The Last Airship (14 page)

He
then added several drops of rich liqueur.

The
two moved to the couch and sat alongside one another, sipping their hot
chocolate for a few minutes before Aliana finally spoke.

“Dad.
What’s wrong?”

“When
you were very little, do you remember when I took financial backing from a man
so that I could finally get your grandfather’s company back off the ground?”

“Yes,
of course. For years the newspapers questioned who your backer was, and why,
even though you own fifty percent of the company, the other half has never been
seen.”

“For
more than twenty years I have not heard so much as a single word from that man,
not until a week ago.”

“What
did he say to you?”

“He
told me that it’s time for him to collect.”

Sam
read a book during the long flight from Sydney to Munich on Lithuanian
Airlines.  After years of working in and out of helicopters, and after having
flown aboard a number of fixed wing and rotary aircraft, one might assume that
he was comfortable aboard the enormous Airbus A380.

Yet,
somehow he didn’t trust something quite so large in the air.

Tom,
he noted, hadn’t woken since their departure. Like a cat, he could sleep
anywhere. He nudged Tom with the sharp point of his elbow.

“Everyone’s
starting to deplane.”

“Oh
yeah?” Tom feigned disappointment. “I said wake me when the food comes around!”

“Yeah,
well I decided you weren’t hungry, and ate your food instead.”

“Some
friend, you are!” Tom said, looking aggrieved.

At
Munich’s International Airport they were met by a man named Dietrich. He was
who had arranged for the delivery of the equipment they had requested, and also
for a Robinson 44 four-seat helicopter to be fueled, waiting, and ready for
them to board.

They
loaded their luggage into the back of the Robinson 44. 

Tom
started the onerous job of ticking off each item on the pre-flight checklist.
It had been a while since he’d flown such a small helicopter. It felt strange
to him in the same way that an airline pilot would feel at the unfamiliar
controls of a Cessna 152.

He
entered the GPS coordinates for the lodge in which they had made reservations,
located at the northern end of Ötztal. It was a little over forty-five minutes by
air, which they started immediately.

Sam
noticed as they flew over them, that the Southern Limestone Alps lived up to
their reputation for sheer beauty. The enormous, limestone mountains were made
of the lighter and more porous rock. In addition to limestone, they contained
dolomite, marl, sandstone and other minerals, rather than the dark granites of
the more familiar Alps.

A
number of alpine lakes could be seen from the air. Their distinct
turquoise-aquamarine color showing the lime content in their makeup.

Tom
pointed below and said, “Any one of those lakes could hide the Magdalena.”

“I
doubt it.”

“Why?”

“Because
they’re crystal clear. If she were down there, someone would have seen her over
the past seventy five years.”

They
continued flying, the hum of the Robinson 44’s engine providing a constant background
noise.

Flying
over the highest peaks on their way to Ötztal, Tom looked at Sam and pointed at
the altimeter.

Its
reading was at 13,000 feet, and they were barely a thousand feet above the
peak.

“I
doubt that any airship could have made it past here.”

“Neither
do I,” Sam agreed. “We’ll start by searching the area to the north of here. We
know the Magdalena left Munich, and that the single gold bar was found at
Innsbruck, approximately twenty miles to the north of here. It’s a big area, so
she could be anywhere. I’m with you though, there’s no way that she could have
cleared the high Ötztal Alps.”

Within
a few minutes the alpine town of Ötztal could be seen ahead of them.

In
its alpine valley, located in Tyrol, Austria, Sam could see the Ötztaler Ache
River flowing in a northern direction. The Ötztal, separates the Stubai Alps in
the east from the Ötztal Alps in the west. Looking at the map, Sam noted that
the valley was 40 miles long, and surrounded by the confluence of the Ötztaler
Ache and the Inn rivers in the east. The southern end of the valley, called the
Gurglertal, terminated at the Italian border. The valley was formed by the main
chain of the Alps, with many glaciers and high peaks, including the Weißkugel
and the Similaun.

