Dead Men Don't Bite (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) (34 page)

“So what do we do now? It’ll take us forever to get
them back up to the surface.”
As Dillon went to pick up another of the gold bars
the deck keeled over and dipped, and everything seemed to
be moving all at once.
“Time to leave. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Chapman shouted, and started for the hatch.
Dillon lost his footing on the slippery grille of the
deck, bounced against the bulkhead, dropping one of the
gold bars, grabbed it again, turned and started back towards
the hatch. Picking up the dive net on the way, the slim silver
case containing the Spear of Destiny slid through the nylon.
He carefully placed the two gold bars inside, and then went
and got his buoyancy jacket.
As he stepped over the threshold, the net snagged,
and he was stopped dead in his tracks, struggling frantically,
aware that the boat was now taking on water at a fast rate of
knots. And then Chapman was standing next to him, hands
pulling and twisting to release it. The archaeologist turned,
and made straight for the control room, and Dillon went
after him. With the water now above his waist, Dillon felt
the boat tilt forward, sliding, the strange groaning noises,
metal scraping on granite, and then Chapman was through
the conning tower hatch, and on the deck above.
Dillon followed him a few seconds later, dragging
his jacket with the air tanks attached, along with the heavy
dive net behind him. It only took a moment to slip back into
their equipment, zip up, and get back down into the water,
pull on their fins and masks, and get away from the sinking
hulk of the U-boat.
Moments later, the submarine had almost
disappeared beneath the surface. It’s black barnacled hull
lifting at the stern at the very end, and then it was gone. The
tranquil calmness returned to the cavern, they swam into
the centre of the underground lake and trod water while
they checked their equipment one last time, before going
back out through the tunnel.
“What the hell caused that to happen?” Dillon said.
“We did.” Chapman replied, “Opening those
watertight hatches, allowed the water to flood through the
entire sub when the tide turned. But at least it’s now out
of sight, down there on the bottom.” Chapman adjusted
his mask and bit down on his regulator, which hissed as he
breathed out.
Dillon did the same, and was the first to jack-knife,
and descend to the tunnel entrance. He shone his torch
beam and could see clearly that the U-boat was now resting
on the floor of the underground lake, some seventy feet
below them. Chapman tapped him on the arm, and pointed
towards the dark opening in the rock face. Dillon let him
lead the way back to the underwater tunnel. Chapman went
ahead, keen to get through, and up to the surface, leaving
Dillon alone at the tunnel entrance.
Once he was sure that the archaeologist was far
enough in front, Dillon took one of the two Semtex charges
that he’d kept back, and carefully moulded it to the granite
ceiling just inside the tunnel. Once he was satisfied that
this was secure, he inserted a detonator that could be fired
remotely from the surface. When he reached the other end,
he did exactly the same with the other charge, but with a
twenty minute detonator inserted, twisted the top, and a
moment later tiny bubbles started to appear indicating the
it was time to surface. He drifted up to meet Chapman who
was hovering ten feet above him.
Chapman made the okay sign, Dillon responded,
then followed him along the channel to the anchor line. He
checked his computer. Another fifteen minutes which was
adequate, and he started up the line slowly, but Chapman
wasn’t going to take any chances. At twenty feet he stopped
and looked down. Dillon understood what he wanted and
moved up beside him, and held up the net in triumph. He
could tell that Chapman was smiling.
They stayed there for five minutes then surfaced at
the stern to find LJ and Vince leaning over the rail anxiously
looking down.
“Thank goodness, you’re back. When we saw the
tide changing, and heard those dreadful sounds coming
up through the rocks over there.” LJ, pointed towards the
Devil’s Hole. “Well, we started to think that something
might have gone horribly wrong, down there.”
A moment later the charge at the tunnel entrance
went off. There wasn’t any sound, only the surface of the
water rose up, as if the devil himself was awakening.
“Good God, what was that?” LJ snapped, holding
on to the railing as the power cruiser pitched and rolled on
the increased swell.
“These waters are unpredictable and treacherous,
LJ.” Chapman shouted up from the dive platform. And
then added, “It’s most likely back-wash pressure coming
through the tunnel.”
“Yes, I suppose you could be right.” LJ shot Dillon a
look, before moving inside.
They got out of their dive suits and stowed the gear
back in the large canvas holdalls, made sure everything was
shipshape, and then went and changed into dry clothes.
Dillon pulled on casual linen trousers and a T-shirt,
Chapman his jeans and sweatshirt. LJ boiled a kettle, made
everyone strong coffee and added a good measure of single
malt whisky to each mug.
“I’ve never seen anything like it. The sea just started
to swell, and then all hell let loose.” LJ said, as he handed
the mugs around.
“You should have been on board that U-boat, LJ.
When the tide started to turn, the water level rose so quickly
that it completely caught us off guard. Had we not got out
when we did, we’d have almost certainly have drowned
down there.” Chapman commented.
“Good God!” LJ exclaimed.
Chapman drank some of his coffee. “Um, that’s
good. Anyway, no harm done, but only an idiot would
risk going back down there without a team of experienced
divers, and a full support crew on the surface.”
