Clive Cussler - Atlantis Found

"Now it's two against three," Giordino triumphantly greeted him.

"Don't get cocky," Gunn warned him. "Once the helicopter returns, we're trapped in here."

"If they buy my act as Number One Eke Number Two did, maybe I can play P T Barnum again and sucker them inside."

The next batch of searchers were not nearly as guileless as the first. They approached on the road leading to the cave with the same degree of wariness as a postal inspector examining a possible letter bomb. While the helicopter hovered overhead, they advanced one by one, two covering their comrade, who dropped flat before covering them in a leapfrog tactic that moved them ever closer to the archway at the tunnel entrance. They were on their guard because Giordino was staying off the radio as much as possible and not responding to their calls, for fear of their wising up to a strange voice.

Gunn and Giordino stripped one of the bodies that closely matched Giordino's shoulder and waist size. After slipping into the black coveralls that were two inches longer in the sleeves and three inches in the pants length, he simply folded them back, slung the assault rifle over one shoulder, and boldly stepped outside. He spoke out of one corner of his mouth into the headset's microphone, trying to use the same pitch as had the man he'd killed.

"What's taking you so long, Number Four?" he asked, unruffled, without looking up at the helicopter. "You're acting like old women. I told you, there is nothing inside the tunnel and cave but the rotting bones of a seaman who was a castaway on the island."

"You do not sound yourself, Number One."

Giordino knew he couldn't fool them any longer. "I've got a cold coming on. Not surprising in this intolerable weather."

"Your cold must have cost you four inches in height."

"Make jokes if you will," mumbled Giordino. "I'm getting out of the rain. I suggest you do the same."

He turned and reentered the cave, certain he would not receive a bullet in the back, not until the searchers were positive they would not be shooting one of their own men.

"They're wise," said Gunn. "I heard your exchange over the radio."

"What's plan Two-A?" Giordino asked laconically.

"We crawl back through the roof collapse in the next tunnel, and ambush them from there."

"We'll be lucky to hit one or two at the most."

"At least that will put the odds in our favor," Gunn said, almost cheerfully.

They had only a few minutes, so they worked feverishly to reopen a crawl space through the rock into the tomb vault. Despite the damp cold, they were sweating heavily by the time they dragged the two dead bodies through the narrow opening and snaked in themselves, dragging their backpacks after them. Their timing was near perfect. They had no sooner propped the rocks back in place and looked into the outer chamber through tiny peepholes than Number Four leaped into the chamber and dropped to the floor as Number Five raced in just behind, both rotating their lights and their gun muzzles in swift arcs from wall to wall.

"I told you so," Giordino whispered softly in Gunn's ear, so it would not be picked up by the microphone in front of his mouth. "They left Number Six outside as reserve."

"There is no one in here," said Number Four. "The cave is empty."

"Impossible," came the voice of the helicopter pilot. "All three were approaching the tunnel not fifteen minutes ago."

"He's right," agreed Number Five. "Numbers One, Two, and Three have disappeared."

They talked in undertones, but Gunn picked up every word over his headset radios. Still on their guard and alert for any movement, they nonetheless relaxed to a small degree when they saw no possible hiding place for anyone inside the chamber.

"Take the one standing," Giordino whispered softly. "They're wearing body armor, so aim for the head. I'll take the one on the ground."

Slipping their gun muzzles into holes no larger than an inch and a half in diameter, just enough to see over the front sight, they lined up on the men who had come to kill them and squeezed off two shots in unison that sounded like a thunderclap inside the rock-walled chamber. The man on the ground merely twitched, while the one standing threw up his hands, gasped, and folded wearily over the body at his feet.

Giordino brushed away the rocks in front of his face, extended the flashlight through the hole, and studied their handiwork. He turned to Gunn and made a slashing gesture across his throat. Gunn understood and switched off his headset radio.

"We must remain where we are," Giordino muttered.

Before he could explain, a voice burst over the radio. "What happened in there?"

No longer interested in subterfuge, Giordino replied, "No big deal. We shot a rabbit."

"Rabbit?" demanded the helicopter pilot. "What sort of nonsense is that?"

"I fear our comrades are dead," said Number Six, soberly. "Those NUMA devils must have killed them."

"Those were the rabbits I was talking about," announced Giordino, adding insult to injury.

"You will surely die," said the helicopter pilot.

"As the old gangsters used to say to the cops, come and get us."

"That won't be necessary," said the pilot.

"Duck down!" Giordino hissed to Gunn. "Here it comes."

The pilot fined up the nose of his bird with the entrance of the tunnel and fired off one of his missiles. Then came a loud whoosh, as the rocket burst out of its pod attached to the fuselage of the helicopter. The rocket did not make it through the tunnel before striking against one wall and exploding. The force of the blast inside a rock-hard contained area was deafening. The concussion felt as though a grand piano had fallen on them from the tenth floor. Pulverized rock erupted in a deadly spray that sliced every object in the chamber into shreds. Smoke and dust compressed together in the small space, seethed and whirled with hurricane force, before taking the path of least resistance and funneling out the tunnel and into the atmosphere outside. Every combustible object inside the chamber immediately burst into flame.

Incredibly, neither the roofs of the tunnel nor the chamber collapsed. The main force of the explosion was blown back through the tunnel along with the smoke and dust. Giordino and Gunn felt as though huge fists had punched the air out of their lungs. Quickly reacting, they pulled the upper half of their coveralls over their faces to filter out the dust and smoke, before retreating temporarily into the inner tomb.

"I hope to God… they don't send another rocket in here," Gunn said, coughing. "That will spell our end for sure."

Giordino could hardly hear him above the ringing in his ears. "I have a hunch they'll think one was enough," he rasped between hacks. Slowly recovering his numbed senses, he began pulling away the rocks and widening an opening. "I'm getting damned tired of moving rock, I'll tell you."

Once through, they groped through the smoke and dust for the extra weapons from their assailants' bodies until they had five assault rifles and an equal number of automatic pistols between them. Struggling to breathe in the nonexistent air, and working blind, Giordino lashed three of the assault rifles together with cord from his backpack. The three guns were now wrapped parallel. Then he ran a cord around the triggers and tied it under the guards.

"The last thing they'll expect is for us to rush out the tunnel shooting," he said to Gunn. "You take Number Six. I'll try for the helicopter."

Gunn wiped his soiled glasses clean on his sleeve and nodded. "Better let me go first. You won't have a chance at firing at the helicopter if Number Six isn't eliminated."

Giordino was hesitant to let the little deputy director of NUMA take on an almost suicidal job. He was about to voice a protest, when Gunn raised his weapon and disappeared into the fire and smoke.