Amber (4 page)

Shipwreck Wilhelm Gustloff

A rubble field.
That’s all it looked like at first. Maddock shook his head as he took it in. At least the visibility had improved in the deeper water where the wreck lay. But that also allowed him to see how discouraging the view was. Even with their underwater vehicles, there was still a daunting amount of ground to cover. The former hospital ship had been over 700 feet long and eighty wide. Its immensity combined with decades of wave and current action in the stormy Baltic meant that there was now a vast debris field to comb over in addition to the bulk of the ship’s remains.

“I think I see something.” Professor’s voice cut through Maddock’s intimidating thoughts.

“What have you got?” Maddock strained to see through the gloom.

“A...light?”

“It does look like a light on a stick,” Bones added, pointing down at the bottom near the edge of the debris field.

Jimenez commented as he eased the SDV toward the seabed. “Could be that the Russians are putting markers down as they search.”

“I see another one over there.” Professor pointed to the edge of their visibility in front of them, where another pinpoint glow of light beckoned. “They could be transecting line markers, to delineate a measured search area so that they know for sure where they’ve already looked.”

“Maybe we should start looking somewhere else, then.” Bones crouched on the side-runner platform of the SDV, ready to jump off at any time.

Professor’s response was prefaced with a hissing inhalation through his scuba regulator. “Its common practice to lay out the transect lines first and then start searching, keeping track of which quadrants have been searched as you go.”

Maddock unclipped a waterproof camera from his weight belt and snapped a few pictures as they “flew” over the edge of the wreck, the lighted transect poles highlights of the frame. The shots would become intel passed on to Admiral Liptow. Maddock knew that the chances of recovering the amber from the Amber Room after so much time were next to impossible, unless it were somehow sealed within a watertight container. Amber required a dry environment to survive for so many decades. But he also knew the fact that the Russians had such a presence on the
Wilhelm
would in itself be of interest to Liptow and those he served, especially the details of that presence.

And what else could the wreck offer? Maddock continued to survey the rubble-strewn plain, which became denser as it neared what was left of the ship itself. Most of the massive vessel had long since been crushed flat or simply disintegrated, but there were sections that remained somewhat intact.

“Let’s look for structurally unbroken sections where we can swim inside” Maddock flipped on his dive light at the same time as Jiminez activated their SDV’s front-mounted halogen beam.

“If we’re lucky they started with the debris field because it’s easier than the penetration diving.” In the SDV ahead of Maddock’s, Professor swept the beam of his own light on a jumble of twisted metal.

“It’s crazy, but there are still ropes intact from the original ship.” Jiminez banked their craft to the right as he swooped in low over the
Wilhelm
Gustloff.
As Maddock studied part of the deck of the sunken ship, he saw that the navy diver was correct. Twisted jags of rusted metal were intertwined with manila lines, some of which seemed to dance in the currents.

Bones pointed out masses of monofilament fishing nets that obstructed much of this part of the wreck.

“Very common to see that stuff on many of the wrecks in the Baltic,” Yu pointed out as he ascended in his SDV to follow the contour of the ship. “Diving hazard for sure.”

Maddock’s gaze roved over what was left of the open deck of the once glorious German cruise ship. He couldn’t help but imagine the terror of that fateful night during World War II when three torpedoes from a Russian sub slammed into the hull, the ship canting hard to port. Maddock had read a recounting of the sinking from one of the 1,200 survivors in his briefing materials, and although he tried to stop himself, he couldn’t help but envision the events of that long ago night now that he was staring at the real thing...

He could hear the alarms and sirens, the ship’s crew calling for order as the panicking passengers stampeded on their way up to the decks. Bottleneck points like stairwells and ladders became deathtraps as the terrified masses became increasingly desperate. Guns are brought out and used, some by crew to try and keep control, others by passengers who would rather control their own fate and that of their families. For those who do reach the deck, the steep angle combined with the layers of ice spell the end for many as they slide fast and far into the freezing sea. There are lifeboats but many of them are frozen in place on their supports; bloodied hands attempt to knock them loose in time. Of the few boats that are managed to be launched successfully, some are hit once in the water, laden with survivors, by heavy equipment falling from the ship, which slips beneath the waves, lights on and sirens still blaring as it drops from sight...

This was war at its worst.

“I see an opening!” Willis jolted Maddock from his haunting reverie. Maddock saw him pointing from the SDV ahead of his off to their left, where an intact structure of some sort rose from the chaotic ruins of the once expansive deck. A jagged, yawning aperture led into a dark space.

Maddock spoke into his transmitter. “Bones and I will enter first. Professor: you and Willis follow us inside after about a minute once we’re sure there’s somewhere to go. Raul and Alex: patrol the area in the SDVs and give us a holler if you see anything strange.”

