Atlantis Found (68 page)

“What you say is true,” said Karl contemptuously. “No head of government would dare risk the consequences of indicting the Wolf family.”

“Nor incur our wrath,” added Elsie. “There isn’t a high official or national leader who doesn’t owe our family. Our exposure will be their exposure.”

“We cannot be imprisoned like common rabble,” said Blondi, her voice having regained a measure of insolence. “The family is too spirited, too strong-willed. We will rise again, and next time we will not fail.”

“I, for one,” said Giordino, his black eyes filled with scorn, “think
that
is a bad idea.”

“We’ll all rest easier knowing you won’t be around to have a hand in it,” said Pitt coldly.

Karl Wolf’s eyes narrowed, and then he stared out over the icy landscape. “I believe I see your motive,” he murmured in subdued tones. “You are turning us loose to die out on the ice floe.”

“Yes.” Pitt nodded his head slightly.

“Not dressed for frigid temperatures, we won’t last an hour.”

“My guess is twenty minutes.”

“It seems I underestimated you as an opponent, Mr. Pitt.”

“I have this theory that the world can get along just fine without the chief director of Destiny Enterprises and the family empire.”

“Why don’t you simply shoot us and get it over with?”

Pitt gazed at Wolf with the briefest of pleasure in his green eyes. “That would be too quick. This way you’ll have time to reflect on the horror you attempted to inflict on billions of innocent people.”

There was a slight flush on Wolf’s temples. In a supportive gesture, he put his arms around his sister’s shoulders. “Your lecture bores me, Mr. Pitt. I’d rather meet death by freezing than listen to more of your philosophic drivel.”

Pitt looked thoughtfully at Karl Wolf and his sisters. He wondered if it was possible to make a dent in this incorrigible family. The loss of their empire shook them, but the threat of death didn’t unnerve them in the least. If anything, it maddened them. He looked from one face to the other. “A word of warning. Don’t bother attempting to double back into the tunnels or the mining facility. All entrances and exits will be guarded.” Then he made a gesture with his old Colt. “Start walking.”

Blondi looked resigned to her fate, as did Karl. Already she was shivering violently from the biting cold. Not Elsie. She lunged at Pitt, only to receive a backhand from Giordino that knocked her to her knees. As she struggled to her feet, helped by Karl, Pitt had rarely seen such a look of pure malevolence on a woman’s face.

“I swear, I’ll kill you,” she snarled through bloody lips.

Pitt smiled ruthlessly. “Goodbye, Elsie, have a nice day.”

“If you walk fast,” said Giordino cynically, “you’ll stay warmer.”

Then he slammed and locked the door.

47

FORTY-EIGHT HOURS LATER, THE mining facility was crawling with scientists and engineers, who began studying the Wolfs’ nanotechnology systems while making dead certain the network to break off the ice shelf could not be reactivated. They were followed by an army of anthropologists and archaeologists, who descended on the ancient city of the Amenes. Almost all were former skeptics who denied the existence of an Atlantis-type culture before 4000 B.C. Now they stood and walked amid the ancient ruins in reverent awe, gazing at the grotesque shape of the pillars under ice, unable to believe what they were truly encountering. Soon they were cataloging the artifacts found in the damaged aircraft and the storage rooms in the tunnels spreading from the hangar. After being carefully crated, the artifacts were flown to the United States for conservation and in-depth study before being placed on public display.

Every university in every country with a dedicated archaeology department sent teams to study the city and begin removing the ice that had shrouded it for nine millennia. It would be a massive project that would continue for nearly fifty years and would lead to other undiscovered Amenes sites; the incredible magnitude of artifacts would eventually fill museums in every major city of the world.

His face repaired by a medical team flown in to tend and evacuate the wounded, Pitt, along with Giordino, greeted Dad Cussler when he and his crew arrived to disassemble the remains of the Snow Cruiser for shipment back to a restoration shop in the States. They accompanied him to the control center and then stood back with heavy misgivings as he examined the vehicle for the first time since it had left Little America VI.

