the opening was and she turned to look, causing her to drop the stone tile. It landed on the floor and did not break but produced a loud, percussive sound that reverberated throughout the church.

Maddock instantly shushed everyone and listened. The Russian voices grew louder.

Maddock looked to Leopov. “What are they saying?”

“They heard the noise and they’re coming to investigate. I’m sorry.”

Willis glared at her briefly and looked like he was about to verbalize a not-so-nice sentiment, when Maddock pre-empted him. “Down we go, c’mon, before they get here!”

Bones dropped down the rungs first, followed by Willis and Professor. Leopov looked like she wanted Maddock to go next, but he would have none of it. He wouldn’t give her the chance to possibly communicate with the other Russians, if in fact she was associated with them. How much of a fight she would make about it might also be a clue.

“Ladies first,” Maddock insisted.

“It’s okay, you can go. I’m right behind you.”

Maddock picked up the tile cap. “This thing’s pretty heavy. Pulling it back into place to cover our tracks won’t be that easy. I’ll handle it. Now come on, go!”

Leopov pursed her lips and, for a fraction of a second, she looked like she was about to argue. But then she spun and put her legs on the rungs and began climbing down to the others. Maddock heard actual footfalls of the Russians now, boots crunching on soil, leaves rustling and branches snapping.

He started down the rungs, pausing to pull the tile in place over his head. It was difficult to fit it snugly into the floor from his perch beneath the opening, but after a couple of tries he got it to fall into position by letting it drop straight down from a few inches, which did make a noise but not very loud. He heard footsteps entering the church just as the tile settled into place.

He descended into the underground space.