Treasure of Love (23 page)

Keeping their regulators in their mouths but removing their swim fins for maneuverability, they all made their way to the opposite side of the compartment. Dax approached the forward hatch and tapped his crowbar against it to see if he could pick up a hollow sound, indicating whether the forward compartment was flooded or not. The sound was hollow, and he thought it sounded like an echo, but he wasn’t sure.

He looked at Dona and Mac and wished he could ask them their opinion. It was more difficult being down here and not able to communicate with each other as well as with the surface using these normal regulators. He gave Jack the credit he was due and made a mental note to tell him that he was right when they surfaced.

He gave Dona and Mac a questioning look, and they nodded in agreement. He took that as a “go for it.” The only good thing was that this hatch opened into the next compartment, so if it was flooded, there was no chance of danger; even if they tried, there would be no opening it against the enormous pressure.

Dax slowly turned the round handle until it stopped.

Here goes nothing!
He slowly pushed against the hatch, and much to his surprise, it opened with little resistance.
Dry. Thank you, Lord.

He stepped into the untouched compartment, shining his flashlight in every direction before cautiously going in any farther. Dona and Mac were right behind him, throwing caution to the wind, but with the three flashlights now illuminating it, the compartment took on an eerie glow.

The first thing Dax spotted was more stacked, wooden crates.
Oh great, more fish.
As with the first set of crates, there was no writing on the outside indicating their contents.

He moved toward the crates and again used his crowbar to break the seal on one of the crates. He pried the lid off and peeked inside. Dona and Mac were looking over his shoulder and they all flashed their light into the crate. The top of the crate was lined with some sort of material, and as he touched it, the material disintegrated under his touch. He brushed the remnants of it aside, and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

He let out a yell through his regulator, which probably sounded like a bull in distress, but he didn’t care. They all knew what they’d found, and Dona and Mac were jumping up and down with eyes as big as pancakes. At a closer look, the top of each of the shiny gold bars was embedded with a “1lb” stamp. He counted fifty bars in the crate then stepped back to count the total number of crates.
Ten crates in all. That’s five hundred pounds of gold.

He opened a few more of the crates to make sure the contents were the same, and then set out to check out the rest of the compartment. Lying on the floor near the forward hatch was another set of remains. This skeleton appeared to be facedown, but wore the same type of epaulets and nametag as the previous officer. Dax picked up the nametag and read it: “Sergey Popov, Chief Purser.”

He showed the name tag to Dona and Mac, and they nodded. He picked up the epaulets and nametag and again placed both in the pocket of his weight belt. Other than the purser’s remains and the gold, the compartment was empty. Dax picked up one of the crates and carried it into the other compartment. Dona and Mac followed suit, and within minutes all the crates were in the compartment with them. Dax looked at his watch. A little over an hour had passed, which left them under thirty minutes to complete the operation before Jack and Brad would enter the water and come looking for them.

He signaled for everyone to get back into the corridor, and he closed the hatch behind them. When the hatch was securely closed, Mac again started to slowly open the outside hatch. The cabin once more filled up with water, and when they were totally submerged, he opened the hatch completely. They swam into the next corridor, and one by one approached the blown hole in the ship’s hull.

Chapter 13

B
RAD
and Jack had watched the video of Dax, Dona, and Mac’s journey three times, feeling pretty comfortable that they could find them in an emergency. They were just about to turn off the video when Jack moved to the end of the couch and yelled, “Stop the video.”

Brad hit the “pause” button on the remote control, and the video stopped.

“Oh my God, Brad,” Jack swore. “Do you see what I see?”

As Mac had been filming Dax and Dona leaving the ship, in the background, lurking along the reef line, the camera picked up two divers holding spearguns.

“Holy, Jesus,” Brad said as all the blood drained from his face.

“I knew it,” Jack said. “They’re in danger. I can feel it. We’ve got to help them.”

Jack jumped up from the couch, heading for the companionway door with Brad right behind him, but before they could reach the steps, the door flew open and three armed men entered the salon. “Going somewhere, gentlemen?” the man said in a very strong Russian accent.

Jack’s first thought was to get to his gun, but where was it? He quickly looked around the cabin, but remembered that the last time he’d seen it was when he gave it to Brad. The man must have seen Jack weighing his options.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” he said as one of his companions held up his forty-five. Jack’s heart sank. He gave Brad a “what the fuck?” look, and Brad reached for the waistband of his jeans. Then he remembered. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he whispered. He’d put the gun on the table when he was on deck setting up the emergency dive equipment.

Jack’s expression changed to one of sympathy, and he quickly turned his attention to the intruder. He appeared to be fairly fit, early seventies maybe, salt and pepper short-cropped hair, with a goatee and glasses. He looked almost refined in an odd sort of way.

“Who are you?” Jack asked.

“My name is Vladimir Kozlov,” he said. “I own th—”

Jack stopped him in mid-sentence. “I know what you own.”

“You have been doing a little research of your own, I see?” Vladimir said.

“What do you want with us?” Brad asked.

“Captain Cameron, you disappoint me,” Vladimir said. “Is this how you treat guests aboard your boat?”