The old man stared solemnly and sadly at the great red vehicle that was battered to a pulp, riddled with bullet holes, tires shredded and flat, the windows in the control cabin shot to shards. Nearly three full minutes passed as he walked around the wreckage, examining the damage. Finally, he looked up and made a crooked grin.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” he said, pulling at his gray beard.

Pitt stared at him bleakly. “You really believe it can be rebuilt?”

“I know so. Might take a couple of years, but I think we can put her back together as good as new.”

“It doesn’t seem possible,” said Giordino, shaking his head.

“You and I aren’t seeing the same thing,” said Cussler. “You see a pile of junk. I see a magnificent machine that will one day be admired by millions of people at the Smithsonian.” His blue-green eyes gleamed as he spoke. “What you don’t realize is that you took a mechanical failure and turned it into an astonishing success. Before, the Snow Cruiser’s only distinction was that it was a fiasco and didn’t come close to achieving what it was designed to do. And that was to carry a crew in comfort five thousand miles over the ice of the Antarctic. It floundered almost immediately after coming off the boat in 1930 and lay buried for seventy years. You two not only proved her a triumph of early-twentieth-century engineering by driving her sixty miles across the ice shelf in the middle of a blizzard, but you used her brute size and power to prevent a worldwide cataclysm. Now, thanks to you, she’s a priceless and treasured piece of history.”

Pitt gazed at the huge mutilated vehicle as if it were a wounded animal. “But for her, none of us would be standing here.”

“Someday, I hope you’ll tell me the entire story.”

Giordino looked at the old man oddly. “Somehow, I think you already know it.”

“When she’s put on display,” said Dad, slapping Pitt on the back, “I’ll send you both invitations to the ceremony.”

“Al and I will look forward to it.”

“That reminds me. Could you point out whoever is in charge here. During our crossing from the ice station, my crew and I ran across three frozen bodies about a half a mile from the runway. It looked like they were trying to cross over the security fence before the cold caught up with them. I’d better report it so the remains can be recovered.”

“A man and two women?” Pitt asked innocently.

Dad nodded. “Funny thing. They were dressed more like they were going to a football game in Philadelphia than to survive the Antarctic.”

“Some people just don’t respect the hazards of frigid climates.”

Dad lifted an eyebrow, then reached in his pocket and pulled out a red bandanna half the size of a pup tent and blew his nose. “Yeah, ain’t it the truth.”

 
AIRCRAFT were landing with frequency, unloading scientists and military personnel, then loading Cleary’s wounded along with the injured Wolf security guards and airlifting them to hospitals in the United States. Not to be left out, the nuclear submarine
Tucson
navigated her way through the cavern into the ice-enclosed harbor and moored next to the old Nazi U-BOATS.

Captain Evan Cunningham was a bantam cock of a man, short and wiry, who moved his arms and legs as if jerked on strings. He had a smooth face with a sharp chin and Prussian blue eyes that seemed constantly in motion. He met with Colonel Wittenberg and General Bill Guerro, who had been sent to Okuma Bay from Washington to take command from Wittenberg and oversee the growing complexity of the discovery. Cunningham offered the services of his ship and crew as authorized by the naval chief of staff.

Wittenberg had described Pitt to Cunningham, and the commander had sought out the man from NUMA. He approached and introduced himself. “Mr. Pitt, we’ve talked over the radio, but haven’t actually met. I’m Evan Cunningham, captain of the
Tucson.”

“A privilege to meet you, Captain. Now I can properly express my thanks for your timely rescue of the
Polar Storm
and everyone on board.”

“A lucky case of being in the right place at the right time.” He grinned broadly. “Not every sub commander in today’s navy can say he sank a U-boat.”

“Certainly not unless they’ve retired to a nursing home.”

“Speaking of U-boats, did you know there are four more docked in the ice harbor?”

Pitt nodded. “I took a quick look at them this morning. They’re as pristine as the day they came out of the factory.”

“My engine-room crew went on board to study them. They were mighty impressed with the high quality of engineering created when their grandparents were still in junior high school.”

“To anyone born after 1980, World War Two must seem as distant as the Civil War was to our parents.”

