The Mediterranean Caper (Dirk Pitt 2)

Giordino nodded. “As the boys in Washington said, ‘no recorded documents of sunken treasure’.”

The talk over treasure brought an alert gleam in Lewis’ eyes. “What about ancient Greek or Roman vessels?” Most records wouldn’t go back that far.”

“That’s true,” said Giordino. “But, as Dirk previously pointed out, Thasos is a long way off the beaten’ shipping paths. The same holds true for the trade routes of antiquity.”

“But if there is a fortune under our feet,” Lewis persisted, “and von Till found it, he’d most certainly keep it a secret.”

“‘There’s no law against finding sunken treasure.”

Giordino exhaled two streams of smoke through his nose. “Why bother to hide it?”

“Greed,” said Pitt. “Insane greed; wanting one hundred percent, refusing to share with others or having to pay the government under which the riches were found any taxes or assessments.”

“Considering the huge cut most governments demand,” Lewis said angrily, “I can’t say as I’d blame von Till for keeping the discovery a secret.”

The cabin boy came and went, Leaving three more

bottles of beer. Giordino downed his ‘with one tilt of the head and then dropped the empty bottle beside its mate

in the wastebasket “‘This whole game is like a bad deal,” he complained. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either,” Pitt said quietly. “Every logical avenue winds up in a cul-de-sac. Even this talk about treasure is meaningless. I tried to bait von Till into admitting he was after treasure, but the wily old bastard offered no indication of interest. He’s trying to hide something, but it’s not sunken gold bullion or lost diamonds.” He broke off and pointed out a porthole across the sea where Thasos slept under the rising heat waves. “The solution lies elsewhere, either near the island, or on it, or maybe, both. We’ll soon know more when Gunn raises the Albatros and its occupant.”

Giordino, both hands clasped behind his head, leaned his chair back on two legs. “By all rights, we could leave now and be back in Washington this time tomorrow. Since the mysterious renegade plane is destroyed, and we know who instigated the accidents on board the First Attempt, things should settle back to normal. I see no reason why we can’t pack up and head for home.” He threw Lewis an indifferent look. “I’m certain the Colonel can handle any further emergencies that might crop up on Brady Field.”

“You can’t leave now!” Lewis was sweating heavily, his breath in gasps, barely controlling his temper. “I’ll contact Admiral Sandecker and have. . . “

“Don’t worry, Colonel,” Gunn interrupted from the doorway. He had pushed the cabin door open silently and now stood leaning against the bulkhead.

“Major Pitt and Captain Giordino won’t be leaving Thasos just yet.”

Pitt looked up quickly, expectantly. There was no elated expression on Gunn’s face, it merely reflected a mixture of blank nothingness and dejection. It was the face of a man who ceased to care. The small bone structure showed through the shoulders, drooped from exhaustion, and the skin glistened with drops of salt water that dung to the body hair in tiny droplets. He wore nothing but the ever present horn-rimmed glasses and a:

European style black bikini that did little to enhance the slender frame it covered. Four straight hours of diving had left Gunn exhausted, every bone, every muscle begging for relief.

“Sorry Sir,” Gunn mumbled softly. “Bad news I’m afraid?

“For God’s sake, Rudi,” Pitt asked, “What is it? Weren’t you able to raise the plane and recover the pilot’s body?”

“Gunn shrugged his thin shoulders. “Neither.”

“As bad as that?” Pitt queried, voice and face deadly serious.

“Worse,” Gunn replied grimly.

“Let’s have it.”

For almost thirty seconds, Gunn remained silent The others in the cabin could hear the faint creaking noises of the ship, rolling in the gentle swells of the Mediterranean, and see the tightening of Gunn’s mouth.

“Believe me, we tried,” Gunn said wearily. “We used every underwater search trick in the book, but we, couldn’t locate the wreck.” He gestured helplessly with his bands. “It was gone, vanished, God knows where.”’

10

“The Thasians were great lovers of the theatre, considering it a vital part of their education, and everyone, including the town beggar, was encouraged to come. In the ancient city of Thasos, during the premieres of new dramas from the mainland, all shops were closed, all business ceased and prisoners were released from jail Even the city’s whores, barred from most public events, were allowed to practice their trade in the shrubbery by the theatre gateways without fear of legal harassment.”

The swarthy Greek National Tourist Organization guide paused his spiel, curling his lip in a pleased grin at the horrified expressions on the faces of the female tourists. It was always the same, he thought The women whispering in put-on embarrassment while the men, draped in Bermuda shorts and festooned with light meters and cameras, guffawed and poked each other’s ribs in unison with know-it-all winks.

The guide twisted the end of his magnificent moustache and studied his group more closely. There was the usual sprinkling of fat retired businessmen and their fat wives, viewing the ruins, not for historical interest but rather to impress their friends and neighbors at home. His eyes wandered over four young school teachers from Alhambra, California. Three were plain looking, wore glasses and giggled constantly. It was the fourth girl who attracted his attention. Excellent possibilities. Large protruding breasts, red hair, long legs— like most Americans—and quite shapely. The kind of eyes that flirt and suggest better things to come. Later tonight he would invite her on a private moonlight tour of the ruins.