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Authors: Julian Noyce

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BOOK: Tomb of the Lost
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The video briefly showed the bridge.


They have all the modern communications devices,

Tom said.

Abruptly the video ended.


That

s about it,

Dennis told them,

I closed the phone when I heard footsteps and your message came through Natalie and alerted them.


They beat you up?

Hutchinson asked.


No they were with a another man. I

m sure he

s a Russian. Danilov, did you say Tom?

Tom nodded and read the card again.


Sergei Danilov.


He held a knife to my throat and called for, presumably, his boss. I don

t know.

Dennis finished his coffee before continuing.


Then a man in a white suit interrogated me. Right there on the dock. I thought they may have taken me inside their ship but they didn

t. He just spoke to me, checked your wallet and phone Tom which he obviously thought was mine. I told him I was a ship nut.

Hutchinson looked puzzled.


You know. Like a bus nut or train nut. Someone who

s interested in ships. I thought it was funny but he didn

t. Then they marched me out of the gate and this Danilov hit me in the stomach and I tell you what. It

s the hardest I

ve ever been punched and I

m not ashamed to admit it. I mean if we

re up against them I don

t know who is going to take him on.


Well let

s take a look shall we,

Tom said entering the name into a search engine.


I doubt very much

.

Hutchinson began.


Found him,

Tom said.

They all looked, startled, at the screen.


Sergei Danilov,

Tom said. He double clicked on an image and brought the Jpeg up to full size. It showed a bald headed man with sharp features.


Is that him?

Tom asked, turning the laptop towards Dennis.


It was dark but I think so.


Sergei Danilov,

Tom began reading,

Born 9
th
October, 1970 0r 71, Chernobyl, Russia. Father, postmaster, mother a textile factory worker. Spouse, if any, unknown. Became a lieutenant in the army. Fought in Afghanistan. Lost two fingers on his right hand when a member of his squad trod on a landmine. By the time of the Iraq invasion of 2003 he was a Major with Spetsnaz, Russian special ops working with coalition forces. Wanted by the FBI and CIA for questioning following the suspicious death of a U.S. marine killed in Baghdad and the deaths of four Iraqi civilians. Also wanted by the British for a bungled mission that left three SAS dead in Basra. Is a suspected mercenary and has a price of $500,000 U.S. on his head.

Tom looked up from the laptop.


He

s not a very nice man.


The question is? What is he doing here in Tunisia on board a research vessel?


There

s something else,

Dennis added,

The man in the white suit.

They all looked at him.


There

s something familiar about him.


You

ve met him before?

Natalie asked.


No I don

t think so. I just feel that I know him.

Hutchinson stood up to his full height.


I think Captain Ali that it

s time we alerted the Tunisian navy of our unfriendly visitor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

 

The divers entered the water in pairs as usual. Peter Dennis

ribs were still too sore following the punch he

d received. A doctor in Gabes had yesterday diagnosed the possibility that his ribs were probably cracked, possibly broken. He had wanted to send Dennis to a hospital in Tunis for x-rays but Dennis had refused due to the lack of time the team could afford. He had been prescribed with strong painkillers and had been told to stay out of the water until at least the bruising had gone. Dennis was furious. He knew it would be at least a week. This morning he had tried to convince them that he was fit enough and after an argument with Natalie Hutchinson had invited him to suit up.

On his own.

Without help.

Dennis had put on a show of bravado, for their benefit mainly, but as he

d swung the oxygen tank over his shoulder to put it onto his back the pain from his ribs had made him gasp and he

d dropped it.


You

re not fit enough,

Natalie had said.


No I just didn

t have the right grip that

s all.


Nice try,

Natalie said.

Finally Hutchinson had ruled against the journalist and a dejected Peter Dennis watched once again as the diving team disappeared beneath the waves. Natalie pairing with one of the ship

s crew.

The dive was for a little known wreck. The

Volante

had it marked on the chart only as a question mark. At one hundred and seventy feet the divers found the seabed. At first the team found it dark but after a while their eyes became adjusted. The water at this depth appeared deep blue. Starfish crawled along the sea floor. Apart from them it appeared to be devoid of life.

