“In addition to electronic copies of the torn-out pages from Napoleon’s Diary, we also found an interesting letter on ShadowFoe’s computer,” Juan said. “Remember Pierre Delacroix?”
“You mean the naval lieutenant who wrote about kidnapping Napoleon from St. Helena?”
“That’s him. Antonovich never told us about a second letter Delacroix had written.”
He took a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to Gretchen.
“It was addressed to a wealthy businessman named Jacques Aubuchon, although we don’t know if the letter actually made it to him. Aubuchon, apparently, funded the operation to kidnap Napoleon in the hopes of finding the treasure he stole from Moscow.”
She unfolded the printout and began to read.
Dear Monsier Aubuchon,
It is with great despair that I must inform you that our venture has failed. The treasure that you seek shall remain unearthed, for the emperor has betrayed us.
He led us to believe the riches he took from Moscow were taken by sea to Bornholm Island. As an ally of France, Denmark and its territories would have served as a possible hiding place for the immense cache of valuables, so we had no reason to doubt his guidance.
He took us to a marine cave on the southern side of the island where he claimed the treasure was secreted. Using the Stingray submarine, which you so generously provided us funds to build, we infiltrated the cavern. But when we reached the interior, we found nothing but bare rock.
It was then that I discovered the emperor had convinced several of the crew to mutiny against me and join his cause. It was only through the aid of my most trusted officers that we managed to swim out of the cave during a battle that caused many casualties on both sides.
Whether the emperor survived the battle, I do not know. But because you instructed that there be no evidence of the abduction from St. Helena, I ordered our cannons be used to cause an avalanche and seal the cavern behind me with the emperor still inside. I trust that you will burn this letter upon receipt and destroy the only remaining proof of his escape from exile.
According to your desire upon the outset of this mission, my failure means that I will make no further contact with you.
Faithfully yours,
Lieutenant Pierre Delacroix
Gretchen looked up from the letter in astonishment, first at Juan, then at the island next to them. He followed her gaze to a small outcropping of jumbled rocks near sea level. Several of them had been pushed aside to create an opening.
“Come on,” Juan said. “I want to show you something.”
He took her down to the boat garage, where he helped her into the RHIB. It took only a few minutes to motor over to the shore.
Several days of work had allowed the Oregon crew to carve out an entrance and clear a smooth path that Gretchen could navigate with her cane. Juan switched on a generator and light shined from within the previously dark opening in the cliff.
Juan took her hand and guided her inside. He watched her face as she entered the spacious cavern, which was well lit by powerful lamps. Just as Delacroix had described, it was a featureless chamber, smoothed by centuries of erosion by the sea. Half of the cave’s lower portion consisted of an uneven stone floor, while the other half had sunk below sea level, creating a natural inlet, before the opening was sealed by the falling rocks.
Gretchen gasped when she saw a strange-loo
king submarine beached on the rocky platform. Its bright copper cladding had transformed into a green patina, but otherwise the vessel was completely intact.
“We think it sailed in during an unusually high tide,” Juan said. “When the cave was sealed by the avalanche, the water might have seeped out or evaporated over the next two hundred years.”
As they ventured farther inside, they stepped around several skeletons. Little was left of the skeletons’ clothing except brass buttons and belt buckles.
“These had to be the crewmen who mutinied or the officers who fought against them. We’ve found bullet wounds and sword injuries on the bones.”
“This is incredible. What are you going to do about this discovery?”
“We haven’t decided yet, but we’ll probably let the Danish and French governments duke it out. It should be another epic battle, not only for the sub itself but because of what’s inside. We’ve spent hours debating why we found it this way, with the hatch closed, but I’m not convinced which theory is right. I’ll let the archaeologists figure out that one.”
Scaffolding had been constructed next to the sub. With Juan’s assistance, Gretchen managed to climb up until she could see inside the conning tower’s window.
Since the sub’s hatch was still closed, the air inside remained undisturbed. Juan shined a flashlight through the window so she could get a better look.
“Good Lord,” Gretchen whispered with reverent awe.