“Gold.”
“That’s some pretty expensive ballast you’re talking about!” Aliana laughed as she said it, and added, “Okay, you’d better get started then.”
Sam gave her a big hug and then kissed her, saying, “I’ll be as quick as I can.”
“I know you will,” she told him.
Their parting was easier than one might expect, both of them believing that even with the odds against them, they were going to be all right.
Sam swam along the surface of the water until he reached the rock wall which marked the beginning of the downward tunnel.
He then hyperventilated for about thirty seconds, blowing off whatever carbon dioxide as he could, in an attempt to increase the length of time that his cells could survive while he was submerged. The makeshift dive bell, he knew, wasn’t going to get him very far. He needed to get as much distance under his first breath as possible.
He didn’t even wave goodbye or notice the tears in Aliana’s eyes, before he simply dived under the water, as he had done so many thousands of times before.
As he submerged his body in a little over a three feet of water, the little digital animation of a swimming frog appeared on his watch, and next to it, the number in seconds.
He didn’t even bother to look at the watch, seeing no point in it. After all, he was either going to make it to the other side, or he was going to die in the attempt.
His strong legs dolphin kicked him forward as he used both of this arm to hold the diving bell. Once he reached the point at which the diving bell became neutrally buoyant, he was able to concentrate on swimming while nestling his head through the cable which descended to the gold ballast attached below.
This time, he’d covered himself with grease from the Magdalena’s large articulating rudder, as a means of maintaining some of his body heat, while submerged beneath the bone-chilling water.
As he swam, he allowed his thoughts to return to the bliss of the previous night with Aliana, attempting to divert his attention from the pain of the lactic acid build up he was experiencing, and the overwhelming urge to take a deep breathe.
Next to the frog on his watch, read the time: 1 minute: 22 seconds.
He swam on.
Using long, breaststrokes, combined with slow, continuous, dolphin kicks.
The glow he saw before him was like a mirage seeming to draw continuously closer. Sam soon realized that the tunnel was not completely horizontal, as he had first assumed. It wasn’t even diagonal. Instead, it was a giant vertical shaft. It might have once been an ancient lava tube, in which the Magdalena had somehow become entombed. As the flow of water became blocked at its base, the increasing depth of the water must have raised until it flooded the grand cavern.
Sam just hoped that he could get through whatever had caused the blockage in the first place.
As he sank down deeper within the tunnel, he popped his head up inside the dive bell and took a breath of air. Understanding just how little oxygen was contained in such a small container, he was careful not to become complacent, and would try to last as long as possible between breaths.
Next to the smiling frog, the time now read: 5 minutes: 48 seconds.
He continued this process more than a dozen times as he descended. Each time, he would expel the remaining air in his lungs prior to surfacing inside the dive bell. By so doing, he could avoid the risk of contaminating the bell with potentially lethal amounts of carbon dioxide.
However, he knew that each time he took another breath, the air inside the dive bell was decreasing.
By the time his took his fifteenth breath, he discovered there was no longer enough air for him to take another.
By now, without any air to maintain its buoyancy, the dive bell became a dive weight, and Sam hung onto it as it caused him to rapidly descend into the depths of the dark chasm.
And still, at the very bottom, Sam could only just make out a faint glow.
Sam continued to hold his breath. His lungs felt like they were burning. Only years of free diving, and conditioning had made him capable of holding his breath for so long.
He hoped that the cold water would help to reduce his metabolic requirement, but it did nothing to alleviate the pain.
When his mind started to swirl, he knew that his blood was reaching a lethal level of carbon dioxide content. In his head, where he’d been listening to the quick beating of his fatigued heart, he noticed that it was starting to slow.
A certain sense of calm settled over him.
Next to his frog, read the numbers: 14 minutes: 43 seconds.
He was ready to die.
But what about Aliana? I’m not ready to die. She’s the only thing I’ve really wanted in a long time.
In front of him, his hand touched against a wall of limestone.
The glowing hole he’d been focused on in the distance had never been one giant hole at all. Instead, it consisted of hundreds of small chinks in the wall, formed by broken rocks.
Sam squirmed through the first one he could find, and a moment later, his head surfaced inside a small bubble of air.
Gasping, he pulled himself up and began to hyperventilate.
A minute later, the dizziness he’d been experiencing from the concentrated CO2, finally reduced, and he was able to start focusing on where he was and why.
Switching on his torch for the first time since they’d discovered the Magdalena, Sam looked around and discovered that he was in an underwater cave that was approximately 6 feet long by 4 feet wide, and that it was almost completely sealed by rock.
At one end, he could see a small passageway, no more than seven inches thick, leading to the surface. The source of the light would be of no use to him.
Sam continued looking around the small cave.
As far as he was concerned, the place looked more like a tomb than his salvation.
Chapter Twenty Three
Blake Simmonds contemplated where his loyalties rested. Such contemplation was rare for him. Not since he was a small child had he even considered what his priorities were. In the end, though, the answer was simple, as it always had been and would be: Blake looks after Blake.
Looking at the touch-screen in front of him, he selected his employer’s phone number, and clicked “scatter.” The “scatter” app on his satellite phone then ran through more than a hundred proxy servers before making the final connection.
It took a considerable amount of time, but if someone was listening, which was often the case, it would take them more time to find out where the call originated than they would get listening to what was being said.
He had only spoken with the man three times since this whole thing began. The man receiving the call, answered immediately.
“Speak.”
“I have reason to believe that John Wolfgang is going to screw us.”
“Really? That is unexpected.” The man sounded calm, despite what was at stake. “Why would he do that? He knows we have Aliana, right?”
“He might just discover that she’s already dead.” Blake didn’t hesitate before stating the embarrassing fact.
“Ah… shit! How could you have been so careless?”
“I could never have predicted that John would accidentally kill her himself!”
“That stupid prick,” the man said, chuckling. “Are you confident that Sam will reach the Magdalena?”
“I’m almost certain of it, and if Aliana is still alive, I know exactly where she and Sam Reilly will emerge from the rabbit hole. But we’re going to have to act quickly if we want to secure the place.”
“Send me the coordinates and I’ll dispatch the men.”
Sam couldn’t believe his shitty luck as he stared at the rocky cave above his head. He was trapped. Despite his best efforts to swim such an inconceivable distance while holding his breath, he found himself no closer to the surface than before.