Текст книги "Atlantis Found"

Автор книги: Clive Cussler

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The guard's face did not transform from defiance to pure fright, but still, staring from eyes filled with loathing, he gasped, "The Ulrich Wolf' They're being held on the Ulrich Wolf."

"Which ship is that?"

"The ship-city that will carry the people of the Fourth Empire to sea after the cataclysm."

"It would take two years to search a ship that size," Pitt pressured. "Give a more exact location or go blind. Quickly!"

"Level Six, K Section. I don't know which residence."

"He's still lying," said Giordino coarsely. "Pull the trigger, but wait till I look away. I can't stand to see blood spray all over the furniture."

"Then kill me and get it over with," the guard growled.

"Where do the Wolfs find murdering scum like you?"

"Why would you care?"

"You're American. He didn't hire you off the street, so you must have come out of the military, an elite force, unless I miss my guess. Your loyalty to the Wolf family goes far beyond rationality. Why?"

"Giving my life for the Fourth Empire is an honor. I'm repaid by knowing, as we all are, that my wife and sons will be safely onboard the Ulrich Wolf when the rest of the world is devastated."

"So that's your insurance policy."

"He has a human family?" Giordino said in amazement. "I'd have sworn he curls up and lays eggs."

"What good is a bank account with a billion dollars when the world's population is about to perish?"

"I hate a pessimist," said Giordino, as he swung the barrel of his automatic against the nape of the mercenary's neck, dropping him unconscious onto the inert bodies of his comrades. In almost the same instant a series of alarms began to sound throughout the building "That tears it. We'll have to shoot our way out of town."

"Style and sophistication," Pitt said, seemingly unconcerned. "Always style and sophistication."

Six minutes later, the elevator stopped at the lobby level and the door opened. On the floor of the lobby, nearly two dozen men, with automatic weapons raised and aimed into the elevator, stood and knelt in the firing position.

Two men in the black coverall uniforms of security guards, with stocking caps pulled down almost to their eyes, raised their hands and shouted with lowered heads in both English and Spanish. "Do not shoot. We have killed two of the intruders!" Then they dragged two bodies dressed in orange coveralls by the feet out onto the lobby's marble floor and unceremoniously dumped them. "There are others who were working from the inside," Giordino said excitedly. "They've barricaded themselves on the tenth floor."

"Where is Max?" inquired a guard who acted as if he was in command.

Pitt, his arm over his face as if wiping away perspiration, turned and pointed upward. Giordino said, "We had to leave him. He was wounded in the fight. Hurry, send for a doctor."

The well-trained security force rapidly broke down into two units, one heading into the elevator, the other rushing up the emergency fire stairs. Pitt and Giordino knelt over the two unconscious guards they had pulled from the elevator and made a show of examining them, until they saw an opportunity to walk quietly from the lobby through the front doors.

"I can't believe we pulled it off," said Giordino, as they commandeered a cart and sped off toward the dock where the Ulrich Wolf was moored.

"Luckily, they were all too focused on apprehending the evil intruders to take a good look at our faces and recognize us as strangers."

"My security uniform is too long and too tight. How about yours?"

"Too short and too loose, but we don't have time to stop off at a tailor," Pitt muttered, as he steered the cart back toward the first dock while dodging around a soaring crane that was moving ponderously over its rail track. He kept his foot flat on the pedal, but the cart had a top speed of only about twelve miles an hour and the pace seemed agonizingly slow.

They traveled alongside the stupendous floating city, avoiding the busy loading activities. The dock was packed with a milling horde of workers, many moving about in electric carts, others on bicycles, with quite a few darting in and around all obstacles on rollerblades. Pitt had to frequently ram his foot onto the brake to keep from colliding with workers who moved carelessly into his path, absorbed in their jobs. Huge forklifts also ignored their approach and crossed in front of them to deliver their loads, moving up ramps and into the cavernous cargo holds. There were any number of raised fists and angry shouts as Pitt careened around all obstacles, humans or solid objects.

