Haider played his last card. "I must insist the police dive team be the first to enter the chamber."
"Fine by us." Giordino bowed and gestured toward the dark water. "Maybe if one of your deputies is lucky enough to make it in and back, we'll find out what's eating people in that hell hole down there."
"I've lost four of my men." Reinhardt spoke solemnly. "They may be dead. You cannot allow more men to die through ignorance of the unknown."
"They are professional divers," Haider retorted.
"So are the men I sent in there. The finest divers in the Navy, in superior condition and more extensively trained than the police rescue team."
"May I suggest a compromise," said Pitt.
Haider nodded. "I'm willing to listen."
"We put together a seven-man probe team. The three of us because Mancuso here is a mining engineer, an expert on tunnel construction and excavation, while Al and I are experienced in underwater salvage. Two of Lieutenant Reinhardt's Navy men, since they're trained in defusing any demolitions we might encounter. And two of the police divers as rescue and medical backup."
Haider stared into Pitt's eyes and saw only grim tenacity. It was a solid proposal fortified with logic.
He forced a smile. "Who goes in first?"
"I do," Pitt said without hesitation.
His two short words seemed to echo in the cavern for long seconds, and then the tension suddenly evaporated and Haider stuck out his hand.
"As you wish." He shook Pitt's hand and puffed out his chest to regain an image of authoritative dignity. "But I hold you responsible, Herr Pitt, if you trip any explosive devices and destroy the artworks."
Pitt gave Haider a contemptuous grin. "In that case, Herr Haider, you may have my head-- literally."
Pitt set the time on the microelectronic computer attached by a line to his air tank and made a final check of his regulator and buoyancy compensator. For the fiftieth time since dropping down the ladder from farmer Clausen's field
he stared into the beckoning black pool.
"Your gears are turning," observed Giordino as he adjusted the straps to his tank pack.
Pitt rubbed his chin thoughtfully without replying.
"What do you think is going on in there?" asked Mancuso.
"I think I've solved half the puzzle," answered Pitt. "But the cutting of the lines? Now that's downright puzzling."
"How's your acoustic speaker?" asked Mancuso.
Pitt inserted the regulator's mouthpiece and spoke into it. "Mary had a little lamb. . ." The words came out muffled but understandable.
"I guess it's time, fearless leader," grunted Giordino.
Pitt nodded at Reinhardt, who was accompanied by one of his men. "Ready, gentlemen? Please try to stay within two meters of the man in front of you. Visibility appears to be four meters, so you should have no trouble keeping the distance. My team will communicate with you through our acoustic speakers."
Reinhardt acknowledged with a wave and turned, relaying instructions in German to the police divers behind him. Then he threw a brief military salute to Pitt. "After you, sir."
There was no delaying it any longer. Pitt held out both hands at arm's length, index fingers pointing outward. "I'll take the center point. Frank, two meters behind and to my left. Al, you take the right. Keep a sharp watch on any unusual mechanisms sticking out of the walls."
With nothing more to be said, Pitt switched on his dive light, gave a tug on his safety line to make sure it was clipped, and launched himself facedown into the water. He floated for a moment, and then very slowly ducked his head and dove toward the bottom, his dive light held ahead of him.
The water was cold. He glanced at the digital readout of the computer. The water temperature stood at 14 degrees Celsius or 57 degrees Fahrenheit. The concrete bottom was covered with green slime and a thin layer of silt. He was careful not to drag his fins or kick them into the sediment, raising clouds that would block the vision of the men behind.
Pitt actually enjoyed it. Once again he was a man totally at home in his own element. He aimed the dive light upward and stared at the ceiling of the bunker. It had sloped downward, becoming fully submerged and narrowing into a tunnel as expected. The water along the bottom was murky, and the particles that floated past his mask dropped the visibility down to three meters. He stopped and advised the men behind to close up a bit. Then he continued, swimming easily and smoothly as the ghostly outline of the floor gradually dropped until it leveled out and became swallowed by the dark.
After covering another twenty meters, he paused again and hung suspended for a minute while he twisted around and looked for Giordino and Mancuso. They were only shadowy figures behind the dull glow of their lights, but they faithfully held their instructed positions. He checked his computer. The pressure readout indicated a depth of only six meters.