The Last Airship (26 page)

John
Wolfgang heard the sound of falling rubble.

It
might have been a massive cave-in, for all the sound that it made.  A moment
later, Brent came through the tunnel and reassured him that they’d finally
broken through.

John
checked his watch.

It
was 0100. Just as Brent had advised him, it had taken 48 hours to accomplish.
“Very good. Did you find their bodies?”

“No,
but it’s definitely where they went.”

“How
can you be so certain?”

Brent
handed him a climbing bag, and said, “We found this at the bottom. Looks like one
of them must have lost it when they came down the tunnel.”

John
looked at the bag. His eyes bulging with recognition, at the sight.

“Very
good. Secure the location and I’ll be down in a few minutes. I have to speak to
the buyer before we kill them. No one goes any further without my orders.”

Brent
acknowledged him, and then added several additional orders in typical military
fashion to his men.

John
felt his head spin.

It
was the first time since the Magdalena had first reared her wicked head that
he’d actually felt physically unwell. He had seen that climbing bag before, and
so he should remember it, since it was the same bag he’d bought for Aliana all
those years ago.

Why
hadn’t she told me that she was climbing with him?

He
had already considered the full extent of what might have happened. If Blake
Simmonds knew that the tunnel reached the Magdalena, then perhaps they knew it
too? If so, how would they try to escape with her? 

Where
would they come out? Then, as he looked out at the valley below, the answer
finally became apparent to him…

Lake
Solitude – of course!

John
then considered how he could get there in time. If they had found the Magdalena,
and then succeeded in finding a way out, it would mean that they already had
more than a two-day head start on him.

It
was time, John decided, to ensure that he had a second chance. He would never
be able to flush them out from this end and secure Lake Solitude with his 5
men, even as efficient as they were. If he had more time, he could bring in
additional help, but he hadn’t expected these complications at all. The only
chance he’d have was to bring in the Navy SEALs, who were already based near
the lake, awaiting any additional information he could offer them.

If
he reached Sam Reilly before he left the Magdalena, he could kill him, retrieve
the virus, and save Aliana.  She’d be mad as hell, of course, but he could deal
with that later. After all, there were much bigger things at stake here than
the life of just one man. If they did manage to find a way out before John
reached them, the SEAL team could capture them, and he and Aliana could receive
amnesty from the U.S. government. 

John
placed the call.

“We
were right about something,” he said, “Lake Solitude was indeed where the Magdalena
disappeared. You’ll need to secure the site within the next twelve hours if you
want to catch them.”

“We’ll
do that, and John….” the directness of the woman’s voice sent a chill down his
spine, “you’d better hope we get a return on our investment this time. We’ve
already spent a lot of money toward this, and if we don’t have something to
show for it, we’re taking you in.”

“Don’t
worry. If I can’t produce the goods this time, I’m counting on you taking me
in.”

*

Lugano
was a little lake town in the north of Italy, shadowed by the dolomite
mountains in the distance.  Sam considered what he would need as Tom landed the
helicopter in a small park at the town’s southern tip.

“There’s
an adventure and climbing store here that meets the needs of tourists who are
attracted to the lake and the Dolomite ranges. I’m not sure how much diving
equipment they’re likely to have on hand,” Tom said.

“That’s
okay. For what I’m after, we won’t need much dive gear.”

After
the short flight, during which the heating manifold was set to full, Sam’s body
temperature was beginning to return to normal, and with it, his usual level of
confidence. The two men split up as Tom went to find out where he could get his
hands on dynamite.

It
was a clear sunny morning, but as cold as winter.

“Good
morning,” Sam said to the man standing behind the counter, as he entered the
adventure store.

“Good
morning, can I help you?” It was the welcoming voice of a Canadian, drawn to
the town for the beginning of its peak climbing season.

“Yes,
I have a list of the equipment I need,” Sam said, as handed a slip of paper
over the counter.

