David Golemon - Ripper

Collins watched as Niles turned toward him with pride. He and Assistant Director Virginia Pollock were standing near a glass enclosure with hydrogen hoses running into it. There was another hose that fed the small enclosure with humidified air to keep it at a constant 67 degrees.

“What have we here?” Sarah asked in that never-ending wonder she always had for the vault areas of the complex. Collins turned and looked at his beaten but happy Sarah McIntire and wasn’t surprised at the wonder of a schoolgirl as she took in the new find.

“Actually, you can thank the colonel’s department for this one. They went on a hunch and raided a very wealthy South African gentleman and relieved him of this and other valuable historic finds. It turned out that this gentleman still longed for the days of apartheid. He stole everything here and was responsible for one of the most blatant grave robberies of the twentieth century,” Niles Compton said as his eyes flitted from Sarah to those of Colonel Collins. Niles patted the glass enclosure. “You’re looking at the remains of a great king, at least in most of the world’s eyes. Here is a man that took on the British Empire in their more heady days. His body was stolen from a simple gravesite back in 1981. No one even realized the theft had taken place.”

Jack smiled at Sarah and both he and the lieutenant turned to study the body inside of the enclosure. Everett stayed back and just watched. Not the enclosure, Niles, Virginia, nor Sarah, but Collins.

Sarah rubbed up against Jack as she looked at the shriveled but somehow still proud corpse of a man from their past.

“Say hello to the onetime king of the Zulu nation,” Niles said proudly. “I give you Cetshwayo — the man who defeated the British army at Isandlwana, Transvaal Province. It amounted to the Empire’s version of Custer’s Last Stand. It would be like us standing here looking at the body of Crazy Horse.”

Jack’s eyes moved from the body lying in its enclosure to the weapons lining the vault’s walls. There were spears, muskets, and lion’s skins, along with zebra skin shields. Large crates of more short-handled spears and artifacts sat on shelves.

“This man had all of this stuff in his possession?” Sarah asked as she smiled and looked at a far-away Jack.

“All of it. We were mostly interested in collecting the stolen remains. The president wants to make it a gift to the Zulu people, after—”

“We study and release,” both Sarah and Virginia Pollock said at the same time. They knew Niles wouldn’t give anything up until the old king had been documented from head to toe for their records.

Niles lost his smile when he looked from the enclosure to the face of Jack Collins. He cleared his throat and then his eyes traveled to those of Carl Everett. He patted Jack on the shoulder. “So what brings you down to my territory, Jack?” he asked, knowing full well what was about to happen.

Jack turned and walked over to the far wall and Europa’s temporary computer terminal.

“Europa, are you online?” Jack asked, looking at the blank screen that would one day soon hold a talking tour of the vault they were now standing inside.

“Yes, Colonel Collins.”

“Please give me a hard-copy printout of document 1877, security Collins, please.”

Without comment, Europa did as ordered and started printing out the document Collins had been working on since his return to the complex. He waited out the moment in silence and then pulled the single page from the printer. He handed the single paragraph to Niles, who refused to look at it. Instead he nodded at Virginia and she moved out into the rock-lined hallway. Niles followed.

“Before we see what Jack’s brought us, I want to show you a few more things of recent acquisition,” Niles said as he waited for the three people to catch up with him and Virginia.

All of the vaults on this level were brand new. Niles walked to a large vault thirty feet away and then slid his ID card down the security lock.

“I had these flown here from our original complex inside Arlington National Cemetery.” Niles swung open the door and waited for his people to enter.

Sitting on tables and on the vault’s floor was what remained from the evidence taken in the 1916 raid on Perdition’s Gate.

“We hope to get some answers here. We’ll start analyzing what we have as soon as our people get in from the CDC in Atlanta.”

Jack once more tried to hand Niles the sheet of paper Europa had printed out for him. Compton once more stepped out of the vault and waited for the others to follow.

“I think all of us will get a kick out of this one,” Virginia Pollock offered as Niles opened one last vault at the far end of the level. This vault, being the last on the level, was by far the largest. It rivaled the vault used to house the Ark in size and dimensions.

Collins shook his head but followed the director and assistant director inside.

“Wow!” Sarah said as she took in the display inside of the giant new vault. Even Collins and Everett were impressed with what they were looking at.

“Jack, do you remember when Virginia and I went on vacation at the same time last year?” Niles asked.

“Yes. Are you telling me you and her are responsible for finding these?” Jack asked, amazed at what he was looking at.

“Well, no, not exactly, but we wanted to be in on it, and we both knew you wouldn’t let us out of the complex without a security detachment tagging along, so we lied and went on vacation to South Florida. We had to be in on this expedition. After we found them, well, we arranged to have them misplaced, and to tell you the truth, the National Geographic Society who funded the expedition is tossing a fit all the way to Washington over us ‘borrowing’ these artifacts. After we’ve had our fun with them, we will arrange for their find to be … well … found once more.”

On the polished tiled floor of the vault and arranged in a semicircle around the stainless-steel vault were some of the most recognizable aircraft the world had ever known. There were five Grumman TBM torpedo bombers from the forties as clean and shiny as the day they rolled off the assembly line.

“Are these aircraft what I think they are?” Everett said, knowing the old tale from not only his navy days, but from every program on the Bermuda Triangle he had ever seen.

Niles stepped up to the computer terminal next to the large vault door and hit a small switch that activated Europa’s description of the contents of the vault. The sound came over the speaker buried into the rock ceiling far above their heads.

“United States Navy Training Flight 19 out of U.S. Naval Air Station, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, lost on 5, December, 1945. The Operational Archives Branch, Naval History & Heritage Command, had ordered the Board of Investigation convened at NAS Miami to inquire into the loss of the five TBM Avengers in Flight 19 on a clear day. The flight and its training crews were never heard from again, and it was concluded by the Board of Investigation that the flight was lost due to pilot error. On June 3 of last year, the National Geographic Society commissioned a search of the area after underwater depressions had been found inside the original search area. The five TBM Avengers were located exactly where the search parties in 1945 had estimated the flight went down. The Avengers were found in 375 feet of water and were located inside of an immense underwater cavern. The aircraft were in pristine condition as they didn’t show any sign of salt water deterioration after sixty-five years in Florida’s hostile waters.”

Niles reached out and shut off the presentation. He didn’t need it, as the event regarding the lost flight was a private indulgence that the director of the Event Group had taken a special interest in, even as far back as high school.