Lost City (NUMA Files 5)

"Yes, we could seal off some tunnels and pump the water out eventually, but it would take days," came the devastating reply.

Austin indicated the glowing screen in front of them. "Even with this extensive network of tunnels?"

"I'll show you what the problem is."

Lessard led the way out of the control room and they walked along a tunnel for several minutes. The omnipresent hum of the turbine was overpowered by another sound like a strong wind blowing through the trees. They climbed a flight of metal stairs on the other side of a steel door to an observation platform protected by a watertight plastic-and-metal canopy. Lessard explained that they were in one of several off-site control rooms. The rushing noise had become a roar.

Lessard flicked a wall switch and a floodlight illuminated a section of tunnel where a torrent raged. The foaming water level almost reached the observation bubble. Austin stared at the white water, sensing its vast power.

"This time of year water melts from huge pockets in the ice," Lessard shouted over the racket. "They add to the normal flow. It's like the floods you get in swollen rivers when the mountain snow melts too quickly in the spring." Lessard had a pained expression on his narrow face. "I'm sorry we can't help you or the people trapped inside."

"You've helped me a great deal already, but I'll need to see a detailed diagram of the research tunnel."

"Of course." As Lessard led the way back to the control room, he

decided he liked this American. Austin was thorough and methodical, qualities Lessard prized above all others.

Back in the main nerve center, Austin glanced at the wall clock and saw that precious minutes had gone by since the tour began. Lessard went over to a metal cabinet, slid open a wide shallow drawer and pulled out a set of blueprints.

"Here is the main entrance to the research tunnel. It's not much more than a culvert. These rectangles are the living quarters for the scientists. The lab is about a mile from the main entrance. As you can see in this side view, there are stairs that run up through the ceiling to another level, where there is a passage that leads to the subglacial observatory itself."

"Do we know how many people could be trapped?"

"There were three in the scientific team most recently. Sometimes, when they get sick of being underground, we get together to drink a few glasses of wine. Then there is the woman from your ship. A float plane brought some people in before the accident, but I don't know how many it had aboard when it took off a short while ago."

Austin leaned over the diagram, his eyes taking in every detail. "Suppose the people under the glacier made it to the observatory. The air trapped in this passageway would keep the water from inundating the observatory area."

"That's true," Lessard said with little enthusiasm.

"If there is air, they could still be alive."

"Also true, but their supply of air is limited. This may be a case of the living envying the dead."

Austin didn't have to be reminded of the gruesome fate that awaited Skye and the others. Even if they had survived the flood, they faced a slow and uneasy death from lack of oxygen. He concentrated on the diagram and noticed that the main tunnel continued on for some distance beyond the observatory. "Where does this go?"

"It continues about 1.5 kilometers, rising gradually to another entrance."

"Another culvert?"

"No. There is an opening like a mine entrance in the side of the mountain."

"I'd like to see it," Austin said. A plan was forming in his mind. It was based on conjecture and assumption, and would need a healthy dose of luck to work, but it was all he had.

"It's on the other side of the glacier. The only way to get to it is by air, but I can show you where it is from here."

Minutes later, they were on the flat roof of the power plant. Lessard pointed to a ravine on the far side of the glacier. "It's right near that little valley."

Austin followed the pointing finger with his eyes, and then glanced toward the sky. A big helicopter was lumbering toward the power plant.

"Thank God!" Lessard said. "At last, someone has answered my call for help."

Hurrying downstairs, the two men emerged from the power plant as the helicopter dropped out of the sky. The truck driver and another man Austin assumed to be the plant's third shift were outside, watching the helicopter touch down on a landing pad a few hundred feet from the plant's front door. As the rotors whirled to a halt, three men emerged from the chopper. Austin frowned. This was no rescue party. All three men were wearing dark suits that had middle management written all over them.

"It is my superior, Monsieur Drouet. He never comes here," Lessard said, unable to contain the awe in his voice.

Drouet was a portly man with a Hercule Poirot mustache. He hustled over and in an accusatory tone said, "What is going on, Lessard?"

While the plant supervisor explained the situation, Austin checked his watch. The hands seemed to be flying around the dial.