“An
inflatable zodiac with a small two stroke engine, one large propane tank and
burner, 200 feet of  rope line, diving equipment for one person, a dry suit – 2
inch thick, and dual air tanks.” The sales assistant’s left eyebrow raised in a
tiny gesture, as though he couldn’t imagine what Sam wanted with such a list of
equipment, and then said, “Anything else?”

“Yeah,
is there a marine mechanic here?” Sam asked.

“Just
around the corner. Go out the door, and head up the street two blocks and you’ll
find a guy who’s open.”

“Thanks.
I’ll be back shortly to collect the gear, if you could please have it ready for
me,” Sam said, handing over Tom’s Deep Sea Expeditions, company credit card.

“Not
a problem.”

Sam
moved quickly to locate the mechanic.

He
walked into the shop, knowing exactly what was needed.

Walking
through the store, Sam discussed with the salesperson exactly what he needed, and
after a short while, the mechanic returned with them.

He
then purchased 20 gallons of fuel - it wasn’t much
,
but it would have to
do.

Sam
thanked the mechanic who’d helped him and walked out with a cart filled with parts,
which he then added to the other pile of dive gear, and waited for Tom to
arrive with the now-refueled chopper.

He
watched as Tom landed the helicopter, and then, leaving the rotors spinning,
Tom carefully stepped out of it, lowered his head, and carefully walked up to
greet him.

“I’ve
got some bad news,” Tom said.

“What
now?”

“He
called again.”

Sam
knew instantly who Tom was referring to, and he took great pains not to show
his concern, as he asked, “What did he say?”

“They’re
not making an attempt at diving Lake Solitude as we expected they would.”
Despite the good news, Tom’s face showed that his concern was justified.
“Instead, they know about the ancient tunnel into which you and Aliana must
have fallen
,
and they are tunneling down from above to reach it. Based
on his predictions, they’ll breakthrough in another eight hours.”

“Okay,
lets a get a move on, then.”

They
both boarded the helicopter, and as Tom flew over the southern tip of the
Dolomite ranges
,
Sam spotted something.

At
first glance, he assumed that it was just a climbing team on the Via Farrata. A
closer examination revealed that they were all armed with military assault
rifles.

“Oh
shit, look at that,” Sam said, pointing below.

“Who
the hell are they?”

“There
must be a hundred or more of them. Whoever it is they work for, they’re not
taking any chances, are they, now?”

“Yeah,
but who do you think they work for?” Tom asked.

“What
do you mean?”

“Well,
we know that John Wolfgang and his team of mercenaries are trying to break into
the tunnel you and Aliana fell through. So, if his team is in there, who the
hell is responsible for these soldiers?”

“I
have no idea, and I don’t intend on sticking around long enough to find out.”

“We
just might be able to rescue Aliana, but we’ll never have time to get the
Magdalena’s treasures out of there,” Tom said. “There are just too many of
these guys on the mountain.”

“There
still might just be a way.”

“How?”

“What
if we fly the Magdalena out of there?”

“Are
you kidding me?” Tom’s face displayed his incredulity. “You want to fly a 75 year-old
dirigible, which crashed, mind you, when it was new, off the mountain?”

“Yes,
I do.”

“And,
they called me crazy.”

“So,
are you going to help me?” Sam asked.

“Of
course, I will. What are friends for?”

*

It
was almost six o’clock in the evening. The last rays of the sun were edging
their way to the side of the mountain behind Sam Reilly. As he quickly prepared
his dive equipment, in the distance, he could hear the sound of Tom performing
the tedious task drilling holes in which to place the sticks of dynamite.

“How
much longer do you think you’ll need
,
Tom?” Sam asked over his radio.

“It’ll
be ready to blow within the next three hours.”

“Okay,
let’s sync our watches in five, four, three, two, one. Mark 15:05.”

“Mark
15:05,” Tom repeated.

“Let’s
blow this thing at 18:05.”

“Copy
that. Will do.”

