Nighthawk (NUMA Files 14) - Page 83

Kurt looked up; they were nearing the waterfall. The force of the drop and the outflow of water had carved a deeper pool at this end as the current scoured away the sediment and deposited it farther out in the lake.

“You see?” Urco said, pointing to squared-off sections of the screen. “Streets, avenues, buildings—it’s a city. A drowned city.”

Kurt wasn’t so sure. He’d seen rock formations that looked man-made before. The Bimini Road off the Bahamas came to mind, as did the Yonaguni ruins near Japan, a place that many thought was a submerged temple complex even though geologists insisted it was nothing more than a formation of stratified granite.

He chose not to burst Urco’s bubble, at the moment. “We’ll have to dive on it to get a better look,” Kurt said. “But I won’t deny it’s plenty interesting.”

Urco grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him with appreciation. “You won’t be disappointed.”

By now, they’d come close enough to the waterfall that the overspray was drifting across them. Kurt wiped the screen of the laptop and covered the keyboard.

He glanced at Joe. “Nothing on this pass. Take us back around.”

Joe nodded and turned the wheel. But instead of turning in front of the falls, he guided them in behind it. Because of the overhang of rock high above and the speed with which the water was traveling when it flew off the edge, there was a thirty-foot gap at the bottom.

The Zodiac cruised into that gap and sped between the curtain of water and the cliffside. The rock wall was dark and wet and pockmarked with caves.

“More burial chambers,” Urco said, pointing. “I would like it if they remain undisturbed.”

Kurt studied the dark caverns as they sped past. “Understood,” he said.

The next leg took them down the middle of the lake. They hadn’t gone far when Emma held up a hand. “Slow down,” she said. “I’m picking up something.”

Joe cut the throttle back, the boat settled and all eyes fell upon Emma.

“Ten degrees to the right,” she requested.

Paul turned the lever and stopped.

“Ten more?” she asked, and then, when he’d done that, added, “Back five.”

Emma held both hands against the headphones, pressing them to her ears. She looked out over the water and pointed. “That way. Slowly.”

Joe nudged the throttle and the Zodiac moved forward at a speed just above idle. At Emma’s direction, they made a wide circle and then a narrower one, homing in on the signal.

Finally, Emma held up her hand once more and Joe brought the Zodiac to a stop.

As the boat settled, Emma pulled the headphone jack out of the receiver so everyone could hear the signal . . . Beep . . . Beep . . . Beep . . . Steady and low.

“It’s here,” she said, a wave of relief washing over her face. “The Nighthawk is here.”

35

With their dive gear on, Emma slipped into the water with Kurt and Joe. They would make the first dive together, though once the Nighthawk was physically located, Joe would dry off and prep the Air-Crane for the big lift.

As she descended into the water, Emma noticed the chill in her bones. The water came mostly from snowmelt and the temperature was a frigid fifty degrees. Even wearing heavy, 3:5 wet suits with attached hoods, full-face helmets, boots and gloves, it could be felt.

While the cold was something planned for, dealt with and otherwise ignored, the visibility was a different problem. The water was full of floating sediment stirred up by the waterfall and decomposing plant matter washed down from higher elevations. There was perhaps ten feet of visibility and, at thirty feet, even powerful lights looked as if they were nothing more than glowing candles.

Emma used a light meter to check the incoming energy from the sun. “This isn’t good,” she announced over the helmet-to-helmet communications system. “With the water so murky, the system will be charging at fifteen percent efficiency. That won’t do much for the batteries. The sooner we raise it, the better.”

“We have to find it first,” Joe said. “Which wouldn’t be too difficult, except we’re looking for a black aircraft, sitting at the bottom of a black lake.”

They were kicking lazily and descending slowly.

“The upper surface of the wing has a reflective strip built into it,” Emma said. “Hit that with your light and you’ll have no problem spotting it.”

The lake was eighty feet deep in the center and at least seventy feet beneath the Zodiac. Emma was two-thirds of the way down before the beam of her diving light reached out and found the bottom.

Tags: Clive Cussler NUMA Files Thriller
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