If it wasn't for the black security uniforms, stolen off the guards in the elevator, they would have surely been stopped and threatened with a beating for such reckless driving. Seeing an opportunity to board the ship without climbing long gangways, Pitt cramped the steering wheel and sent the cart into a hard right turn up a ramp empty of loading vehicles, across the main deck, and then down another ramp into the bowels of the floating city, to where the cargo was stored and all ship maintenance was performed. Inside a yawning cargo depot, with huge passageways leading in all directions through the lower warehouse bays of the ship, Pitt spotted a man in red coveralls who looked to be in charge of loading supplies and equipment. He alerted Giordino on what to ask in Spanish and came to an abrupt stop.

"Quickly, we have an emergency at Level Six, K Section," shouted Giordino. "Which is the shortest route to take?"

Recognizing the black uniform of the shipyard security guards, the man asked, "Don't you know?"

"We've just been transferred from shore security," Giordino answered vaguely, "and we're not familiar with the Ulrich Wolf."

Accepting the presence of security people on an emergency mission, the loading director pointed down a passageway. "Drive to the second elevator on the right. Park your cart and take the elevator up to Deck Floor Four. That will put you at Tram Station Eight. Board the Tram to K Section. Then take the corridor leading amidships to the security office and ask again, unless you know which residence you're looking for."

"The one where the American scientist and her daughter are being confined."

"I have no idea where that would be. You'll have to ask the chief security officer or the leader of K Section when you arrive."

"Muchas gracias," Giordino said over his shoulder, as Pitt sped off in the direction indicated. "So far so good, said the man on his way down to the sidewalk after jumping from the Empire State Building." Then he added, "My compliments. Swapping our orange goon suits for black security uniforms was a master stroke."

"It was the only way I could think of to get through the trap," said Pitt modestly.

"How much time do you think we have before they cut us off at the pass?"

"If you struck the guard a good clout, he won't come around anytime soon and give the show away. All they'll discover in the next ten minutes is that we drove straight to the Ulrich Wolf and came on board. They still don't know who we are or who we're after."

They followed the Cargo Deck leader's directions and brought the cart to a halt next to the second elevator. It was built to carry heavy freight, and it was expansive. Workers were accompanying a pallet piled with boxes of canned food. Pitt and Giordino joined them and stepped off onto Level Six, near a boarding platform raised above twin tracks that encircled the entire ship. They paced the platform impatiently for five minutes, before an electric tram with five cars painted a soft yellow outside and hyacinth violet inside approached and quietly rolled to a stop. The doors slid open with a soft hissing sound. They stepped inside the first car and found a forty-passenger vehicle that was half full of people clothed in a rainbow of coverall uniforms. As if drawn by a magnet, Giordino sat down next to an attractive woman with silver-blond hair and blue eyes whose coveralls were a soft blue-gray. Pitt tensed as he recognized the unvarying image of one of the Wolf family.

She looked at them and smiled. "You look like Americans," she said in English with a touch of a Spanish accent.

"How can you tell?" asked Pitt.

"Most all our security people were recruited from the American military," she replied.

"You are a member of the Wolf family," he said softly, as if speaking to a member of the elite.

She laughed lightheartedly. "It must look to strangers as if we all came out of the same pod."

"Your resemblance to one another is quite striking."

"What is your name?" she asked, in a tone of authority.

"My name is Dirk Pitt," he said brazenly, actually stupidly, he thought, studying her eyes for a reaction. There was none. She had not been advised of his menacing actions toward the family. "My little friend here is Al Capone."

"Rosa Wolf," she identified herself.

"A great honor, Miss Wolf," Pitt said, "to be associated with your family's great venture. The Ulrich Wolf is a glorious masterwork. My friend and I were recruited from the United States Marines only two weeks ago. It is indeed a privilege to serve a family that has created such an extraordinary work of genius."

"My cousin Karl was the driving force behind the construction of the Ulrich Wolf and our other three Fourth Empire floating cities," Rosa sermonized from pride, obviously pleased with Pitt's praise. "He assembled the world's finest naval architects and marine engineers to design and construct our vessels, from the blueprint stage to completion, under a cloak of extreme secrecy. Unlike most large cruise liners and supertankers, our ships have no single hull but employ nine hundred watertight sealed compartments. If, during the massive surge expected from the coming cataclysm, a hundred cells are damaged and flooded on any of our vessels, they will sink no more than ten inches."