Just
as Sam was about to make his dive, he asked, “How certain are you that this is
going to work?”

“I’ve
laid dynamite a number of times before. We’ve both done it, underwater. I know
how to lay the stuff, but I just don’t know for certain how big this thing is.
I’ve added another 25 percent on top of what you estimated. You tell me? How
confident you are about your estimation of the rock wall?”

Sam
connected the last of his regulator fittings together and then said, “Okay,
don’t add any more than that. You don’t want to blow apart the rest of the
mountain. The Italian government’s going to be pissed as hell as it is, when
they find out we’ve blown up part of their mountain without approval.”

Then,
Sam dived under the water and started to make his descent to 30 feet, the depth
at which he’d swum out of the underwater tunnel eight hours earlier. The tunnel
was narrow, and he struggled with his underwater bag, which carried the
equipment that was so essential for his plan to work.

When
he eventually made it to the other side of the rock wall, he was amazed that
he’d managed to get through there without using any dive equipment. The ordeal
had really caused him to push himself to the edge of life and death.

“Can
you still hear me, Tom?”

There
was no answer.

As
Sam expected, the solid rock wall precluded any form of electronic
communication. Hopefully, the next time he made contact with Tom
,
the
dynamite would have already worked and they would be on their way to freedom.

That
is, if it did work. 

If
it didn’t work, he couldn’t imagine what their next move would be.

Sam
kicked his fins slowly as he made his way through the enormous tunnel. It was a
long way to go, but like most trips, this time it seemed to be a much shorter
distance now that he had his dive equipment and could breathe.

In
the distance, the green glow that he’d never forget could be seen illuminating
the underground lake in which the Magdalena was trapped.

His
heart raced as he thought about the prospect of seeing Aliana again.

As
his head broke the surface of the lake
,
Sam could see her face. There
were tears in her eyes.

“You
made it!” Aliana said, as she raced to him and threw her arms around his wet
body. “And you came back for me! Everything’s really going to be okay?”

Sam
kissed her. It was a passionate kiss, but it ended sooner than he would have liked.

“It
sure is. But we’re going to have to work quickly. We don’t have much time,” Sam
said.

“Why,
what’s happened?”

“I’ll
explain on the way, but first...” Sam said, looking at his watch, which showed
that it was already 17:10, “we have a few things that need to be done.”

John
Wolfgang climbed up and over the rock inside the tunnel. On the other side were
a number of glowworms, a smaller tunnel
,
and the shoreline of an underwater
stream. At the end closest to himself, John noticed a steel bolt in the
limestone wall. Its appearance suggested that something had been tied off on it
at a previous time.

Had
there been a boat tied there?

John
waded into the water, followed by Brent and the other mercenaries.

It
was cold, and the water deepened quickly. After taking his third or fourth
step, he was unable to stand anymore
,
and started to swim. He was a
slower swimmer than the mercenaries, but his need to get there first kept him focused.

John
sensed that he was getting near.

He
looked at his watch.

It
read: 18:00.

Up
ahead
,
he could hear a man and a woman speaking in fast, urgent words.
His team was getting close. It drove him to swim faster through the tunnel.

Then
he heard what sounded like a loud clap of thunder.

Brent
looked at him and said, “That’s either a cave in, or someone’s just used
dynamite.”

*

Sam
watched as the large air bubbles underneath the Magdalena reached the surface.
Aliana had looked at him as though he were mad when he told her that he needed
to lay some dynamite. After 75 years, it was going to take a lot to release the
Magdalena from the hold of the silty bottom
,
or at the very least,
months of digging – and there was clearly no time for that.

He
watched with satisfaction, looking down from the pilot house, as the limestone
silt on the bottom
,
below the primary gondola
,
which had remained
firmly locked, started bubbling like a boiling cauldron.

It
continued for a couple minutes, and then a second dynamite blast exploded
,
sending
another round of vibrations rippling up toward the surface.

“How
confident are you that you’re not going to blow us and the Magdalena to
pieces?” Aliana asked.

