The Last Airship (21 page)

It
appeared even more beautiful in the distance, viewed from this height.

On
the other side of the tunnel, where they’d entered, he heard his pursuer speak
in a thick German accent.

“Sam
Reilly. Stop. I’m on your side. They’re going to kill you!”

It
was a ruse, and neither Sam nor Aliana responded.

“Blake
Simmonds sent me here to tell you that if you get too close
,
they will
never let you live!” The voice was clear, but the man’s breathing sounded
labored. Sam had seen his leg, and knew that
he must be in agony.

So,
it was Blake Simmonds who betrayed me.

Sam
then heard the voice of another person, speaking in German, at the other end of
the tunnel.  It was relatively quiet, and despite the speaker’s use of a
foreign language, Sam could tell that the person was speaking calmly.

Aliana
nudged his shoulder, and directed his attention to a spot that was located a
few feet to the side of the tunnel’s entrance. There, Sam could just make out
the slightest outline of another opening – this one running deeper inside the
bowels of the mountain.

He
nodded his head in recognition of the fact that it might be their only chance
to escape.

*

John
Wolfgang was panting heavily by the time he made it to the ledge containing the
entrance to the tunnel.

He
walked up to the other man, and said in German, “Where are they, Carl?”

“Where
are who?”

“Don’t
play dumb with me, Carl.”

“Who's
playing?” Carl asked.

“Okay,
suit yourself,” John said, as he pulled out his pistol, pointed it at Carl’s
face, and at close range, pulled the trigger.

A
large hole instantly bloomed where Carl’s head once was, and he fell to the
ground on the narrow ledge. He tried in vain to breathe for a couple of seconds
before his brain finally caught up to the reality that he had been shot at
point blank range with a powerful pistol.

Well,
at least one of those damned treasure hunters is now out of my way.

From
the other side of the tunnel entrance, he watched, relieved, as his own elite
team was now quickly making their way into the tunnel.

*

Sam
followed Aliana down into the little hole, before he heard another crack of
gunfire. It was dark inside, but a small draft reassured him that the crevasse extended
even further.

They
climbed down another fifteen to twenty feet, using their arms and legs to press
against the rock walls and slow their descent.

The
hole dropped down much further than either of them expected.

When
they could no longer see the opening at the top of the crevasse, the two of
them stopped their descent entirely.

Above
them, Sam could hear the two men shouting at each other in German. It was the
first time he realized that there were
several people after them.

The
yelling got even closer.

Sam
would have loved to know what they were saying, but he didn’t dare ask Aliana
to translate for him, in fear of it giving away their hiding place.

The
shouting quieted somewhat, and now sounded more like a series of distinct
questions, as if his pursuers had drawn closer together.

Then
he heard another sound, similar to that of a small rock falling
,
and it
echoed down the same gap in the rock wall in which they were hiding.

Aliana,
whose native German ears understood every word that had been spoken, yelled, “Grenade!”

They
both released their pressure on the rock walls and slid downward in a complete
free fall.

Above
them, they heard a large explosion, followed by the sound of limestone
crashing.

And
still, they continued to fall.

The
entire tunnel that John had been standing inside shook after his grenade
exploded. He instinctively raised his arms above his head to protect himself
from any falling debris. For an instant he actually wondered if the entire
tunnel was going to cave in on him.

He
was wrong about that, but the thick dust that billowed out of the tunnel could
easily be just as lethal. John ducked down and made his way to the tunnel’s
closest exit. Then, with the calm experience of someone who’d spent many years
climbing these mountains
,
he carefully climbed down half a dozen rungs
of the Via Ferrata below.

The
air was fresh again – and it felt naturally crisp by comparison to the rock
dust that he’d been breathing and from which he’d just escaped.

It
was over
.
Sam Reilly was dead.

He’d
just bought himself some more time.

In
his pocket, John’s cell phone began to vibrate silently. He slid his hand
across its face to accept the call. 

Its
caller ID read, “Blake Simmonds.”

“Speak.”

“What
are you doing, John?” Blake asked, in the coarse voice of a man who’d smoked
too much for far too long.

“Never
you mind
,
Blake. I’m trying to take care of something you were supposed
to fix.”

“And
I will fix it. In fact, my guy is in the process of taking him out right now.”

“I
doubt that,” John replied, chuckling. “I doubt that very much indeed.”

“Why
is that?”

“Well,
for starters he’s dead, and so is Sam Reilly.”

“Carl’s
dead?” Blake’s voice sounded irritated. “He was loyal. It takes a long time to
make a man really loyal, doesn’t it?”

“So
it does,” John agreed.

Both
men subscribed to a world where loyalties could easily be exchanged for more
money, better opportunities
,
and self-satisfaction.

“And
Sam Reilly’s really dead?” Blake asked, seeking reassurance.

“Yes.”

“Well,
that’s something, at least.”

“Now,
what about the other thing? Are we close?”

“We’re
getting there, but it will still take some time,” John replied.

“Don’t
take too long. The buyers are getting impatient, and you know what that means,
don’t you?”

“Yes,
of course.”

*

Blake
Simmonds ended the call.

He
noticed an unopened text message on it from Carl.

He
opened it, and read, “For your information, boss, Sam Reilly is here with
Aliana Wolfgang.”

Blake
Simmonds laughed aloud, in a way he hadn’t laughed since this whole affair
began, all those years ago.