Above on the ship Peter Dennis, Jim Hutchinson and the Captain watched the monitors. The one they were most interested in showed an ordnance survey style mapping of the seabed. At the edge of the screen the lines ran out.


That is deep ocean, just there,

Ali said,

Now, the wreck the divers are going to be working on is sitting, sort of perched on a rocky outcrop. Little is known about it. It hangs over very deep water.


How deep?

Hutchinson and Dennis asked at the same time.


It is believed to be over six hundred feet. No one has ever bothered to investigate it because it is considered to not be of interest or importance. The Tunisian navy and of course merchant shipping are aware of its position so they avoid it but apart from them I don

t know that its ever been touched, certainly not by treasure seekers.


Can you bring up any more information on any of the monitors?


Information?


Can you improve any of the images? Get us closer.


I

ll try, Ali said.

He began clicking with a mouse and typed some key words in on a keyboard. It brought the graph up larger on the screen. Hutchinson leaned in closer.


The distortion you can see is the shipwreck itself.

He could see the outlines of what appeared to be a sunken ship. It looked to be big.


This has to be it,

he said to the screen.

Dennis typed

Tangipito

into the laptop and brought up the one known image of the freighter on a search engine. He moved the laptop next to the monitor. They all studied the contours. There were similarities.


You know,

Hutchinson said,

Some years ago Turkish fighter jets flew over mount Ararat and photographed what appeared to be a massive boat like shape on the mountain

s slopes.

Ali nodded.


They now think that is the resting place of Noah

s ark from the bible.

Dennis looked at them both.


Now that would make a story.

Hutchinson was about to tell them to stick to the matter iin hand when the radio crackled and a female voice cut in.


Jim I think we

ve found something.

Hutchinson picked up the headset and spoke into the microphone.


Hutchinson here. What have you found Natalie?


At first guess George thinks it

s a freighter.

The excitement on the

Volante

bridge quickened.


Are you able to read a name?


No there

s too much gunk and stuff covering it but George thinks it looks a lot like your photograph. He

s giving me the thumbs up down here big time.

Hutchinson felt himself breaking out into a sweat. He loosened his tie and undid the top button on his shirt.


Can you use your head cams?


It

s very murky Jim. I

ll put mine on now. Don

t think you

re going to get much. It

s on now.

Hutchinson nudged Ali to search for the images.


We

ve got something,

Hutchinson said,

It

s not very clear down there. Is that George next to you now?


Yes.


And where is the subject?

Natalie turned her head towards the shipwreck. They could barely make out the hull.


It

s not very clear.


Hang on a second.

Natalie reached up a gloved hand and wiped the camera lens.


Is that any clearer?


A little. Nat can you and your team make your way to the stern.


Will do Jim.

Dennis looked up at Hutchinson.


Will that take them a minute or two?


Probably.


I

ll take this advantage of a toilet break.

Hutchinson nodded without taking his eyes off the computer images.

 

Dennis rinsed his hands under the hot tap and dried them on a towel. He left the toilet just as one of the crew was just passing with a tray of cups, coffee steaming pleasantly. Dennis side stepped to move out of the way but the crew member insisted the guest go first. Dennis was about to when something caught his eye. He moved to the railings at the ship

s side. The coffee left a brief aroma as it disappeared around the corner.

The

Wavecrest

had just left the harbour and was moving slowly towards them. Dennis watched it for a minute or so as it got slowly bigger on the horizon. Finally Dennis turned away and walked to the bottom of the stairs that led to the bridge. He stopped as the unmistakeable sound of a helicopter came across to him. He put his hand above his eyes to block out the sun but he couldn

t see it near the approaching ship. Then he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw it against the horizon. It was travelling at a right angle from the

Wavecrest

. Then it turned quickly and was heading for the

Volante

. Dennis raced for the bridge and burst through the door.

BOOK: Tomb of the Lost
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