"Truly astounding," said Giordino, acting enthralled. "What is the power source?"

"Ninety ten-thousand-horsepower diesel propulsion engines that are geared to push the ship through the water at twenty-five knots."

"A city of fifty thousand inhabitants capable of moving around the world," said Pitt. "It doesn't seem possible."

"Not fifty thousand, Mr. Pitt. When the time comes, this ship will carry one hundred and twenty-five thousand people. Between them, the other three vessels will carry fifty thousand people, for a total of two hundred and seventy-five thousand, all trained and educated to launch the Fourth Empire from the ashes of archaic democratic systems."

Pitt fought the urge to instigate a heated debate, but he turned his attention out the window of the train. He watched as a landscaped park of at least twenty acres unfolded along the tram tracks. He was repeatedly stunned by the impact of such an immense project. Bike and jogging paths wound through trees and ponds with swans, geese, and ducks.

Rosa noticed his captivation by the pastoral scene. "This is one of a network of parks, leisure and recreation areas, that total five hundred acres. Have you seen the sport facilities, swimming pools, and health spas yet?"

Pitt shook his head. "Our time has been limited."

"Are you married, with children?"

Recalling his conversation with the security guard, Pitt nodded. "A boy and a girl."

"We have recruited the world's finest educators to teach in and direct our schools, from the nursery level through college-level courses and postgraduate studies."

"That is very comforting to know."

"You and your wife will be able to enjoy theaters, educational seminars and conferences, libraries, and art galleries filled with historical art treasures. We also have compartments housing the great artifacts passed down from the ancient ones, so that they can be studied while we wait for the earth's environment to regenerate itself after the coming cataclysm."

"The ancient ones?" asked Pitt, playing dumb.

"The civilization our grandfathers discovered in Antarctica, called the Amenes. They were an advanced race of people who were destroyed when Earth was struck by a comet nine thousand years ago."

"I'd never heard of them," Giordino played along.

"Our scientists are studying their records so we can learn what to expect in the coming months and years."

"How long do you think it will take before we can begin our work on land?" asked Pitt.

"Five, perhaps ten, years before we can go forth and establish a new order," explained Rosa.

"Can a hundred and twenty-five thousand people subsist that long?"

"You're forgetting the other ships," she said boastfully. "The fleet will be totally self-supporting. The Karl Wolf has fifty thousand acres of tilled soil already planted with vegetables and fruit orchards. The Otto Wolf will carry thousands of animals for food as well as breeding. The final ship, the Hermann Wolf, was built purely for cargo. It will haul all the equipment and machinery to construct new cities, roads, ranches, and farms when we are able to walk the earth again."

Giordino pointed up to a digital sign above the doors. "K Section coming up."

"A great pleasure meeting you, Ms. Wolf," said Pitt gallantly. "I hope you will remember me to your cousin Karl."

She looked at him questioningly for a moment, then nodded. "I'm sure we'll meet again."

The train slowed to a stop, and Pitt and Giordino disembarked. They walked from the boarding platform into an antechamber with corridors leading off like wagon wheel spokes into a vast labyrinth.

"Now which way?" asked Giordino.

"We go dead amidships and follow the signs to the K Section," Pitt said, as he set off into the center corridor. "We want to avoid the security office like the plague."

Walking along what seemed to be an endless corridor, they passed numbered doors, several of them open while the rooms were being furnished. They looked in and saw spacious living quarters on a par with luxury condominiums. Pitt could understand now why the guard had referred to them as residences. The plan was for the occupants to live as comfortably as possible during the long wait before they could establish their community on what was left of the earth after the comet's collision.

Paintings were spaced every thirty feet along the walls between the doors to the residences. Giordino stopped briefly and examined a landscape in vivid colors. He leaned close and peered at the artist's scrawled name.

"No way can this be a Van Gogh," he said skeptically. "It must be a forgery or a reproduction."