The
European backpacker that Sam Reilly had picked up was John’s own daughter?

The
implications of the statement were enormous. 

Could
it be possible that John didn’t even realize that his daughter was with them?

Blake
considered how this new piece of information might be useful to him
,
and
then looked at the GPS on his cell phone. It displayed the location of his own
team
,
and he wondered whether they would reach it in time.

Could
it be that John doesn’t even realize how close he is to stumbling upon it?

He
tapped the helicopter pilot on the shoulder, and said, “Take us back – there’s
been a change of plans.”

*

Sam
slid deeper into the large crevasse with Aliana.

The
crash of large rocks falling could be heard all around them. Sam had no idea
where this drop would eventually take them, but the alternative was to be
killed by the landslide that the explosion had caused above them.

At
the bottom of the crevasse, they skidded along a flat section of the rocky
fissure as it leveled out. A split second later, several tons of rock came
crashing down, completely blocking their exit.

Sam
flicked on the small headlamp, and then looked back at the mounds of rocky
debris now strewn along the route they’d used when they had entered. 

“Well,
we can’t go back the way we came,” Aliana said, pointing out the obvious. Even
if she and Sam could possibly move the rocks, their pursuers would be waiting
for them on the other side.

“No,
that’s for certain.”

“So,
then, now what do we do?”

Sam
turned his head to where the crevasse seemed to continue on into a natural
tunnel.

A
strange green luminescence could be seen emanating from the other side. He
looked at Aliana, who seemed to be equally fascinated by it.

The
strange glow so mesmerized Sam, that he nearly forgot the fact that someone had
just tried, for the third time this month
,
to kill him.

The
air in the tunnel was cool, yet it was warmer than the air outside.

“We
may as well follow it,” Sam suggested and they started to walk in the only
direction that was left available to them.

The
narrow tunnel led to a larger one, followed by a smaller one containing
stagnant water. The number of glowworms scattered about on the limestone walls
increased as they moved along, and formed the basis of a glow so strong that
they were both able to turn off their headlamps.

They
clambered over a large rock, perhaps twelve feet high, and lying on its side.
Once they reached its other side, Sam saw an image that was as surreal as it
was beautiful, and which appeared to be completely out of place.

Stagnant
water filled the tunnel and a little wooden boat could be seen floating there;
its leather painter still tied off on a rock, looking as though it was waiting
for its owner, who’d only left it there a few hours ago.  It might have been
floating there for a hundred years or more. The glowworms provided just enough
light to enable them to see that the subterranean lake stretched ahead for
quite a distance.

“It
looks pretty old,” Sam said, as he tested the buoyancy of the wooden boat by
pushing down on it, and was pleased to note that the old boat seemed to maintain
his weight easily enough.

“I
wonder how long it has been here?” Aliana said, as her beautiful blue eyes
admired the enigmatic place, and then she added, “The limestone in this
mountain has made it easy for many tunnels to form naturally. Armies, farmers and
travelers alike have used such tunnels to cross the mountains fast, and in
secret, as far back as the early 16
^th
century, and perhaps, even
earlier.”

“This
section of the tunnel must have collapsed many years ago near where we entered
it, and this poor boat has remained stranded here, where this cold, dark
environment, does not permit even time to pass.”

“But
where did it go?” Aliana asked.

“If
someone took the trouble to leave a boat this high up and inside of this
mountain, I can only guess that it goes somewhere, or at least, once did. I’d
say, our chances of survival have just risen – at least a little.”

Sam
sat down in the middle of the boat and then gave Aliana a look which said, “Do
you dare?”

She
climbed aboard and sat down in front of him, and he started to push the boat
forward along the underground creek. The waterway continued on much further
than he had expected. There were a number of wider sections, followed by a
couple of very narrow sections, barely wide enough to allow the boat to pass
through.

A
pair of ramshackle oars were lying inside the boat. A chain ran along the
tunnel wall, and they were able to use it with relative ease to maneuver the
small craft along the tunnel, leaving the oars untouched.

After
what seemed a considerable period of time, Sam checked his watch and was
surprised to discover that they had been aboard the little boat for more than
an hour.

The
air had changed.

It
had warmed significantly, and the draft he felt had increased.

“This
is really something, isn’t it?” Sam said.

“It’s
beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Aliana replied, the large dilated
pupils of her blue eyes displaying a reflection of the tiny glowworms as though
they were tiny stars.

It
made Sam feel as if he were on the most magical date of his life, rather than
fighting for a way to escape with his life intact, and from a woman whose
loyalties were at best, uncertain.

In
the back of his mind
,
he struggled with one thought,
How is she
involved in all of this?

As
they continued to float their way through the tunnel, the ambient light seemed
to intensify until the tunnel opened up into a gigantic underground cavern
containing a lake. More than a million glowworms covered the walls and ceiling,
illuminating the entire cavern, as though it were daylight inside.

In
the middle of the stilled water of the underground lake, he saw an enormous,
silver, structure.

Sam
found himself holding his breath involuntarily, as though the mere sound of
breathing, were enough to make the image disappear. In the middle of the
shallow lake, rested the serene remains of the Magdalena, in all her glory.

As
though she had floated inside the cavern, and then, the water had receded
,
leaving
her stuck in the middle of the shallow underground lake. The passenger compartment
of her gondola could still be seen
,
resting completely above the water.

“My
God,” Aliana said, staring wide-eyed at him in disbelief, “It’s the Magdalena!”