Sam
drew a line connecting the three edges of the alpine ranges to form a small
triangle, and placed an asterisk at the top to represent Munich, from where the
Magdalena was known to have departed in 1939. At that time, coming in an
easterly direction, was neutral Switzerland. Due south lay Fascist-ruled Italy,
and to the east, German-ruled Austria. 

He
then looked at the area to the north of the Ötztal River, to a place called
Bahnof, where his old friend had discovered the single gold bar, and Sam marked
the spot with another X, as in “X marks the treasure.”

Tom
started to make their descent and Sam put away the map.

He
wondered if the pilot of an archaic airship, possessing negligible navigational
abilities could have successfully flown through the narrow Ötztal valley, thus
crossing the Southern Limestone Alps, without ever raising his aircraft more
than a couple of thousand feet.

He
shook his head, realizing that the thought was sheer foolishness.

*

Sam
Reilly woke up early the next day.

The
air was crisp, and although the sun had not yet pierced the peaks of the
distant mountains, it wasn’t quite uncomfortably cold. When Sam looked at the
mist ahead, he felt that it mirrored his sentiments on the vast endeavor of the
search ahead of him. He watched as Tom finished making their coffee.

How
could something a hundred and fifty feet long disappear for seventy five years?

He
then considered the more important question
, and how am I going to find it?

Despite
the enormity of the challenge, Sam was happy to be in Europe again.

It
had been years since he’d been to central Europe. He had once dived the canals
of Venice
,
and had promised himself to do so again. So much history
could be discovered there, but so far, he had found little reason to take Deep
Sea Expeditions there.

It
was summer, but not overly warm.

Europe
never was, he decided. He’d rented a log cabin that rested at 3,500 feet. It
was located in a pass that overlooked the Tyrol River.

He
had chosen the place because, unlike the rest of the Tyrolean village, which
rested on the valley floor, it was perched high up in the mountains
,
thus saving them hours of both climbing time and fuel during the many flights
that they would take over the next few weeks.

He
looked at the Robinson 44, which was perched precariously on a purpose-built
helipad that rested on the edge of the mountain. Sam had half expected to
discover that a strong wind had knocked it off its perch over night, but there
it was, still as graceful as ever.

It
was not a very large or powerful vehicle, but it would serve their purpose
well.

He
had considered hiring a Jet Ranger or a Skyhawk, but both were so rarely seen
there that people were bound to comment. The Robinson 44’s were the helicopters
of choice for sightseeing use by tourists. No one was going to take notice of
yet another one above the Alps.

They’d
landed yesterday afternoon, but had decided to take the time to relax and
recover from their jet lag before starting in earnest.

Tom
walked in just as the kettle on the stove began to boil.

“Morning,
Sam.”

He
noticed that Tom, unlike any other traveler he knew, had actually caught up on
sleep during his long-haul flight, and today, was looking even more relaxed
than he had seen him for quite some time – if that was even possible.

He
would give anything to be able to sleep like that.

“Morning,
Tom. You look well rested.”

“Thanks,
I was up early.”

“Really?”
Sam was surprised.

“So,
I’ve looked into the Magdalena for you. She was supposed to be carrying the
following well known families: the Goldschmidts, who were linked by marriage to
the Oppenheimers. They were involved in gold bullion and diamonds; the
Rosenbergs, as in the private banking Rosenbergs, who, rumor has it, funded a
number of crime syndicates in the 1930s. This is what we know about them: the
Goldschmidts would have been carrying large amounts of gold; the Rosenbergs may
have been in possession of the Rosenberg Diamond, which was rumored to be in
excess of 50 carats, cut in a perfect emerald cut. The last was a professor,
about whom we know very little. What we do know is that he was a recluse, and
an avid fascist, who had been working for the Nazi movement. How he came to be
on the Magdalena’s manifest, no one has yet been able to figure out.” 

