Dead Men Don't Bite (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) (33 page)

High overhead, a blazing sun beat down from a
cloudless blue sky. And on board the power cruiser, Dillon
and Chapman were checking over their equipment one
more time.

“We’ll head straight for the rocks,” Chapman said,
pointing towards the cliffs, “and then move along the cliff
face until we find the tunnel entrance. But, I want you to
stick close to me. The current’s running between ten and
fifteen knots today, and believe me, you’ll know about it
when we get down there.”

Dillon sat on the dive platform with his feet dangling
in the water, pulled on his buoyancy jacket, and made sure
that his dive computer was switched on. There was a heavy
swell, making the boat pull against the anchor line, and
rhythmically roll and pitch with every wave.

Chapman came to the dive platform, and sat down
next to Dillon, who had pulled on his fins, and was rinsing
out his dive mask.

“This is going to be some roller coaster ride, you
know that, don’t you?”
“I’ve dived in worse waters than these, and have
lived to tell the tale. So, don’t you going worrying about
me, Rob. I can look after myself.”
At that moment, LJ shouted down from the flying
bridge, “Are you chaps ready to go yet?”
“Any minute now.” Dillon shouted back.
Chapman zipped up his buoyancy jacket, and stood
up. “We’ll stay at ten metres for this part of the dive, which
will gain us more time later.” He pulled on his mask, and
waited for the swell to rise high, took one step forward and
was instantly gone in a rush of bubbles. The water was so
clear that Dillon could easily mark his progress, as he swam
to the anchor line, and a moment later followed him.
LJ was on the flying bridge, peering through high
powered binoculars, for anything untoward on the cliff
tops and out to sea. Vince was standing beside him, his eyes
riveted to the small computer monitor that was hooked up
to the power cruiser’s satellite navigation system. Dillon
and Chapman were both wearing tracking devices, and it
was these, that were making the tiny blips on the screen.
“Is that them?” LJ said pointing to the two small
dots blinking on the screen.
“Yes, the one in front is Chapman. The other Dillon,
his blinks at a faster rate, so that we can tell who’s who.”
“Um, very appropriate.” LJ said, as he resumed his
watching. After five minutes, both Dillon and Chapman
surfaced, swam around to the dive platform, slipped off
their buoyancy jackets complete with air tanks, and climbed
aboard.
“Unbelievably clear water,” Dillon said. “We’ve
located the tunnel entrance, and no wonder that it’s never
been discovered before now. It’s a maelstrom down there,
like another world. What with the force of the current,
fissures, and large lumps of granite everywhere. And, it’s
as we thought it might be, the entrance has been partially
blocked by what looks like a recent landslide.”
“So what’s your next move?” LJ asked.
“We’re going to blow a way in, using the Semtex
at various points around the entrance, with a five minute
delay chemical detonator fuse.” Dillon replied, and then
added, “As long as we can dislodge some of those rocks
down there. It should give us an opening that’s large enough
to swim through with our air bottles on our backs.”
“Are you sure?” LJ said.
“Quite sure. And, as you’re fully aware, I’ve done
this many times before.” Dillon said firmly.
“Have you got everything you need, Jake?”
“Everything that I’m going to need, is in my dive
bag, Rob.”
“Okay, let’s get back down there then.”
Dillon was already being helped back into his
buoyancy jacket by Vince. Chapman handed him an
underwater spot light and kept one for himself.
“I’ll see you at the anchor line, and remember, Rob.
Once I’ve set that fuse, we’ll need to surface at once.”
Chapman nodded, and then followed Dillon a
moment later by waiting until the swell lifted, and then
stepped off the platform.

It was astonishingly clear and very blue near to the
surface. Dillon could see with ease Chapman descending to
the seabed. As he approached the anchor line, a number of
trigger fish moved past him and when he looked up there
was a large shoal of small silvery bib fish overhead.

The current was strong, so fierce that as Dillon
made his way down to the seabed, he was constantly being
buffeted sideways. Near the bottom, he paused for a brief
moment, and was instantly aware that he was drifting away
from Chapman. Dillon swam against the current to where
Chapman was checking his dive computer. Noting that they
were at fifty feet, Chapman gestured for Dillon to follow him
down into the great scar of the channel, where the seabed
was smooth with white sand. He led the way towards the
black granite rock face, and the tunnel entrance.

Dillon opened his dive bag, took out the Semtex
and handed the net containing the chemical detonators
to Chapman. They worked methodically, Dillon carefully
pressing the plastic explosive in place at strategic points
against the surface of the large fallen pieces of granite.
When he was satisfied that he’d used enough, Chapman
handed him the chemical detonating pencils. Dillon took
out four and gave the net back to Chapman, and then broke
the first one, pushing it into the Semtex. A second later, a
small spiral of bubbles started to rise, and Dillon quickly
broke the other three pencils, pushed them home, and gave
Chapman a thumbs up sign to indicate that he’d finished.