"It's genuine," said Pitt, with conviction. He motioned toward the other art hanging on the walls. "These works doubtless come from the museums and the private collections of Holocaust victims that were looted by the Nazis during World War Two."

"How charitable of them to save art treasures that never belonged to them."

"The Wolfs plan to carry the great masterworks to the promised land."

How could the Wolfs be so positive that the second coming of the comet would strike the earth? Pitt wondered. Why wasn't it possible the comet would miss again, as it had nine thousand years before? There were no ready answers, but once he and Giordino could escape the shipyard with Pat and her daughter, he was determined to find solutions.

After what Giordino estimated as a quarter of a mile, they came to a large door marked "Security, Level K." They hurried past and finally came to a tastefully decorated reception area with tables, chairs, and sofas in front of a large fireplace. It could have passed for a lobby in any five-star hotel. A man and a woman dressed in green coveralls sat behind a counter beneath a large painting of Noah's Ark.

"Somebody in authority must have a color-code mania," Giordino muttered under his breath.

"Ask them where the American epigraphist, who is deciphering the ancient descriptions, is confined," Pitt instructed.

"How in hell would I know what `epigraphist' is in Spanish?"

"Fake it."

Giordino rolled his eyes and approached the counter in front of the woman, thinking she might be more helpful.

"We've been sent to move Dr. O'Connell and her daughter to another part of the ship," he said softly, in an attempt to muffle his American accent.

The woman, attractive in a mannish sort of way, with a pale complexion and her hair swept back in a bun, looked up at Giordino and noted his security uniform. "Why wasn't I notified earlier that she was scheduled to be moved?"

"I was told only ten minutes ago myself."

"I should verify this request," said the woman in an official tone.

"Better yet, my superior is on his way. I suggest you wait and settle the matter with him."

She nodded. "Yes, I'll do that."

"Meanwhile, you might point out the residence where she is being held, so we can prepare her for the move."

"You don't know?" the woman asked, suspicion growing in her mind.

"How could we?" Giordino asked innocently, "since she is under your charge as section leader. My partner and I are simply paying you the courtesy of checking with you rather than just going in and taking her. Now, tell me where she is and we'll wait until my superior shows with the proper authority, if that will make you sleep easier."

The female section leader yielded. "You will find Dr. O'Connell locked in residence K-37. But I can't give you the key until I see a signed order."

"There's no need for us to enter just yet," Giordino said, with an indifferent shrug. "We'll stand outside and wait" He tilted his head in a gesture for Pitt to follow him, and he began walking back the way they had come. Once out of earshot, he said, "She's held in K-37. I think we passed residences numbered in the thirties on the way from the elevator."

"Is her residence guarded?" asked Pitt.

"Wearing this security outfit, I'm supposed to know if guards are posted. No, I wasn't about to bring up the subject and look like a suspicious idiot."

"We'd better be quick," said Pitt. "They must be on our tail by now."

When they reached K-37, they found a guard standing outside. Giordino walked up casually and said, "You're relieved."

The guard, a man who was a good foot taller than the short Etruscan, stared down with a questioning look on his face. "I have another two hours left on my shift."

"Aren't you lucky we were sent early."

"You don't look familiar," said the guard uneasily.

"Neither do you." Then Giordino made as if to turn away. "Forget it. My partner and I will wait in the dining room until your shift ends."

The guard suddenly changed his tune. "No, no, I could use the extra time to get some sleep." Without further procrastination, he began walking swiftly toward the elevator.

"A productive performance," said Pitt.

"I have a persuasive personality," Giordino said, grinning.

As soon as the guard stepped into the elevator at the end of the long corridor, Pitt kicked his foot hard against the door near the latch and smashed it open. They charged into the residence almost before the door thumped against its stop. A young girl was standing in the kitchen, wearing blue coveralls and in the act of drinking a glass of milk. In fright, she dropped the glass in her hand onto the carpet. Pat came running out of the bedroom, also dressed in blue coveralls, her long red hair spread behind her like a fan. She stopped frozen in the doorway and stared unbelievingly at Pitt and Giordino, her mouth open but unable to utter words, eyes mirroring total confusion.