Acknowledgments were given and then Maddock and Bones pushed away from the SDV and swam to the opening in the wreck. Maddock shined his beam into the cave-like space. Immediately it became apparent that, although cramped, a labyrinth of passageways and rooms awaited their discovery.

Twisted steel beams and unidentifiable parts of structures splayed out in all directions as Maddock and Bones played their lights around the claustrophobic area. Maddock decided not to get sidetracked by exploring the adjoining rooms that were closest to the entrance, figuring those were probably the first to have been looted. Instead, he led the way straight back down the narrow passageway, now tilted at slight angle to the left. Bones finned his way along just behind him, while Professor and Willis announced over the comm units that they had just entered the wreck.

“Who turned out the lights?” Willis commented on the relative darkness inside the wreck. Without their dive lights it would be nearly pitch black. Occasionally they would swim past a pitted section of rusting hull and see one of the transect pole lights winking at them, but other than that it was dark all around. Then Maddock came to a stairwell that unbelievably led into an even darker, more foreboding passage. He followed it down without hesitation.

Bones was large enough that he had to carefully position himself to fit into the narrow corridor, and Willis and Professor caught up to him at the entrance.

“Gonna fit, big man?” Willis asked.

“I’ll make it. Your butt might be too big.” Bones made it through and kicked off into the gloomy shadows after Dane, who cut off Willis’ retort with his transmission.

“Branches off down here. Hallways right and left. Bones, you follow me to the right, Willis and Professor, you’ve got left.”

The two teams went their separate ways into the eerie ship. The passageway was encrusted with marine growth, and a few small fish flitted about. Maddock reached an open room after about ten fin strokes and he and Bones entered it one at a time. About ten by ten, it featured a piece of equipment that looked like a stovepipe leading from a box up through the ceiling. Maddock checked it out but it didn’t seem to hold anything of interest. Bones, meanwhile, directed his light beam around the space, probing here and there but also finding nothing noteworthy.

Maddock was about to suggest they exit the room and continue down the hall to the right when they heard Professor’s voice over the comm channel.

“See something shiny back in a tight space. I can reach it but I’ll have to take my tank off.”

“Careful, Prof.” But Willis didn’t sound all that concerned. Maddock couldn’t see what they were doing, but removing a scuba tank while underwater to access a tight space wasn’t unheard of or even an especially dangerous thing to do, as long as one stayed within arm’s reach of the abandoned tank.

Professor’s voice came as labored though audible grunts. “Lemme...just...grab this...”

A few seconds of silence elapsed. As Maddock was about to ask Prof and Willis what was happening, the wreck shook around them.

Clouds of silt
rained down on Maddock and Bones in the room. They heard heavy noises around them, like the metal of the ship shifting. Those were drowned out by Willis’ voice going uncharacteristically high-pitched. “Professor...Prof, talk to me!”

Maddock signaled for Bones to follow him and swam out of the room into the hallway, which now had a rupture in the ceiling where hazy light filtered through from above. They kicked fast back in the direction they had come, toward the room Willis and Professor now occupied.

En route, Maddock asked Willis what was happening a couple of times but received only terse replies of, “Hold on,” or “Working on it!” Bones and Maddock rushed more quickly than they knew was safe to reach the room as rapidly as possible. They saw a dive light stabbing the darkness in seemingly random directions and pulled themselves by the door frame into the space.

Willis was lying on the floor of the room in a far corner, reaching his hands into a low crevice of a space while his light bounced around randomly on a tether attached to his wrist. A second set of scuba gear—not the one Willis wore on his back—lay on the floor at the edge of the opening.

“Talk to me, Willis!” Maddock and Bones swam across the mostly bare room to where Willis lay.

“Prof tried but couldn’t fit through here with is tank on, so he took off his tank to fit back there to where he said it opens up into a larger space. Took a big breath and—“

“How long has he been in there?” Maddock slid alongside Willis and directed his light beam into the crevice. Bones went to Willis’ other side and did the same.

Willis eyeballed his dive watch. “Forty-five seconds.”

“I don’t see him back there.” Bones swept his light toward the back of the crevice, where it sloped up toward some natural light.

“I’m going in. Willis: stay here. Bones: swim around to the other side and see if you can access the space from where that light comes in.”

“Dane, are you sure...” Willis began, but Maddock had already shrugged off his tank. He ripped off his mask and shimmied beneath the overhanging metal, as Professor had done before him. Carrying his dive light in one hand, he kicked into the narrow area, now without a mask on, since the full face masks with integrated comm were connected directly to the scuba tank. The only way to take off the tank was to take off the mask, too. In light of this fact, Maddock knew that Willis must have seen something that he deemed very promising in order to go through all of that potentially dangerous trouble.