“What
were you doing on that flight Professor Ritztroben?” Sam asked, thinking out
loud.

“It’s
clear enough that the ship was carrying a fortune in gold and jewelry. Whoever
is after it has already shown their willingness to do anything to prevent
someone else from getting to it before they do.”

“Any
more news about the Wolfgang Corporation?”

“Not
yet. I’m still waiting for my Dad to get back to me with whatever information
he’s been able to discover about our new friends.”

Tom
sat down, and set the two cups of coffee on the table next to the topographical
map, in front of him.

“What’s
our plan?” Tom asked.

“I
was thinking that we’d start with where my friend found the single bar of gold
bullion, and fly an aerial reconnaissance first. Perhaps the answer will
present itself from the air?” Sam said.

“That’s
pretty optimistic, my friend.”

“You
never know. We both know how much clearer these things are from the air.”

“And
you don’t think your friend might have already hired a helicopter to do just
that?” Tom was quick to point out.

“Maybe
he did and that’s what got him killed, but there’s only one way to find out and
at least it’s a start.”

After
breakfast, Sam loaded his daypack and some rope into the chopper, while Tom
prepared it for the day.

They
took off just as the sun penetrated the valley deep below. It looked beautiful
as the rays of sunlight reflected off the snow-capped mountains.

It
was only a little over fifteen minutes flight along the Tyrol valley until they
reached the northern entrance, where Kevin had first come across the gold
bullion, which had started this entire treasure hunt.

About
a thousand feet above the place, Sam examined the location.

It
was a steep wall of limestone, which made the face of the mountain, below which
was a slight saddle through which another could be seen, and far below that,
lay a small lake. Dotted along the mountain face, about halfway up, were
thousands of enormous pine trees.

Kevin,
he recalled, was an avid free-climber. Someone who still believed that the
mountains were sacred places, which should be reserved for those few whose
skills allowed them to ascend without ropes. Looking at the rocky slope below,
Sam imagined that only a few rock climbers had ever scaled this mountain’s
walls in the decades since the Magdalena had first left Munich.

He
found it virtually impossible to think that the mystery of the Magdalena had
remained hidden for so long, simply because no one had bothered to climb this
particular mountain, especially since it was located so close to the entrance
of the popular Southern Limestone Alps.

Tom
made the decision to broaden the search area, and began to fly in increasingly
wide circles around the location.

“I
can understand how a single gold bar managed to remain hidden for so long up
here,” Sam said.

He
was about to continue when Tom interrupted, “But you’ve no idea how a 150 foot
dirigible could?”

“Exactly,”
Sam laughed. The two of them were still thinking the same as each other.

As
the circles widened, Tom said, “I can’t see any place down there where such a
large airship could have set down and yet remained unseen from the air. I mean,
there’s the river down at the very bottom, but it’s nowhere near large enough
to hide such a craft.”

They
continued their reconnaissance from the air, until the helicopter needed to be
refueled.

On
the way back, Sam figured out how they would find the lost Magdalena. They had
been coming at the problem from the wrong angle, but starting tomorrow, he
would rectify that. 

*

That
night, while sitting before the warmth of the fireplace, Tom poured Sam and
himself a snifter of rich cognac.

“Look
at us, Sam,” he said, while pouring.

“What?”
A grin came across Sam’s face.

“Two
old men, sitting here in front of this fire, drinking cognac, the rich stench
of expensive cigars scenting these leather seats.” Tom laughed, his white teeth
reminding Sam of the Cheshire Cat. “Are we getting old, my friend?”

“I
don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam sighed as he took another small sip
of the expensive drink in his hand. “We’re only just entering our thirties.”

“I
mean, it wasn’t all that long ago that we would have camped on the mountains
and climbed our way through them until we discovered our lost Magdalena.”

“That’s
true, but I bet we wouldn’t have found her,” Sam was quick to point out.