Pitt grabbed her by the arm as Giordino swept up the girl. "No time for hugs and kisses," he said quickly. "We've got a plane to catch."

"Where did you two beautiful men come from?" she finally mumbled, incredulous, still unable to understand.

"I don't know if I care to be described as beautiful," Pitt said, as he grabbed her around the waist and hustled her toward the shattered door.

"Wait!" she snapped, twisting out from his encircling arm. She darted back inside and reappeared in seconds, clutching a small attaché case to her breast.

The time for caution and furtive movements was gone– if either had truly existed in the men's minds. Tearing down the long corridor, rushing past workers who were putting the finishing touches on the ship, they were stared at queerly, but no one made a move to stop or question them.

If the alarm was out by now, and Pitt was certain it was, the thought of a confrontation with the merciless Wolfs spurred him on. Getting off the ship, reaching the end of the dock, and disappearing into the old water of the fjord for a two-mile swim was only half his problem. Though pulled faster than they could swim by the diver propulsion vehicles, Pat and her daughter would probably die of hypothermia before they could reach the ravine and the Skycar.

His fears suddenly mushroomed when the eerie sounds of high-pitched alarms began sounding throughout the shipyard just as they reached the nearest elevator.

Luck was with them this far. The elevator was stopped on Level Six with the doors open. Three men in red coveralls were in the act of unloading office furniture. Without a word of explanation, Pitt and Giordino muscled the startled movers into the foyer, pushed Pat and her daughter inside, and sent the elevator moving downward in the space of fifteen seconds.

While they temporarily caught their breath, Pitt smiled at Pat's daughter, a pretty young girl with hair the color of shimmering topaz and Capri-blue eyes. "What's your name, dear heart?"

"Megan," she said, her eyes wide with fear.

"Take a deep breath and relax," he said softly. "My name is Dirk, and my burly little munchkin friend is Al. We're going to take you safely home."

His words had a soothing effect, and her expression of dire anxiety slowly altered to simple uneasiness. She placed her explicit trust in him, and Pitt began to dread for the second time that night what he might find when they reached their stop and the elevator doors opened. They could not shoot their way out, not with the women beside them.

His fears were groundless, as it turned out. There was no army of guards with drawn guns waiting on the cargo level. "I am totally lost," he said, looking at a labyrinth of corridors.

Giordino grinned ruefully. "Too bad we didn't pick up a street map."

Pitt pointed at a golf cart parked in front of a door marked "Circuit Room." "Salvation is at hand," he said, jumping into the driver's seat and twisting the ignition key. Everyone climbed in, and he punched the accelerator to the floorboard almost before their feet left the deck. Unable to use his little direction finder except for course headings, he made a lucky guess after crossing the tram tracks and found a large freight passageway that opened onto a loading ramp leading down to the dock.

The army of guards with drawn guns he was concerned about had arrived.

They were pouring out of trucks and dispersing on the dock, weapons drawn and at the ready, as they clustered around the loading ramps. Pitt estimated that there were nearly four hundred of them, not counting a thousand already on duty aboard the ship. He instantly sized up their dilemma and shouted, "Hold on! I'm heading back toward the elevator." He slammed on the brake, spun the cart in a U-turn, and turned back into the freight passageway.

Looking behind, all Giordino could see were black coveralls swirling like ants around the dock. "I hate it when things don't go right," he said morosely.

"We'll never escape-" Pat broke off, clutching her daughter. "Not now.

Pitt looked at Giordino. "Wasn't there an old war song called 'We Did It Before, and We Can Do It Again'?"

"World War Two was before my time," said Giordino. "But I get your drift."

They quickly reached the elevator, but Pitt didn't stop. The doors were still open, and he drove the cart inside just before they began to close. He pressed the button for the sixth level, pulled out the .45 and gestured for Giordino to do the same. As soon as the doors spread open, they came face-to-face with the three furniture movers they had thrown out of the elevator earlier. Still stunned by their eviction, the movers were shouting and gesturing at a man wearing yellow coveralls, who looked to be someone in command. At seeing Pitt and Giordino come charging out of the elevator on the cart like unleashed starving German shepherds, their guns drawn and aimed, the four men froze and threw their hands into the air.