“I always suspected you of having a death wish,
Jake,” LJ told him.
“Well, we did get what we went for, I found it hidden
under the remains of a silk shroud, and covered in sixty
years of oily grime.” Dillon placed the silver chest on the
table.
“And the gold?” LJ asked casually.
“Ammunition cases, about forty of them, also in the
hold area.”
LJ held up one of the Nazi gold bullion bars. “And
the sub is now lying on the bottom of the underground
lake?”
“About another seventy feet down, I’d say.”
Chapman said.
Dillon went out onto the deck, and leant against
the rail, and lit a cigarette. Making a mental note to stop
smoking the minute he returned to London. LJ went and
stood by the doorway, smoking a slim panatella cigar. “The
question is, old son. What happens now?” He paced around
the main cabin, ending up standing over the chest.
“Well, no one will find the sub, that’s for sure, now
that I’ve blown the outer tunnel entrance and sealed it off
again.” Dillon said.
“Good thinking old son.” LJ picked up the silver
chest, turning it three hundred and sixty degrees, thoroughly
examining it, before placing it back on the table. “After all,
we don’t want that gold falling into the wrong hands now,
do we?”
There wasn’t any damage to the outer casing. LJ
took a soft damp cloth and started to rub away the grime.
The surface cleaned up surprisingly well, the Nazi swastika
was etched in black into the silver. Unclipping the catches,
LJ carefully raised the lid.
“Come on Boss, let’s see what’s inside then.” Vince
said, his face reddened with excitement, and the effect of
the single malt whisky that LJ had generously laced the
coffee with.
LJ slowly lifted the lid, the hinges begrudgingly
creaked and groaned all the way to the top. Everyone
gathered around as he ceremoniously lifted the inner box
out, and carefully placed it onto the table before them.
Silk of the most vivid purple, had been placed under
the spear head, which lay in two sections. Alongside them,
a single piece of crudely forged metal, used to connect them
both together.
LJ, said thoughtfully as he picked it up, “According
to some notable experts, it’s rumoured that this is one of the
actual nails from the true cross, you know?”
And these were all that remained of the Spear of
Destiny.
LJ probed around in the bottom of the silver case in
search of anything else that might be inside. Seconds later he
pulled out a bundle of envelopes. Picked out one at random,
unfolded it, and raised an eyebrow. He was looking at a
hand written letter, which he immediately passed to Dillon.
“Here, you read it Jake, you’re the multi-linguist.”
Dillon studied the German text, and then read it
aloud, “From Adolf Hitler. Gross admiral Karl Donitz is
acting under my personal orders in a matter of the utmost
importance to the Third Reich. He is answerable only to
me. It is imperative that he succeeds in this mission, and
therefore all personnel, military or civil will assist him in
any way he requests.” Dillon handed it back. “It’s signed
by Hitler.”
“So it looks like Donitz, was landed with the onerous
job of safeguarding the spear. Decided to transport it here
to Jersey, where he knew there was already a safe place
to harbour one of his U-boats. And, that Himmler on the
other hand, was only interested in his own agenda, and that
was simply to hide the gold bullion. And what better way
of transporting it to safety, than in a big black submarine.”
LJ commented.
LJ, passed another large manila coloured envelope
over to Dillon. “Here, have a look through this one.”
Dillon opened it, and took out a hard backed blue
coloured book. He leafed through several pages, before
studying one of them more closely. “Now this makes very
interesting reading.”
“What’s that, old son?”
“LJ, have a look in your envelopes.”
LJ, took out a further three books, all with the same
blue hard back cover. After leafing through a few pages, he
handed them to Dillon who studied each of them in turn for
a few moments.
He looked up at the others. “These books appear
to contain the details of numbered bank accounts in
Switzerland, South America and here in the Channel
Islands.”
“Really?” LJ said, as he leaned forward, his interest
heightened by this revelation.
Dillon looked through several more pages, before
saying. “You won’t believe some of the names written in
here. Mostly, English and American, but also Irish and
French.”
LJ took the books from him and placed them back
inside the silver box. “Any names jump out at you, Jake?”
“Two. But I’m sure that there’s many more.” Dillon
answered, and then added, “But, I’m not surprised that
they’re there.”
“Would someone mind telling me, what the bloody
hell is going on here?” Vince butted in, agitated by the cryptic
banter that Dillon and LJ were using between themselves.
“Sorry, Vince.” LJ said apologetically. “What I’m
referring to, is something that I’ve suspected since coming to
Jersey. And it concerns Malakoff and Asquith. Or I should
say, it concerns their fathers. You see, both names appear
in these ledgers.” He let the enormity of what he’d just said
hang heavy in the air.
“What? So they were both working for the Nazis?”
Vince’s voice was incredulous.
“In a nut shell, old son. Yes. And that’s why we’ve
been constantly harangued by Malakoff and his merry band
of thugs from the out start of this affair. If a revelation like
this ever becomes public knowledge, well let’s just say, that
both of these men would almost certainly be finished.”
