Odessa Sea (Dirk Pitt 24)

“What’s the date, Charles?” Perlmutter asked.

Trehorne examined the header, then looked up with raised brows. “March second, 1917.”

The room fell silent until Summer whispered, “That’s after the scheduled rendezvous with the Pelikan.”

“The same day they took on the shipment of Lee–Enfield rifles,” Perlmutter said. “Unloaded one cargo and took on another, perhaps?”

“The letter indicated the storage was only temporary,” Dirk said. “Was there any indication of its subsequent movement?”

“None that I could find,” Hawker said.

“With chaos in St. Petersburg and the abdication of Nicholas in the works, the treaty may have been deemed void and the gold returned to the provisional government,” Perlmutter said.

“Perhaps,” Dirk said, “but Mansfield’s actions suggest the Russians have no record of its return. Major Hawker, what do you make of this AEB Nelson storage reference?”

Hawker’s eyes lit up. “I was quite excited by the reference. You see, the Rock of Gibraltar is a rather fascinating mount. Aside from dozens of natural caves, the Rock is riddled with over thirty miles of tunnels built over the centuries. Some date to the 1700s, but most were built in the last century to supplement the local fortifications. I must profess to being something of a tunnel rat myself, and the reference to Nelson scratched at my memory. I pulled some of the early tunnel plans and, sure enough, there was a tunnel line named Nelson built in the 1880s, when some of the first big artillery guns were hoisted up the Rock. But I couldn’t find any references to a storage area or bunker named Nelson or the letters AEB, although they could indicate an auxiliary excavation boring.”

“What’s the status of the tunnel today?” Dirk asked.

“The Nelson tunnel and its surrounding arteries were closed off in 1920 due to a cave-in. It has been an abandoned area ever since, closed to access due to its perceived danger.”

“Could we get in for a look?” Summer asked.

“The Gibraltar tunnels are administered by the Ministry of Defence.” He gave Summer a wink. “Which means you came to the right place.”

Summer noticed that Hawker had a large chart above his desk depicting the tunnels inside the Rock.

He pointed to an area on the north side of the mount. “I’ve studied the neighboring passages and believe the Nelson area can be reached, if there have been no additional

cave-ins.” He looked up and smiled. “But you will need a military guide.”

“Can you take us in?” she asked.

“Meet me at Princess Anne’s Battery at eight o’clock sharp tomorrow and we’ll see what we can find.” He looked at the sandals on Summer’s feet. “I would strongly advise wearing sturdy footwear.”

She smiled. “I’ll wear snow boots, if I have to.”

She had a spring in her step as they returned to their waiting cab. “Do you think there’s a chance it’s still there?” she asked the others.

“Only one way to find out,” Perlmutter said. “You remember what we found in Cuba.”

As they exited the base, their taxi drove past a sedan parked outside the entrance that immediately started its engine. In the passenger seat, Viktor Mansfield sat with a small parabolic listening device in his lap. He yanked off its earphones as Martina began following the cab.

“Anything?” she asked.

“No, not a thing.” He tossed the gadget to the floorboard.

“This is not London, I’m afraid,” she said. “We have few resources here.”

He shook his head. “Then there’s nothing to be done but follow them.”

75

A half-moon cast a shimmering glow on the calm water, providing more than a mile of visibility. For secrecy’s sake, Ilya Vasko would have much preferred a downpour, but the clear night would make his job easier.

From the aft deck of a blue tugboat named the Lauren Belle, he watched as an overloaded container ship passed on its way to Baltimore with a cargo of German autos. With the Lauren Belle anchored near the shoreline of Cape Charles, Virginia, Vasko took keen interest in the ships entering the nearby mouth of the Chesapeake Bay. Through binoculars, he studied each approaching vessel, gauging its size and, most important, if it was towing a barge.

It had been only a few hours since he had touched down in Hendriks’s private jet at Newport News International Airport across the bay. The Dutchman had proved proficient once more, arranging a leased tug and barge that awaited him at the waterfront. Even the boat’s four-man Ukrainian crew seemed a hardened mix of trustworthy mercenaries.