Sam
looked at her, a grin on his face displaying his self-confidence, as he
recalled all the shipwrecks that he’d successfully resurfaced from the seafloor
over the years, and then said, “I have a fairly good idea of what I’m doing.”

“How
many of those wrecks contained a virus so lethal that any damage to its
container could literally threaten the existence of the human race on this
planet?” Aliana asked.

“I
was careful. Don’t worry,” Sam assured her.

The
virus, inside its container, had been carefully moved to the pilot gondola,
which sat higher up towards the front of the canopy, allowing it to remain dry
once the Magdalena was once again floating freely in the water.

At
just that instant, a large wave of water came barreling towards them.

In
the middle of the lake
,
Sam felt her break free from the silty bottom
,
and for the first time in 75 years, she was floating freely again, albeit,
this time in water rather than in the air.

Sam
pulled down on the two main propeller throttles.

The
twin Daimler-Benz engines at the rear of the Magdalena roared into life, as
fuel was allowed to increase its flow for the two engines at the rear of the
Magdalena, which he’d managed to get started again.  

Turning
the wheel in his hands, Sam could feel her enormous rudder moving lethargically
in the water. He increased the throttle
,
and the airship started to move
forward, ever so slowly.

Tom
would be blowing the tunnel entrance wide open any minute now, Sam thought.

And
then the sound of gunpowder blasting echoed through the enormous cavern. His
first thought was that the dynamite had exploded, but the sound of it didn’t
seem to be quite powerful enough.

Maybe
it wasn’t enough to blow the opening apart?

Then
Sam realized where the sound had originated.

Behind
him, he spotted men dressed in black military jumpsuits, rapidly approaching.
Each man, in turn, took careful aim and fired at the Magdalena.

*

Outside
the tunnel, Tom could hear the distant sound of a firefight.

It
took him a second to realize that they weren’t firing at him. On the opposite
side of the lake, he could see the telltale sparks of gunfire; the tracers were
lighting up the lake. He knew that they were on their way, but what he couldn’t
figure out, was how they had managed to get there so quickly.

Then
he noticed that the gunfire was also being returned from the other side.

How
many fucking people
are
there
searching for this damn ship?

When
Tom had originally heard the sound of gunfire, he’d assumed that it was Blake
Simmonds’ mercenaries attacking him. But, he could now see that they were
firing at someone else, but who could it be?

The
sound of gunfire was drawing closer.

If
he wanted to get off the mountain in time to draw the attention away from the
mountain, of any other helicopters that were patrolling, Tom was going to have
to blow the dynamite soon.

Tom
wouldn’t permit himself to worry about or be distracted by potential problems
that were out of his hands, and he continued to lay the last of the dynamite
fuse lines.

Each
of the lines ran to a central location where they attached to a central
wireless router, allowing him to set off the charge from the air.

In
the distance, he noticed that the first tracer bullets were approaching the
edge of the area where his helicopter rested.

He
was glad that Sam had suggested laying the extra charges and the line of
aviation fuel, and he just hoped that the transmitter would work properly when
he needed it.

*

Blake
Simmonds continued to move along toward Lake Solitude with his team of
mercenaries.

After
coming to terms with the knowledge that John Wolfgang had betrayed his boss,
Blake knew their only option was to help Sam Reilly escape, which would give
him the chance to steal the virus once they were out of the mountain. There was
certainly no time left to make it to the top and then try to follow John’s team
in through the tunnels.

Blake’s
only hope was that by tipping off Tom Bower about the threat, he would come
back and try to find a way to get Sam out of the bloody mountain. Once Sam
Reilly was finally free, Blake could take out both Sam and Tom once and for all,
and then steal the virus.

When
Blake and his team had first arrived at Lake Solitude, he was at first worried
that Tom might not have taken the bait. He was relieved when he spotted Tom’s
helicopter. Behind it, were the remains of thousands of tons of rocky rubble
that appeared to have come from a landslide that must have occurred many
decades ago.