“My God!” Chapman said. “If that’s true, then it’s
dynamite.”
“Absolutely right, Rob.” LJ carefully placed the two
gold bullion bars on top of the ledgers, at the very bottom
of the silver case. Replaced the inner box containing the
spear head, and covered it with the muslin. Closed the
lid, and then snapped shut the catches. “Of course, if it
does turn out to be true. And, don’t forget, the Nazis were
masters of forgery and deception. It will cause a right old
stir in Whitehall, that will reverberate all the way through
the corridors of power to the House of Commons and the
House of Lords.”
“So what happens next?” Chapman asked.
“We return to Bonne Nuit, where Dillon, Vince
and I will pack up and then return to London. I’ve already
contacted Phil Allerton. He’s flying down later today.” He
held up the silver case and smiled bleakly. “I suppose, that
Sir Lucius Stagg will want to know about this as soon as
possible.”
“What about the U-boat? After all, it’s still down
there with the gold on board.” Chapman said.
“The tunnel is sealed off, and we trust you’ll not go
blabbing to anyone about its whereabouts, Rob?” Dillon
replied bluntly.
“That goes without saying. I can be trusted, if
that’s what you’re getting at.” Chapman said belligerently,
looking Dillon in the eye.
“Gentlemen, please. Enough said and done, I think.
That submarine is not going anywhere, and that applies to
the gold on board. The Partners will be fully briefed, and it
will be up to them to come up with a suitable plan for the
recovery of it. Now let’s get started back to Bonne Nuit.”

The clock in Malakoff’s study chimed eleven o’clock.
He glanced up from the documents he’d been working
through since breakfast. Checked his wrist watch, and
immediately pushed the button on the highly polished oak
desk. A moment later Captain Armand, Kurt and Pierre
entered the cabin.

The Solitaire was still at anchor off Gifford Bay, and
Mazzarin and Zola, in the inflatable rib, had made contact
immediately. Malakoff, remained seated at the large desk,
a two way radio in his hand, listening intently as Mazzarin
went over the events of the morning. When he’d finished,
Malakoff turned to the captain, who was standing beside
him.

“Tell me Armand, what is your view of this
situation?”
“With little or no wind to hamper their progress,
they’ll make good time. I would estimate that it will take
them no more than twenty minutes to return to Bonne Nuit,
Monsieur.”
“So what is the plan, Mien Herr?”
Malakoff stood up and straightened his jacket. “The
question should be, what will Levenson-Jones do when
he returns? Well I’ll hasten a guess. He’ll want to get off
this island, and back to London as quickly as possible. I’m
reliably informed that a helicopter is already on its way to
collect him and one other, most likely that computer chap
Dillon brought with him.” He paced around the study. “So,
the plan is gentlemen. That if the need arises, we hit them
very hard, with stealth and surprise on our side, the instant
they return.”
“And your orders, Mien Herr?” The big blond haired
German demanded.
“Are very simple. You, together with the others,
when they return, will go ashore in the inflatable rib.
Leave this on the beach below the steps that lead up to the
Fisherman’s Lodge. Send Zola up to the road to keep watch
for their return, Mazzarin will be on the harbour wall, and
make sure he’s suitably dressed to blend in with the tourists.
You Kurt, will go and conceal yourself in the immediate
area of the lodge. Armand will issue you all with two-way
radios and ear-pieces, so that you can stay in touch with
each other, and the Solitaire.”
“And me, Monsieur Malakoff. What do you want
me to do?” Pierre asked.
“After the aggravation you’ve already caused me,
Pierre. All that I want you to do, is stay out of sight. You
will break out the sailing dinghy, go out about half a mile,
and pretend to be just another incompetent amateur sailor.
This shouldn’t be too difficult, even for you to do. When you
see Dillon’s power cruiser, notify the others immediately.
Levenson-Jones and the others must return to the lodge to
pack. That’s when we’ll hit them. Once you have the chest
with the spear inside, you return to the inflatable and get
away from there. Remember, that the chest is quite unique
in the way it looks. It’s not that big, made from solid silver,
with the Nazi swastika emblazoned in black across the lid.”
“Are we to come straight to the Solitaire, Mien
Herr?”
“No.” Malakoff went around the oak desk and sitting
down, added, “Head down the coast towards St. Helier. We
will sail around the island in the other direction, and meet
you in the marina. I need some time to think about what the
next move will be. After all, what’s inside the chest is not
only priceless, but holds the power to change the world. It
could change our lives forever.”
He got up out of his chair, and walked across to the
far wall. A panel slid back to reveal a wall safe. Inside it, were
various papers and documents, along with an assortment of
weapons. He selected a Magnum .45 handgun and gave this
to Kurt. “Don’t be careless, and don’t make any mistakes.”
“I will not fail you, Mien Herr.” Kurt said standing
to attention. “If the chest is with them, I will get it.”
“Have no doubt, Kurt. They’ll have it. Dillon will
not have failed in retrieving that chest, because he doesn’t
know what failure is.”