Yet when the three of them had looked into the area with their lights, nothing obvious was there. But Professor had surely seen something, but now he wasn’t even in here anymore...Maddock interrupted his own thoughts as he reached what he had thought was the rear of the cramped confines. Because light streamed in from above and a wall was only a couple of feet in front of him, he had thought that the chamber ended here. But even with his blurry vision, he could see this was not the case.

He could even feel the floor drop out from under him as he reached the far wall, the skin on his face and neck reacting to the sudden decrease in temperature. Looking down, he saw a precipitous slope drop away until it passed beneath the wall of the room. Tilting his head upward to see the source of the light, he could tell that two crumpled pieces of metal met, leaving an irregular sliver through which light passed. He wasn’t sure if it was wide enough for a human to pass through. He looked around the room one more time to be sure he wasn’t missing Professor, and when he didn’t see him Maddock dove down into the new passage, if that’s what it was. For all he knew it could dead-end a few feet down. Which could be a good thing.

In that case, Professor should be here. If he’s not...
Maddock shoved the grim thought from his mind and pushed his way deeper, keeping his light out in front of him so that he would hit that instead of his head if something came up suddenly. It occurred to him as he swam down that the explosion they’d heard could have opened up this gap in the flooring—that maybe Professor hadn’t meant to come down here but had the floor drop out from beneath him.

The first pang of oxygen starvation hit Maddock’s lungs. He had to find Professor and get back to their tanks, fast. And in the back of his mind, even through the predicament he now found himself in, he couldn’t help but wonder: what had caused that blast? It must be the Russians, but how? Depth charges? Mines? Semtex? Did they not care what damage they did to the wreck? Had they already recovered something of value from it relating to the Amber Room and so now had no qualms about destroying it? And did they know there were uninvited divers on the wreck, or did they just happen to be doing underwater demolitions at this very moment? Maddock doubted the latter as he swept his beam to his right.

Motion. Light. Far corner.

Maddock changed course abruptly, making a beeline for what could only be Professor. He opened his eyes even wider against the saltwater as he neared the hectic, wavy illumination. He passed over some inert objects...forms...on the bottom of the basement-like space. Maddock couldn’t be positive with his blurred vision but they looked at lot like skeletons. He hurried past without touching them. A couple of more scissor kicks and Maddock clamped a hand on the arm waving the light, temporarily blinded when it pointed right at him. He couldn’t see Professor’s face in any detail without a mask, but he knew it was him from the way he grunted, “Help.”

Maddock knew his associate must be trapped somehow or he would have been long gone back to his tank. He got right to work searching for whatever it was that was holding Professor back. His upper body was visibly free and he was able to shine the light around, so Maddock concentrated on his legs. This task was made more difficult by not being able to see clearly, but by running a hand down Professor’s drysuited leg until he encountered metal before reaching the foot, he knew he had found the problem.

With mere seconds left to solve it.

The explosion had somehow jarred two pieces metal around both of Professor’s legs at the ankles, trapping him in place. Maddock removed his dive knife from the sheath on his calf and used it like a pry bar to separate the metal sheets—flooring and wall—that pinned the SEAL’s legs. He felt the metal give way but then the knife slipped and he heard Professor groan in pain. He was trying not to move but lack of oxygen was making him nervous and cagey; he fidgeted while Maddock tried again with the knife.

He pushed the two sheets of metal apart a little more and then wrenched his colleague’s leg free, slicing through the drysuit and eliciting a bubbly scream as the thin skin covering the ankle was split open. Professor had just expelled some of what little oxygen remained in his lungs. Maddock knew he had to work extra fast now. His own lungs were starting to burn, too, and even once Professor was out, they still faced a long swim through the wreck back to the scuba tanks.

Maddock gripped Professor’s remaining trapped ankle with two hands and slid it across the opening he had created with the pry bar, which became wider toward the right. It was faster than prying again, but the speed came at a price as Professor’s other ankle was shredded in similar fashion to the first. His shriek was less this time, though, having learned not to expel any more precious air.

Maddock bear-hugged Professor and pushed off the bottom. The two SEALs ascended out of the narrow, deep space they were in, toward the floor of the crevice that led back to the tanks. But as they rose, another explosion rocked the wreck. Suddenly the passage that led back to Bones, Willis and the tanks was sealed shut in front of them. Where to turn?

Maddock made the split second decision to shoot for the light that streamed in from above. He still had no idea if the opening up there would be wide enough for them to fit through. It could be just an inches-wide seam letting in the sunlight for all he knew. But he had unfortunately gotten into one of those situations where he had run out of options. Swim for that light, hope he could get through to escape the wreck....
and then what?
He couldn’t let himself think any further ahead than that. To do so would be to invite panic in to sit down and hang out. One step at a time. Stay focused.

