The Blackhawk was out of sight by the time the bomber made a rough landing on the air strip and coasted to a stop.
Amir’s men crowded around the plane shouting in Pashto and firing their guns in the air as Hawkins and Calvin descended to the ground.
Amir came over and embraced them both.
“Thanks for the loan of the plane,” Hawkins said.
“Not a scratch on it,” Calvin added.
“That is more than I can say for our enemies!” Amir exulted. “I only wish we were able to kill every last one of them.”
They all piled in the car and headed toward the compound. As the car pulled up to Amir’s house, Hawkins saw someone in a dark olive uniform stretched out on the ground. Abby and Cait were kneeling next to the professor, applying a make-shift bandage in a vain attempt to staunch the bleeding from his gaping chest wound.
Hawkins vaulted from the car and knelt by the professor. He was still alive, but from the wheezing sound issuing from his gasping mouth, he would not last long.
“They found him in front of the village and brought him in a minute ago. He’s been calling for you,” Abby said.
Hawkins lifted the man’s head in his hand.
“I’m here,” he said.
Saleem seemed to revive. His hand reached out and grabbed the front of Hawkins’ shirt in a death grip.
Hawkins put his ear close to the professor’s mouth.
“I understand,” Hawkins said after a moment. “Thank you.”
The professor tried to respond, but his words came out as an incoherent rattle. He relaxed his grip on the shirt, his eyes rolled up in their sockets and his head lolled as if his neck were made of rubber.
“What did he say?” Cait said.
Hawkins gently closed the professor’s staring eyes. “He said that he was sorry.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Amir surveyed the killing field on the far side of the lake, his gaze sweeping over the bullet-riddled bodies and the burned-out wreckage of the troop carrier. “It seems this Prester John treasure causes death wherever it goes. I would appreciate it if you removed the curse as quickly as possible.”
“We’ll start the search and survey as soon as we finish here,” Hawkins said.
“Then we had better get busy with our grim task,” Amir replied.
Amir supervised a work crew and Hawkins and Calvin helped collect the corpses so they could be transported by truck back to the village for a speedy burial according to Islamic custom. Amir stopped at one point to answer his chirping satellite phone. A smile replaced the frown on his face.
“One of my scouts reports that a ground force is a few miles from the village,” he said.
“Those must be the guys who were supposed to mop up after the choppers destroyed your village,” Hawkins said. “They don’t know that the air assault was a flop.”
“If you will excuse me, I must prepare a warm welcome for them,” Amir said.
“Need any help?”
“The spirits of the men who died here will guide our hand,” Amir said. Before getting into his car he said, “Thank you both for preventing this from happening to my village. Miss Abby and Dr. Cait have been a great help to the women and children.”
“Glad to hear that. Could you send them back to give us a hand with the dive?”
Amir nodded, then put the car in gear and led the truck with its load of dead bodies back to the village. Hawkins and Calvin did a damage assessment. Calvin poked around the shredded remains of the tents and picked up a bullet-punctured MRE.
“It’s not all bad news,” he said. “My jambalaya ingredients may have survived.”
“We’ll have to put it off for now. Fido’s hungry.”
They plugged a compressor into the generator to refill their air tanks, changed the batteries in the Pegasus units and laid out their dive gear. As they were preparing to suit up, Abby and Cait arrived in the Russian jeep.
“We ran into Amir on our way here,” Abby said. “He said you were looking for us.”
Cait glanced around at the blasted campsite. “We saw the bodies coming back to the village. It’s hard to believe the destruction.”
“Amir thinks it’s the curse of Prester John,” Hawkins said. “I promised him that we’d dive on the treasure as soon as possible. We’re about ready to check out the lake and could use a couple of dive tenders.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Abby said. She turned to Calvin. “Would you mind if I made the first dive? I promised myself that I would see this mission through to the very end. I’ve passed the SEAL dive course with flying colors, of course.”
Calvin shrugged. “Makes sense, Matt. I’d be more comfortable up here keeping an eye peeled for outlaws.”
“I would too, Cal. Let’s see if we can fit Abby out in your suit.”
Abby started to peel her clothes off. “Avert your eyes, gentlemen.”
The dry-suit sagged on her athletic body, but it would do the job of warding off the chill. With Calvin and Cait lending a hand, Hawkins and Abby slipped into the lake and tested their communications system, which allowed them to keep in touch with Calvin as well. Then they let the Pegasus thrusters propel them down the underwater slope. In the light from their flashlights, they saw that the boulder had disappeared, leaving an opening about eight-by-eight feet square.
Hawkins said, “There’s a big hole where the boulder used to be, Cal. The booby trap explosion must have crumbled the lower ledge of the hole. Plug popped right out of the drain.”
He flicked the beam of his flashlight at the opening and turned to Abby. “Shall we?”
Abby jerked her thumb in the air and with a series of strong flutter kicks she swam ahead of Hawkins. They passed through the opening into a tunnel which made a gradual turn to the right after a hundred feet. They were rounding the curve when Abby stopped so suddenly that Hawkins crashed into her.
“Hell, Abby!” Hawkins said as they untangled their arms and legs.
She made no reply, but instead pointed at the apparition blocking the way.
The figure with a bulbous one-eyed head was framed in the yellow twin halos cast by their flashlights. The thick arms and legs made a slight waving movement that gave the illusion of life.
They swam closer. The vacant sockets of a copper-hued skull peered at them through the glass of the circular visor.
“Guess we found Kurtz’s diver,” Hawkins said. “Time frame for the design of his gear is about right for the expedition. That’s a Schrader helmet manufactured around 1918. I’ve got a similar one in my collection.”
The diver’s weighted boots had torn away from the rubberized canvas suit and the bottoms of the legs were fringed like an oriental rug. The bronze helmet and breastplate had lost their shine and were a dull brown. A couple of feet of thick black air hose dangled from the back of the helmet. The suit hung from the end of rubber-encased chain attached to the back of the breastplate.
The chain emerged from a hole in the ceiling that was packed with rocks large and small. There were more rocks below the diver on the mine floor. “Looks like the shaft caved in and cut off his air,” Hawkins said.
Abby squeezed Hawkins by the arm. “What an awful way to die,” she said.
“He never had a chance. Cait saw the other end of the hose when she explored the shaft from ground level. The fact that he made it this far means Kurtz accessed the tunnel and maybe the treasure.”
“Yes, but was this the first dive or the last?” Abby said.
“That question may soon be answered. Let’s keep going.”
The discovery had tempered Abby’s enthusiasm to be in the lead. They swam abreast past the forlorn figure only to stop again. The tunnel was blocked by a mound of earth that reached to within a few feet of the ceiling.