Beneath the surface it was an odd blurred gray. Large fish swam away from them, salmon, Nicholas thought.
They didn’t see Havelock’s submersible. They followed the radio signal on the side sonar buoy. Within five minutes, they were at the spit of land. They dropped deeper.
And there she was.
Victoria lay on her side, wedged under the wall of granite. She was in surprisingly good shape. They’d been hit and the captain had managed to limp his sub into the loch. Whether the captain had been able to wedge her under the shelf on purpose, or it was the serendipity of the tides and chance, they’d never know.
They swam closer, saw beds of mussels attached to her stern. They swam along the outside length of the sub to the bow and there it was, not a small torpedo hole, but a wide jagged opening, only minutes before blown apart so Havelock could fit through.
Nicholas set his DPD against the side of the sub, then signaled to Halpern to remain at the opening and carefully eased through the jagged tear. His torch was powerful, and it needed to be, he knew, because of all the silt Havelock had stirred up. He followed the ghostly light into the black interior. Fish swam past his face.
He found himself in a long narrow tube, divided into individual compartments. He concentrated on not becoming disoriented. He saw that the first hatch was open, and could make out ancient equipment through the veil of silt, strings of algae flowing off the edges of the sub’s walls and ceiling, waving like ghostly arms.
He swam slowly into the second compartment, through the fog of silt. He saw bits of human bodies, several long bones swaying in the dark water, three skulls loose, the empty eye sockets staring up at him through the torchlight. There was no way to know how many men had died on the sub because the thick beds of refuse and the blinding sediment hid so much. There had to be more than three, he knew, and he paused a moment to pray for these men entombed here for so long. And for the families these men had loved, who’d grieved and prayed.
Every man on the sub had known he was going to die, so they’d locked themselves in this chamber, all of them together in their final moments.
Nicholas slowly swung his torch around the space, and saw something glittering on the far wall. He swam closer, rubbed his gloved hand along the shiny spot. It was a single gold bar. He wiped away more silt. He saw not only one gold bar, he saw a wall of them, stacked from floor to ceiling, maybe six bars deep, shining faintly in the torch beam. He hung in the water, perfectly still, waiting for the water to clear, staring at the unbelievable sight. There was a king’s ransom of gold on this sub. Of course Havelock had known about the kaiser’s gold, but he’d been so focused on finding the key he hadn’t even noticed.
Nicholas swam toward the bow through several more compartments—a small mess hall, rusted pans, ceramic bowls and plates, still whole, and through sleeping quarters with only the wire and steel frames left, open rusted metal lockers.
He saw that the hatch to the bow compartment was smaller than the rest, with some sort of thick corroded rubber gasket around the edges. This hatch was closed.
He spun the wheel, and slowly pulled the hatch open.
Nicholas flashed his torch around the small room, no more than eight by ten feet. He saw a bunk in the corner, blankets floating off in the water, lanterns hanging over it, and a small table, all still intact.
He felt a punch of shock. On the bed was a body, floating inches above the disintegrating mattress, in much better shape than the skeletons scattered in the black waters behind him.
76
He realized this small compartment must have been completely sealed and airtight, dry for a hundred years, until Havelock had forced the hatch open. The body was mummified, almost perfectly preserved, wearing the uniform of a German naval Kapitänleutnant, the uniform cloth still a deep pure black.
But there was no mistaking the long, flowing hair. A woman. No woman should be aboard a sub, impossible, so what did this mean?
Her mummified body would soon be reduced to bones like the rest of the small crew. She hadn’t drowned, he realized, she’d starved to death, trapped in the ship’s womb, unable to get help for herself or her shipmates.
The names Alex Shepherd had said—Josef and Ansonia.
Had he found the Ansonia from Pearce’s files?
And suddenly, the bits and pieces from the Highest Order’s files started to make sense.
He floated in the water, staring at her, her body slowly rising, nearly to his outstretched hand now. He saw that her left hand was missing. Nicholas realized that as she lay dying, she’d held the key and Curie’s book in that hand and Havelock had snapped it right off.
He heard a tapping noise. It was Halpern. He looked down at his dive computer. Halpern was warning him. He’d started with sixty minutes of air and planned to spend only fifteen minutes in the sub, but that hadn’t happened. He’d spent too much time inside.
He swam slowly and carefully so as not to stir up more of the blinding silt, past the skulls, as he emerged out the enlarged torpedo hole. He felt suddenly like he’d been released from hell itself, and breathed deeply. He looked up, searching for fins and bubbles, but he didn’t see Halpern. Instead, he saw a white flash of metal, bearing down on him, four lights shining in his eyes, the water churning around it.
It was Havelock’s submersible. It looked straight out of a science fiction movie, like a giant metal bug, with three large portholes like eyes along the bottom.
Nicholas grabbed up his propulsion device to get away, but it was no match for Havelock’s submersible.
He saw the submersible had stopped. Had Havelock decided it wasn’t worth the time to try to run him down?
He prayed Halpern had escaped and he was already on his way to the surface to warn Mike. Nicholas knew he couldn’t get to Havelock down here, he had to get back up top. Suddenly the submersible shot past him, clipping his foot as it passed, knocking him around in a lazy circle.
Havelock had changed his mind. The submersible was turning to come at him again. He had to get to the surface now, but he couldn’t move. The submersible had shot off a net, trapping his legs.