Pitt excused himself as he glanced at the passengers stepping down the boarding ladder of a Boeing 737 that had taxied up to the hangar. A woman wearing a knit cap with red hair flowing from under it like a fiery waterfall stopped for a moment and looked around the hangar, marveling at the busy activity. Then she looked in his direction and her face lit up.

Pitt began to walk toward her, but was overtaken by Giordino, who ran past him, took Pat O’Connell in his muscular arms, lifted her off the ground as easily as if she were a down pillow, and swung her around in a circle. Then they kissed passionately.

Pitt watched them, mystified. When Giordino set Pat on her feet again, she looked over and waved. Pitt kissed her lightly on one cheek, stood back, and said, “Have I been missing something or do you two have a thing for each other?”

Pat laughed gaily. “Al and I looked into each other’s eyes when we were in Buenos Aires and something beautiful happened between us.”

He looked at Giordino dryly. “Like what?”

“Like we fell in love.”

Pitt was no longer mystified. He was dumbfounded. “You fell in love?”

Giordino shrugged and smiled. “I can’t explain it. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“Does this mean you’re breaking up the act?”

“My friend, you and I have been through a lot together, more wild ventures than I care to remember. It’s a miracle we’re still alive, and we have more than our share of scars to prove it. We have to face reality. We’re not getting any younger. My joints are beginning to creak when I get up in the morning. We’ve got to think about slowing down.” He paused and grinned. “And then, of course, there’s Mama Giordino to consider.”

“You have a mother?” asked Pat, teasing.

“You and Mama will get along famously,” Giordino said approvingly. “Mama said I can’t remain a bachelor forever if I want to give her little Giordinos to fatten with her celebrated lasagna.”

“We’d better hurry.” Pat laughed. “At thirty-five, I don’t have much time left to produce a new brood.”

“You have Megan,” Pitt said.

“Yes, and she adores Al.”

Pitt shook his head in wonder. “Megan approves of this alien character?”

“Why shouldn’t she?” Pat said. “He saved her life.”

Pitt didn’t mention that he had a hand in saving mother and daughter, too. Nor did he let on that he had a fondness for Pat that went beyond mere friendship. “Well, I guess there’s nothing left for me to do but give my blessing and insist on being the best man at your wedding.”

Giordino put his arm around Pitt’s shoulder and said wistfully, “I can’t think of another mortal I’d rather have stand up for me.”

“Have you set a date?”

“Not before six months,” answered Pat. “Admiral Sandecker arranged for me to direct the project to decipher and translate the Amenes inscriptions found in the lost city. It will actually take years, but I don’t think he’ll hold it against me if I go home early for a wedding with Al.”

“No,” Pitt said, trying to absorb the unexpected promise of Al becoming married. “I don’t guess he will.”

Lieutenant Miles Jacobs came up and threw a casual salute. “Mr. Pitt? Colonel Wittenberg would like a word with you.”

“Where can I find him?”

“He and General Guerro have set up a command post in one of the aircraft maintenance offices on the far end of the hangar.”

“I’m on my way, thank you.” Pitt turned and looked at Giordino. “You’d better get Pat situated in one of the empty storerooms—she can use it for living quarters and a base for her inscription project.” Then he turned and strode through the turmoil of activity to the military command post.

Wittenberg sat at his desk and gestured to a chair, as Pitt entered one of the offices the Russian slaves had carved out of the ice nearly six decades previously. A communications center had been set up, manned by two operators. The place was a madhouse, with civilians and military personnel rushing in and out. General Guerro sat behind a large metal desk in one corner, surrounded by scientists who were requesting the military rush in special excavation equipment so they could begin removing the ice shroud from the ancient city. He did not look happy as he made excuses for the delay.

“Have you found the relics yet?”

“We’ve been too busy to search,” answered Wittenberg. “I thought I’d pass the buck to you. If you’re successful, let me know and I’ll schedule a military transport to fly you back to the States.”

“I’ll get back to you shortly,” said Pitt, rising to his feet. “I think I know where the Wolfs put them.”

“One more thing, Mr. Pitt,” said Wittenberg seriously. “Do not say anything to anyone. It’s best the relics are removed quietly, before a lot of crazies get wind of their existence and move heaven and earth to lay their hands on them.”