Vladimir turned to Brad and said, “And you must be Dr. Mitchell. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Okay,” Jack said. “All the niceties are out of the way—what do you want with us?”

“All in good time,” Vladimir said. “All in good time. Handcuff them.”

Chapter 14

D
ONA
was the first to exit the ship’s hull. She put her hands on the hull as she exited to propel herself up and out. Before she could turn around to check on Mac and Dax, her regulator was suddenly ripped out of her mouth, and a hand quickly replaced it. She bit down on the hand as hard as she could, and the intruder released his grip. She felt for her regulator, floating by her side, and stuck it back into her mouth. She felt hands gripping each arm and two spearguns pointing at her side. She turned from left to right, and then she froze as she saw Mac exiting the hull.

Before he was completely out of the hull, someone grabbed his tanks from behind and dragged him up to the top of the wreck. He struggled to turn around and see what was pulling him, but it was useless. When the upward motion stopped, a hand reached around his neck and held a knife to his throat. Much to her surprise, when Dax exited the hull, no one approached him. He swam up, turned, and they both saw the panic in his eyes. The divers motioned for him to surface as they followed closely behind.

When Dax surfaced, two very muscular, armed divers were waiting for him on the swim platform. In one quick motion, they pulled him out of the water by his BC and tanks and stood him on the deck. In a split second, one of his hands was pulled behind his back and a handcuff was slapped around his wrist and attached to the guardrail.

“What the fuck,” he said as he spit his regulator out of his mouth and ripped off his mask with the other hand. “Where are Dona and Mac? Where are Jack and Brad?”

“We ask the questions here,
strannyi
,” one of the divers said with a heavy Russian accent, and they both laughed. The way they were laughing, Dax thought it must have been Russian for
queer
or
faggot.

Dona and Mac surfaced with their captors, and Dona pushed toward the back of the boat. In the same quick motion, she was lifted out of the water, placed on the platform, and handcuffed just as Dax had been, and Mac followed suit. Now the three of them were standing on the deck of the boat, handcuffed to the guardrail, not knowing what had hit them. Jack and Brad appeared on deck, handcuffed and with duct tape across their mouths, with Vladimir and his two thugs.

“Oh my God! Jack…. Brad, are you okay?” Dax asked.

Jack and Brad nodded to Dax.

“Nicely done,” Vladimir said to one of the divers when he saw Dax, Dona, and Mac handcuffed to the guardrail.

Dax looked at Vladimir. “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.

“Such language, Mr. Powers,” Vladimir said. “Where are your manners?”

“Fuck my manners,” Dax said. “Why in the hell are you holding us against our will?”

“You have something that belongs to me, Mr. Powers, and I expect you to give it to me,” Vladimir said.

Playing dumb, and doing everything to not let on that they had the gold, Dax said, “What in the fuck are you talking about?”

Vladimir laughed. “Don’t play dumb with me, Mr. Powers. I’ve been monitoring your radio contact for quite some time now,” he said. “If you insist on continuing this little charade, I’ll have to take it out on your little sister.”

Jack looked at Dona. “Okay! Okay,” he said. “Just don’t hurt her.”

“Dax, don’t,” Dona said.

“All we found were some cans of salted fish and some ship’s journals,” Dax said in one last attempt to hold onto the gold.

“And no gold,” Vladimir said. “I think not.”

Vladimir nodded to one of his divers, and the diver unlocked Dona’s handcuffs and walked her over to the edge of the deck, then put his knife at her throat.

“No!” Dax shouted. His poker face was now gone. Any hopes he’d had of bluffing his way out of this were now long gone. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“How many cans of salted fish are down there?” Vladimir asked.

“My best guess is about five hundred cases,” Dax replied.

“How many cans are packed to a case?” Vladimir asked.

“Six, I think,” Dax said.

Vladimir did the math.
That’s three thousand pounds.
A broad smile consumed his face.

“I’m sure you are wondering why an old man like me would get so excited about so many cans of fish,” Vladimir said. “But let us get them on board and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Vladimir looked out onto the canal and saw his boat heading toward them.

“I hope you don’t mind, Captain Cameron, but I have instructed my crew to dock my boat along your port side while Mr. Powers takes my divers down and shows them where they can find my fish—oh, and my gold,” he laughed. “And one more thing. Do not get any ideas about doing anything crazy. If you do, I will personally kill your companions, starting with your sister, and then your boyfriend. Do I make that perfectly clear, Mr. Powers?”

Dax nodded in agreement.

“Now get your tanks and full face mask back on,” Vladimir ordered as he headed to the bridge to radio his boat. “If you force me to kill your companions, I want you to hear them suffer one by one.” Vladimir stopped. “And get the others’ mouths taped shut. I don’t want them talking to one another.”

“Wait!” Dax shouted. Vladimir stopped again and turned to Dax. “Make it quick,” he said.

“Before we go back down, I need to blow the hull in order to flood the compartment where the crates of gold and salted fish are being stored. If we don’t blow the hull, it will take days to get the crates out using the current method of entering and exiting the hull.”

Vladimir considered his statement with some apprehension. “Take my divers down, and show them what you want to do. If they agree with your assessment, I will do as you say.”

Finally!
Dax thought.
A break—this may be the only chance I have to save us.