That
must be the spot where he’s going to attempt to get Sam Reilly out.

His
moment of relief was very short-lived, as Michael, the leader of his mercenary
team, came to inform him that they’d spotted a team of Navy SEALs rapidly
approaching the helicopter.

Where
the fuck did they come from?

“Do
you want us to remain concealed?” Michael asked, bringing his thoughts back to
the matter at hand.

“No,
I want you to engage, and make certain that they do not stop the man in that
helicopter from blowing the mountain apart.”

“Understood.”

*

Tom
flicked the connection switch on his wireless detonator.

The
green light flickered briefly, and then changed to the blue symbol – indicating
that the wireless connection wasn’t reaching the helicopter.

He
slid the power switch to maximum.

It
would drain the power quickly, but provide a greater range for reaching for the
wireless connection.

The
connectivity light was still firmly locked on the color blue.

Behind
him, he noted that there were so many tracer bullets flying through the air,
that he could have sworn he was witnessing the Northern Lights. To make matters
worse, this simulated aurora borealis was continuing to move steadily closer to
him.

Tom’s
next decision was a simple one – he could either take off and escape now, or he
could detonate the explosives on the mountain while he was still on the ground,
and then take his chances by using the confusion to cover his take-off. In
reality, either option left both he and his best friends in a deadly position.

He
knew immediately that it was no choice at all.

Tom
switched the master switch to “on”, and started the rotation of the helicopter
blades.

*

Sam
Reilly couldn’t believe their timing.

If
Tom had blown the rock wall a minute earlier, they would have been too far into
the tunnel, and out of the lake, to be attacked. Instead, John Wolfgang and his
team were now stationed on the far banks taking aim at him.

He
pulled each throttle to full.

Despite
the fact that the tunnel at the end of the lake remained full of water, Sam
motored towards its entrance. He knew that Tom wouldn’t fail him.

The
splendid red of the tracer bullets looked like shooting stars through the dark
cavern.

Behind
him, he could hear the sound of a dozen or more rounds spraying the back of the
Magdalena’s canopy.

He
reduced the power of his port propeller, and then increased power to the
starboard one, causing the airship to slowly turn on its axis to port. In so
doing, he positioned the back of the Magdalena closer to the enemy gunfire.

Sam
looked at Aliana, whose focus on her task hadn’t wavered for a second, despite
the gunfire, and said, “Hey, does this story seem somewhat familiar to you?”

“Sure
does. Let’s just hope that this time it has a different ending.”

Sam
felt the world shudder beneath him.

The
water started to move towards the tunnel’s opening.

Aliana
pointed at the roof of the tunnel, still only a couple feet above the rapidly
receding waterline and said, “We’re never going to make it.”

“Have
faith, my darling. This tunnel is well above the height of Lake Solitude. If
Tom has successfully blown the entrance to the tunnel, then this entire volume
of water is going to quickly disappear.”

“Sure,
but if it doesn’t make enough room for us soon, won't the suction drag us under
anyway?”

“May
do…” Sam replied. It was the best answer he could come up with under the
circumstances.

Behind
them, more bullets could be heard spraying the Magdalena’s canopy.

Sam
put both propellers in full reverse, but found that it had little effect over
the strong suction of the current which continued to draw them forward, towards
the receding water at the entrance of the tunnel.

Sam
wrapped his arms tightly around Aliana.

He
was quite certain that the nose of the Magdalena was going to collide with the
tunnel’s roof and smash it into a million pieces.

As
the Magdalena was about to collide with the tunnel roof, the lake
,
now
almost completely drained of its water
,
appeared to drop suddenly from
underneath them.

It
felt as though the Magdalena was sinking.

In
reality, she was still floating on the water inside the tunnel, which was
disappearing beneath them.

Sam
waved goodbye to his attackers as he, Aliana, and the Magdalena disappeared
below the surface of the now-empty lake.