Clive Cussler - Treasure of Khan

"Burn," Theresa urged aloud. "Burn this bloody prison down."

They looked like bogeymen, black-rubbery-skinned ogres moving ghostlike through the trees. Moving in silence, the three dark figures crossed the road in a cumbersome gait, then inched their way up to the side of the aqueduct. A few yards away, the rushing waters of the mountain river echoed across the hillside with a pounding fury. One of the figures stuck an arm into the aqueduct, then flicked on a small penlight. The clear water swirled past at an easy current, unlike the raging river beyond. Pitt turned off the light, then nodded at his companions.

They had waited an hour after sundown, until the forested hilltop was nearly pitch-black. A late-rising moon would allow them plenty of darkness for at least another hour or two. Climbing into the back of the truck with Giordino and Gunn, Pitt found their gear organized into three stacks.

"How deep is the aqueduct?" Gunn asked as he slipped into a black DUI neoprene dry suit.

"No more than six feet," Pitt replied. "We could probably get by with snorkels, but we'll use the rebreathers in case we need to stay under a bit longer."

Pitt had already zipped up his dry suit and was slipping on a Drager rebreather harness. Weighing just over thirty pounds, the system allowed a diver to breathe a contained supply of purified air recirculated with carbon dioxide scrubbers. Replacing the large steel air tank with a small tank and pack, the rebreather nearly eliminated visible exhaust bubbles as well. Pitt strapped on a weighted dive belt, then attached a waterproof dive bag. Inside he had placed his shoes, two handheld radios, and his Colt .45.

Climbing out of the truck, he surveyed the perimeter area, then ducked his head back into the rear.

"You gentlemen ready for a midnight swim?" he asked.

"I'm ready for a warm bath and a glass of bourbon," Gunn said.

"All set, just as soon as I load up my breaking-and-entering tools," Giordino replied. He rummaged around a toolbox until producing a hacksaw, monkey wrench, crowbar, and portable underwater torch, which he clipped to his belt, then hopped out the back. Gunn followed him out of the truck with an earnest look on his face.

The men made their way to the aqueduct in their black dry suits, each carrying a pair of lightweight dive fins. At the side of the V-shaped channel, Pitt took a final look around. The moon had yet to appear, and visibility under the partly cloudy skies was no more than thirty feet. They would be virtually undetected in the aqueduct.

"Try to keep your speed down. We'll pull out under the small bridge just inside the compound wall," Pitt said, pulling on his fins. He checked his regulator, then pulled down his mask and gently rolled into the aqueduct. Gunn splashed in a few seconds behind, then Giordino slipped in to follow from the tail position.

The bone-chilling river water would have frozen an unprotected man in minutes, but for Pitt in his dry suit, it felt like only a cool breeze. He'd nearly overheated hiking to the aqueduct in the insulated dry suit and was actually thankful for the cooling effect, despite the bitter chill around his mouth and face mask.

The gravity-induced water in the aqueduct flowed faster than he expected, so he shifted his feet forward and lay prone on his back. Lazily kicking his fins against the downward flow, he was able to slow his speed to a walking pace. The aqueduct followed the winding course of the road, and Pitt felt himself snake from one side to the other as he descended. The concrete channel was coated with a thin layer of algae, and Pitt bounced and slipped easily off its slimy walls.

It was almost a relaxing ride, he thought, gazing up at the sky overhead and the thick pine trees lining the bank. Then the trees gradually fell away, and the aqueduct channel straightened as it flowed through an open clearing. The dim glow of a light shined ahead, and Pitt could just make out the top of the compound wall rising in the distance.

There were actually two lights, one mounted atop the compound wall and another glowing from the interior of the guard hut. Inside the hut, a pair of duty guards sat chitchatting in front of a large video-monitor board. Live video feeds ran from nearly a dozen cameras mounted around the perimeter grounds, including one directly above the aqueduct. The grainy green night-vision images captured the occasional wolf or gazelle but little else in the remote setting. The studious guards refrained from the natural urge to sleep or play cards in order to relieve the boredom, knowing that Borjin had zero tolerance for indolent behavior.

At the sight of the compound, Pitt purged a shot of air from his dry suit, sinking his body a few inches below the surface. He craned his neck just before going under, spotting the dark image of Gunn floating a few yards behind him. He hoped Gunn would take the cue and submerge as well.

The water was clear enough that Pitt could easily detect the glow of the entry lights and the looming edifice of the compound wall. As he glided closer, he flattened his feet and bent his knees to brace for a possible impact. He wasn't disappointed. As he whizzed past the lights on his right, his finned feet collided with a metal grate that filtered large debris, and intruders, from passing through the aqueduct into the compound. Pitt quickly kicked to one side, then dropped to his knees and looked upstream. A black object quickly loomed up in front of him, and Pitt reached out and grabbed the murky Rudi Gunn a second before he collided with the grate. Not far behind, Giordino appeared, halting against the grate with his feet as Pitt had.

Inside the guard hut, the two security men sat oblivious to the three intruders in the aqueduct just a few feet away. Had they been monitoring the overhead video camera closely, they might have detected several dark objects in the water and gone to investigate. Had they even stepped outside their warm hut and listened attentively, they might have heard a muffled grinding noise coming from under the water. But the guards did neither.

The grate proved an easier obstacle than they expected. Rather than a tightly latticed plate that they would have had to cut through, the grate was a simple strand of vertical iron bars six inches apart. Feeling the way with his hands, Giordino grabbed the center bar and pulled himself to the bottom, where he attacked the base with his hacksaw. The bar was well rusted, and he was able to slice through it with only a few dozen strokes. He moved to the adjacent bar and cut through it with little additional effort.

Bracing his feet on the floor of the aqueduct, he grabbed both bars just above the cuts and pulled up.

With a burst from his burly thighs, he bent both bars up and away from the grate, creating a narrow passageway at the bottom of the aqueduct.

Gunn was resting on his knees when Giordino grabbed his arm and guided him to the access hole. Gunn quickly felt his way around the opening, then kicked through, twisting sideways to slip past the remaining bars. He turned and kicked against the flowing water until he detected the shapes of Pitt and Giordino slip through, then he relaxed and let the current pull him. They drifted through a concrete pipe passing under the compound wall, gliding through total darkness, until they spilled into the open aqueduct on the other side.

Gunn lazily kicked to the surface just in time to see the small footbridge passing over his head. He struggled to stop as an arm reached out of nowhere and yanked him to the side.

"End of the line, Rudi," he heard Pitt's voice whisper.

The steep and slippery sides of the aqueduct made for a difficult exit, but the men were able to pull themselves out by the bridge supports. Sitting in the shadow of the small bridge, they quickly stripped out of their dry suits and stashed them under the bridge footing. A scan of the compound revealed all was quiet, and no horse patrols were visible in the immediate area.