Dillon glanced at his dive computer. Four and a half
minutes, he gestured to Chapman to surface and then swam
up, and out of the channel, he went straight to the anchor
and slowly started up the line, holding on with one hand,
Chapman just behind him. At ten feet they left the line,
and moved under the hull to the rear of the power cruiser.
Dillon broke through to the surface; and immediately
checked his dive computer again. Two minutes and twenty
seconds. He threw his fins onto the deck, slipped out of
his buoyancy jacket and air tanks, and handed them up to
Vince. Chapman did the same, and then both men climbed
up on to the rear dive platform.

“What are you doing back up here. Haven’t you
broken through yet?” LJ demanded, from his vantage point
on the flying bridge.

Dillon looked at Chapman, and raised his eyebrows.
“His impatience is legendary, you know. And, I might add,
running true to form.” Dillon said, glancing down at the
Omega Sea Master on his wrist, and then looking up at LJ,
shouted, “You’d better hold on up there.”

But, before Dillon had a chance to speak. The four
charges at the tunnel entrance went off one after the other,
the explosions sending shock waves rippling up through the
water. The power cruiser pitched and rolled as the surface
of the sea lifted, spray scattering, foam appeared, moved
outwards in concentric circles over the increased swell.
They stood at the rail watching until the activity dwindled.