"Into the elevator!" Pitt ordered.

The four men stood blank and uncomprehending until Giordino shouted the command in Spanish.

"Sorry," said Pitt, suddenly self-conscious. "I got carried away by the drama of the moment."

"You're forgiven," Giordino absolved him.

The routine they'd hastily improvised in the office building was repeated. Six minutes later, they were all on their way again, leaving the four men in their underwear bound with duct tape and lying on the floor of the elevator. As soon as the doors opened wide, Pitt drove the cart onto the main cargo entry deck, stopped, and ran back. He sent the elevator upward and jammed the controls, leaping out before the doors closed. Then he followed the direction signs and drove toward the tram. Three of them now wore the red coveralls of interior ship workers, while the fourth– himself– was dressed in the yellow uniform of a supervisor.

Security guards were already stationed at an intersection just short of the tram station. One of them stepped forward and held up his hand. Pitt brought the cart to an unhurried stop and looked at the guard questioningly.

Not knowing that Pat and her daughter had been whisked from their quarters, the guard was not unduly disturbed at seeing two women in the uniforms of cargo loaders, since many of them had been recruited to operate forklifts and tow vehicles. Pat squeezed her daughter's arm as a warning not to speak or move. She also turned Megan's face away from the guard, so he wouldn't notice her tender age.

Pitt figured the yellow coveralls he had appropriated represented authority, and the respectful look in the guard's eyes confirmed it.

"What's going on here?" Giordino demanded, his Spanish improving with practice.

"Two intruders in security guard uniforms have infiltrated the shipyard and are believed to have boarded the Ulrich Wolf."

"Intruders? Why didn't you stop them before they entered the shipyard?"

"I can't say," the guard replied. "All I know is that they killed four of our security force guards in an attempt to escape."

"Four dead," Giordino said sadly. "A great pity. I hope you catch the murdering swine. Right, group?" He turned to the others and nodded spiritedly.

"Si, Si," Pitt said, agreeing with a vigorous display of disgust.

"We have to check everyone going on or coming off each ship," the guard persisted. "I must see your identification cards."

"Do we look like trespassers in security guard uniforms?" Giordino demanded indignantly.

The guard shook his head and smiled. "No."

"Then let us pass!" Giordino's friendly voice went suddenly cold and official. "We have a cargo to load and a deadline that we won't meet sitting around the dock talking to you. I'm already late for a meeting with Karl Wolf. Unless you don't want to be left behind when the cataclysm hits, I suggest you step aside."

Properly browbeaten, the guard lowered his weapon and yielded. "I'm sorry to have detained you."

Not able to translate the exchange, Pitt stepped on the cart's accelerator pedal only after Giordino elbowed him in the ribs. Thinking it best to appear like ordinary shipyard workers on a job-related assignment, he continued toward the nearest tram station at a moderate pace, drowning an urge to run the cart at its full speed. With one hand on the steering wheel, he dialed the Globalstar phone with the other.

Sandecker pounded the speaker button halfway through the first ring. "Yes?"

"This is the Leaning Pizza Tower calling. Your order is on its way."

"Do you think you can find the house all right?"

"The issue is in doubt whether we can arrive before the pizza gets cold."

"I hope you hurry," said Sandecker, suppressing an urgent tone in his voice. "There are hungry people here."

"Traffic is heavy. Will do my best."

"I'll leave a light on." Sandecker set down the phone and stared at Admiral Hozafel with a heavy face. "Forgive the rather silly talk, Admiral."

"I understand perfectly," said the courtly old German.

"What is their situation?" asked Little.

"Not good," replied Sandecker. "They have Dr. O'Connell and her daughter, but must be facing enormous odds in escaping the shipyard. `Traffic is heavy' meant that they were under pursuit by Wolf security forces."

Little looked directly at Sandecker. "What do you think their odds of making a clean getaway are?"

"Odds?" Sandecker's expression seemed pained. He looked as though he had aged ten years in the past hour. "They have no odds."