Professor’s movements were becoming more and more frenzied, verging on lack of control, but still he swam upward. Maddock noticed he was only using one arm to stroke, and figured his other must have been injured while attempt to free himself. As they ascended within the confines of the wreck, Maddock could tell they were almost to the top of the structure.

His fear ballooned as they made the last few feet to the opening—would it be wide enough? Because if not...he was pretty sure the U.S. Navy would be out two SEALs.

Maddock reached out for the jagged line of light and hooked his right hand over the lip and pulled himself up. Ironically he was able to fit through only because he wasn’t wearing a tank. He shimmied through, disregarding the scraping of rusted metal on his drysuit, gazing longingly at the hazy white light above. But he had to make sure Professor was still on track. He looked back down and was relieved to see his friend’s blurry arm protruding out of the rip in the wreck.

C’mon Professor!

Maddock reached down and gripped his fellow SEAL’s arm and began pulling him up, hoping that the contact would spur him to action, give him hope, remind him that he wasn’t the only one going through this ordeal. Maddock pulled harder and Professor slipped through the uneven seam, his head upturned toward the light.

Maddock turned his attention to their next course of action. His lungs burned badly and he estimated that nearly two minutes had elapsed since he’d last taken a breath, probably three for Professor. The surface seemed impossibly far away, 110 feet above. They would risk the bends ascending directly to it, also, although when you needed to breathe that was the least of your worries. And then a bright, stabbing beam of light caught Maddock’s attention.

He tapped Professor’s shoulder and pointed off to the left, where one of the SDV’s swooped in toward them. Maddock rejoiced at the sight of the vehicle, for it represented real hope. Not because the pilot might transport them to the surface faster, because even that might not be quick enough, but because of what the craft carried on board: air. In the form of two scuba cylinders in compartments used for buoyancy control. The SDV carried an air bladder on each side that could be inflated with compressed air from the tanks in the event that the motor died and the craft needed to ascend. As Maddock yanked on Professor’s arm and kicked toward the SDV, he had a plan. Admittedly, not a good one, but it was all they had.

The tanks. They held breathable air, but there was one major problem. Maddock thought about it as he and Professor neared the oncoming SDV, lungs searing, strange spots forming at the corners of his vision. He knew where to locate the scuba tanks in the SDV, could already visualize opening the door to the compartment that housed them, as he had done during SEAL training more times than he cared to remember. That wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that the tanks were connected to a special valve designed for the vehicle buoyancy system, not to a scuba breathing regulator with a mouthpiece. They would have to be disconnected from that system and then...

Maddock’s thoughts were obliterated by the SDV’s headlight swinging around in his direction and the pilot sounding some kind of horn-like sound device. He could only imagine the pilot’s—he couldn’t see whether it was Yu or Jiminez—horror at seeing the two divers swimming around a hundred feet down without an air supply. On par with seeing something out of a dream, surreal, nightmarish.

Then his hands were clawing at the side of the vehicle, seeking the handholds he knew were there but could not see. He found purchase with first a hand, then a foot, and pulled himself up. He glanced back just once to make certain Professor was still there—he was—and then bent to the task of accessing a scuba tank.

He had no trouble locating the hatch for the buoyancy control compartment. Unlatched it and flipped it open. Felt by rote for the aluminum cylinder he knew would be inside. Found it! He wanted the air it contained so badly that it hurt, but he still had work to do. His hands raced along the tank up to the neck until they clamped onto the valve assembly. With practiced ease now edged with panic, Maddock unscrewed the yoke from the tank valve. He pulled the scuba cylinder free and cracked the valve, releasing air into the water with a bubbly hiss. He knew that the familiar sound would get the point across to Professor as to what they had to do. This was as good as it was going to get; breathing directly from a tank valve. It was possible to do if the amount of flow was not too little nor too high.

Maddock took one pull off the tank and handed it off to the desperate Professor, who hugged it with one hand as he drank in the air. Maddock, meanwhile, lungs still craving so much air despite the single breath, hopped over to the other side of the SDV and opened the compartment there, repeating the process. He felt the SDV begin moving as he disconnected the tank. A few seconds later and he, too, was breathing from his own cylinder. It felt great but he knew their fate was still far from certain. A hundred feet down, no regulator, no mask, no way to communicate about how to structure their decompression stops.

All they could do was find a way to hold on to the tanks while gripping the SDV as the pilot ascended. Maddock knew the pilot would want to get them to the surface as quickly as possible, but the bends was a factor. Maddock had to somehow communicate with him in order to ask him to level off at twenty feet or so for a few minutes to decompress and avoid the dreaded pressure sickness.