Dillon lit a cigarette, with the gold lighter that
Tatiana had given him for his last birthday.
“Malakoff, you can go to hell, wherever you are.”
“I’ll second that, Jake. But, he’s conspicuous by his
absence, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yeah, and a very good reason for us to watch our
backs.” Dillon replied, and then added, “That’s it then.
Let’s get moving.”
As they were getting their diving gear on again.
Chapman said, “What happens now? I mean when we’ve
got through the tunnel?”
“If luck is on our side, and Nathan Cunningham is
right. We’ll surface inside the cavern, and then be able to
go straight to the U-boat. If that is the case, then there’s no
problem. The conning tower should be out of the water,
and our way in fairly easy.” Dillon zipped up his buoyancy
jacket, and adjusted his weight belt.
“Nathan reported that the sub was completely
flooded. So, hopefully there shouldn’t be any silt build up,
and the water should be relatively clear in there.” Chapman
said, as he pulled on his fins.
Dillon stood at the edge of the dive platform. “If
at any time you think it’s too dangerous to proceed, for
whatever reason. Just signal me, and I’ll follow you back.”
Chapman was standing with his back to the
water, made the signal for, okay, by pinching his thumb
and forefinger together, and the next moment dropped
backwards into the water. Dillon followed him down to the
seabed, and as he approached the rock face, was instantly
aware of motion in the water, of the ice cold outflow, that
hadn’t been there before. Chapman hovered just to the
right of the newly created tunnel entrance, and when Dillon
joined him, he could actually feel the current pushing past
him. Chapman looked at Dillon, and shook his head. He
pointed up, and Dillon couldn’t accept that.
He turned to go into the tunnel, was aware of
Chapman’s restraining hand on his arm, briefly looked
round, and then managed to pull free and powered himself
through the small opening. Once inside, a cloak of darkness
wrapped itself around him in a claustrophobic embrace.
Dillon instinctively drew back against the smooth curved
granite stone, allowing the icy water to wash over him
for a few seconds. He switched on his lamp, and shone
the powerful beam around the interior of the tunnel. As
he swept the powerful light back and forth, it cast long
shadows over the black rock.
Dillon was staggered by the size of the tunnel. It
was just as Nathan had described it. At least thirty feet in
diameter, and as straight as an arrow, for as far as the torch
beam shone, and then into the darkness beyond. He was
about to go on, when Chapman appeared at his side with
two spare air tanks and a nylon guide line. He gave the
okay sign, and then tied one end of the line to one of the air
tanks, and the other to his weight belt. Wedged the air tank
between two large cobbles, and placed the other one on
top. When he’d finished, he tapped Dillon on the forearm,
and gave the signal to move off. Into the tunnel.
After two minutes, Dillon stopped and checked his
dive computer, they were still at a depth of fifty-five feet,
and had twenty minutes of air left. If Nathan Cunningham
was right, then they’d have another two and a half minutes
before reaching the other end of the tunnel. Glancing up, he
could just make out Chapman’s torch beam up ahead, as he
swam on into the darkness.
Dillon kicked off the bottom, silt swirled around,
making the black water even more murky. When he
eventually caught up with the archaeologist, he was just
disappearing through a narrow opening. Dillon shone his
lamp forward, could just make out Chapman’s fins, and
followed him through the opening between the fallen slabs
of granite.
Dillon slowly came up inside the enormous cavern.
As he broke the surface of the water, the powerful torch
beam cast long shadows that danced and flickered around
the interior of the subterranean hall. Chapman was treading
water about six feet away, he pulled his mask off, and spat
out his regulator.
“Have you ever seen anything quite so awesome in
your whole life?” He shouted. His voice sounded hollow as
it echoed around the cavern.
“No, never. Look at the size of those stalactites up
there.” Dillon swept his torch beam across the dripping
ceiling. “They’ve been growing for thousands of years.
What an amazing place.”
Chapman was slowly swimming across the deep and
tranquil lake. And the next moment, his torch beam picked
up the conning tower of U-683.
“Over here, Jake. I’ve found the sub.”
Dillon swam over, and joined the archaeologist, who
was holding onto a section of the bridge rail, that had been
forced and buckled down into the water.
Grabbing hold of it, Dillon said, “Look at the size of
this thing. And to think, it came through that tunnel to this
final place.” Dillon shone his torch up the side of the black
metal structure. As the beam swung across it, the U-boat’s
insignia appeared.
“Just like Nathan said. A leaping red devil.”
Chapman remarked.
Dillon took off his fins, and hooked them over the
end of the rail. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”
Chapman, followed him up the ladder to the top
of the conning tower. They held on to the bridge rail
beside the gun, and Dillon actually thought that he could
hear something, sounds coming from inside the boat. He
glanced at Chapman, and the archaeologist shook his head.
Dillon knew that he wasn’t happy about the desecration
of a war burial site, but he couldn’t accept that as a good
enough reason for not going on. He stepped over the rail,
and almost jumped clean out of his gear. He gasped as the
beam of white light, captured the almost perfect skeleton on
the other side of the confined deck area. On second glance,
Dillon noticed that part of the rib cage was shattered, and
that a long twisted piece of metal was all that was supporting
the skeleton in a sitting position.
Dillon moved to the hatch in the centre of the tower,
leaned over the edge, and shone his torch down into the
gloom of the main control room. As Nathan had reported,
it was completely flooded; and there was no way, that he
could go through the circular opening with air tanks on
his back. Unzipping his buoyancy jacket, he slipped it off,
complete with tanks, and lowered everything down into the
icy water inside the cramped interior.
It was dark in there, far murkier than he had
expected. He let go of the ladder rail, and as if in slow
motion stepped down into the water, got a firm foothold
and put the jacket back on, bit down on the regulator, and
gently went under. The light from his torch beam glinted
off of the glass faces of the gauges and dials, as he moved
around to get his bearings.
A moment later, he was half swimming, half pulling
himself through the control room to the forward hatch. On
reaching it, Dillon could see that it had been sealed off. The
watertight door appeared to be completely seized up. Dillon
looked around for something to use as a lever, saw at least
a dozen rifles scattered around in the sediment, and picked
up one of them off the deck.
He jiggled it, this way and that, barrel first, into
the wheel in the centre of the watertight hatch. Found a
foothold, and then putting his full weight behind it; pushed
as hard as he could. After two attempts, and no movement,
Dillon checked his dive computer, saw that his down-time
was diminishing quickly due to the increased exertion, and
decided to have one last try, before using a Semtex charge
to blow his way through.
On the third attempt, the metal wheel groaned, and
then begrudgingly moved a fraction. Dillon could hardly
contain his excitement, and put all of his strength behind
turning the wheel, first a quarter, then a half, and eventually
he heard a heavy clunk, as the mechanism released.
As the hatch burst open, the pressure of water in
the control room was instantly released. Dillon was forcibly
flushed through the narrow opening, in a gushing, foaming
maelstrom, and seconds later, found himself lying on the
grille of the walkway on the other side.
He pulled off his diving mask and spat out the air
regulator, and then stood up on the metal grille walkway.
Shining his torch back into the control room, he could see
Chapman descending the ladder from the conning tower
above. He waited while the archaeologist acclimatised
himself to the cramped environment of the U-boat. And
after a brief moment, he joined him in the walkway. Dillon
filled him in on what had just taken place when he’d opened
the hatch.
The two men stood next to each other, and were
both aware of a strange eerie noise as if some living creature
was groaning in pain, was also aware of the slight vibration
under their feet.
“Do you hear and feel that?” Chapman asked.
Dillon swung the powerful torch beam to and fro,
and then forward towards the main cargo hold area. “Yes,
the same sound that I heard when we first stood on the
deck of the conning tower. But the vibration only started a
moment ago. Any ideas?”
“Could just be the metal structure, expanding and
contracting. Or it could be the souls of the crew who lost
their lives on board this vessel, on that last day of the war.”
Chapman smiled ruefully, and then added. “Who knows,
but one thing’s for sure.”
“What’s that?” Dillon said.
“We shouldn’t be here, that’s what.”
“Well, it’s a bit late for that, Rob. And now that we
are here, let’s not be thinking about all that crap. After all,
we’re only here for the spear, and to see if there really is
any gold bullion on board.” Dillon unzipped his buoyancy
jacket, slipped it off, and leant it, complete with air tanks,
up against the bulkhead.
“And what if there is?” Chapman asked.
“If there is, then we’ll have to devise a way of getting
it safely back up to the surface. Won’t we?” Dillon said,
matter of factly, as he started off up the walkway.
He pointed the torch beam into the radio and sound
room on his right as he went past. The Korvetenkapitan’s
quarters were directly opposite on the left side of the
walkway, and only the skeletal remains of any furniture
were left after so many years.
A few yards on, and he was standing in front of the
sealed hatchway that led to the cargo hold. Dillon looked at
the metal wheel in the centre of the hatch with trepidation,
and briefly thought about what they might find behind it.
Chapman broke Dillon’s momentary spell, by
pushing past him, and grabbing hold of the wheel with
both hands and heaving it around. This time there was no
resistance, and it spun easily. There was a clunk, and the
next second the mechanism released.
They stood on the walkway, in water up to their
ankles, before pushing the hatch open.
Dillon splayed the beam of the torch around and
immediately saw it in the centre of the room. A metal
chest on a raised platform, partly covered with the tattered
remnants of a silk shroud. And, although a large portion
of this had decayed over the years, the majority of the red
swastika was still discernible.
With Chapman following just behind, Dillon made
straight for the chest. He swept the shroud off in one easy
movement. The metal was coated in thick black soot, and he
ran a hand across it, silver gleamed dully. Chapman looked
on as Dillon unclipped the two catches located on either
side, and then slowly lifted the lid to reveal what was inside.
“Is it the real thing?” Dillon asked.
“Who knows, certainly looks like it. But there are
so many copies of the spear in existence that it’s hard to
tell at first glance. But, we’ll leave that part to the experts.”
Chapman’s voice had become edgy, and Dillon thought that
he could detect a hint of nervousness as well.
Ignoring this, Dillon closed the chest, secured the
catches, and placed it inside a large dive net, which would
make it easier to carry.
“Disappointing, there doesn’t appear to be anything
in here that could hold gold bars. But let’s take a look round
anyway, just in case.” Dillon said.
Both men heard the sound, and felt the vibration
running through the boat. But, this time both were much
stronger than before, and appeared to come from outside
of the U-boat, from somewhere in the cavern.
“What the hell was that?” Dillon yelled.
“Damn, I should have thought of it before.”
Chapman was studying his dive computer.
“What?”
“It’s the tide, it’s turning. And those weird sounds,
that’s the water being forced up through the fissures in the
granite. I’d say that we don’t have much time left.”
Dillon moved quickly around the darkened room,
the torch beam throwing shadows that danced and flickered
over the dripping metal structure.
“Rob, come and look over here, I’ve found
something.” Dillon was at the other end of the cargo hold,
crouching down next to a stack of wooden ammunition
crates. The Nazi crest and swastika branded into every lid.
“There must be at least forty of these in here.”
“How come we missed them before? I mean, when
we first entered the hold.”
“They were covered with that tarpaulin.” Dillon
said pointing his torch beam to the large discarded sheet
crumpled in the corner. “As you can see, what with it being
black, and covered in grime. Well, it’s not surprising that
this end of the hold is almost invisible at first glance. Or
perhaps that was the intention?” Dillon bent down and
tried lifting the lid on the nearest crate. When it wouldn’t
budge, he looked up and said, “Come on, give me a hand to
get one or two of these lids off.”
Chapman, used his diving knife to pry the wooden
planking away. Dillon did the same, and in no time the lids
of two of the crates had been removed. Inside they found
heavy muslin gauze lying on the top, Dillon peeled it back
to reveal what was underneath.
“Holy shit, that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever
set eyes on.” Chapman exclaimed in a rush of excited words.
“Yes, it is rather divine, isn’t it?” Dillon picked up
one of the heavy gold bars, and held it up to the torch light.
“And to think that there’s forty cases in here, full of these
little beauties.”