Clive Cussler - Treasure

"Could take an hour just to find them all."

"You've got five minutes," Hollis said quickly. "We can't wait any longer or we'll be dead."

"We'll all be dead if the charges go off and the ice wall falls on the ship."

"We'll gamble on surprise to stop the terrorists from detonating. Make it fast. My boats can be discovered at any moment."

"I can just make out your shadows from the glacial rim."

"Your temn goes in first," Hollis ordered. "Without total darkness to cover our ascent up the hull we badly need the distraction. "

"I'll meet you on the sun deck for cocktails," Dillenger said.

"The tab will be on me," Hollis replied, suddenly buoyant with expectation. "Good luck."

Ibn saw them.

He stood on the old ore-loading pier along with Ammar, their four hostages and twenty men of the Egyptian hijacking force. He peered through binoculars at the figures in all-black gear who were poised on the brink of the glacier. He watched as they slid down ropes, slashed their way through the plastic sheet and vanished inside.

He lowered the glasses slightly and focused on the men in the boats clustered below the hull. He observed them shoot grappling hooks from small launchers, and then climb the attached lines to the main-deck level.

"Who are they?" asked Ammar, standing next to him, also gazing through binoculars.

"I cannot say, Suleiman Aziz. They appear to be an elite force. I hear no battle sounds; their weapons must be heavily silenced. Their assault operation was most efficient."

"Too efficient for any rabble Yazid or Topiltzin could have scraped up on short notice."

"I believe they may be an American Special Operations Force." Ammar nodded in the brightening light. "You may be right, but how in Allah's name did they find us so quickly?"

"We must leave before their support forces arrive."

"Have you signaled for the chopper?"

"It should be here shortly.

"Wat is it?" asked President De Lorenzo. "What is happening?"

Ammar brushed off De Lorenzo. for the first time a flicker of foreboding came through in his voice. "It seems we left the ship at a most appropriate moment. Allah smiles. The intruders are not aware of our presence here."

"In another thirty minutes this island will be crawling with United States fighting men," said Senator Pitt, calmly turning the screw. "You might be well advised to surrender."

Ammar suddenly turned and stared savagely at the politician. "Not necessary, Senator. Don't look for your famed cavalry to charge to the rescue. If and when they arrive, there will be no one left to save."

"Why didn't you kill us on the ship?" Hala asked bravely.

Ammar's teeth showed under the mask in a hideous smile and he did not give her the courtesy of an answer. He nodded at Ibn. "Detonate the charges."

"As you wish, Suleiman Aziz," Ibn replied dutifully.

"What charges?" demanded the Senator. "What, are you talking about?"

"Why, the explosives we placed behind the glacial wall," Ammar said as if it was common knowledge. He gestured toward the Lady Flamborough"Ibn, if you please."

Totally expressionless, Ibn took a small transmitter from a coat pocket and held it out in front of him so the forward end pointed at the glacier.

"In the name of God, man," pleaded Senator Pitt. "Don't do it."

Ibn hesitated, staring at Ammar.

"There are hundreds of people on that ship," said President Hasan, shock showing in every line of his face. "You have no reason to murder them."

"I do not have to justify my actions to anyone here."

"Yazid will be punished for your atrocity," Hala murmured in a tone edged with fury.

"Thank you for making it easier," Ammar said, smiling at Hala, whose face became a study in bewildered incomprehension. "Enough of these maudlin delays. Quickly, Ibn. Get on with it."

Before the stunned hostages could utter further protests, fbn flicked the power switch of the transmitting unit to "on" and pressed the button that activated the detonators.

The explosion came like a curiously muffled clap of thunder. The forward mass of the glacier creaked and groaned ominously. Then nothing appeared to happen. The ice cliff remained firm and upright.

Detonations should have occurred at eight different locations inside the fracture, but Major Dillenger and his men had discovered and disarmed all but one charge before their search was cut off.

The distant thump came just as Pitt and Gunn were closing in on the two hijackers who were busily firing up the old mine locomotive. The hijackers paused, listening for a few moments, exchanging words in Arabic. Then they laughed between themselves and turned back to their work.

"Whatever caused the boom," whispered Gunn, "came as no surprise to those guys. They act as if they expected it."

"Sounded like a small explosion," Pitt replied sourily.

"Definitely not the glacier breaking away. We'd have felt tremors in the ground."

Pitt stared at the small narrow-gauge locomotive, which was coupled to a coal tender and five ore cars. It was a type used around plantations, industrial plants and mining operations. Quaint, stout and sturdy, with a tall stovepipe smokestack and round porthole windows in the cab, it looked like the Little Engine That Could, standing there puffing wisps of steam around its running gear.

A railroad man would have classed the wheel arrangement as an 00, indicating no leading truck wheels followed by four drive wheels with no trailing truck beneath the cab.

"Let's give the engineer and his fireman a warm sendoff," Pitt murmured wryly. "It's the friendly thing to do."

Gunn looked at Pitt queerly and shook his head in bewilderment before crouching and running toward the end of the train. They split up and approached from opposite sides, taking cover under the ore cars. The cab was brightly illuminated i by the open firebox, and Pitt gestured with an upturned palm, signaling Gunn to wait.

The Arab who acted as engineer was busy turning valves and watching the steam-pressure gauges. The other shoveled coal from the tender across the platform into the flames. He fed a load of the black lumps onto the fiercely burning firebox, paused to mop his sweating face, and then slammed the door to the firebox shut with his shovel, sending the cab into a state of semidarkness.

Pitt pointed at Gunn and then at the engineer. Gunn waved an acknowledgment, grasped the grab irons and leaped up the steps into the cab.

Pitt arrived first. He calmly approached the fireman head-on and said pleasantly, "Have a nice day."

Before the confused and astonished fireman could respond, Pitt had swiftly snatched the shovel out of the Arab's hands and beat him over the head with it.

The engineer was in the act of turning around when Gunn whipped him across the jaw with the heavy silencer joined to the Heckler & Koch's stubby muzzle. The Arab dropped like a bag of cement.

While Gunn guarded against intruders, Pitt propped both hijackers so they hung half out of the cab's side windows. Next he thoughtfully studied the maze of pipes, levers and valves.

"You'll never do it," Gunn said shaking his head.

"I know how to start and drive a Stanley Steamer," Pitt said indignantly.

"A what?"

"An antique automobile," Pitt answered. "Pull open the door to the firebox. I need some light to read the gauges."

Gunn did as he was asked and held out his hands to warm them from the flames leaping through the opening. "You better figure it out quick,"

he said impatiently. "We're lit up like a Las Vegas chorus line."

Pitt pulled down a long lever and the little engine slipped forward a scant centimeter. "Okay, that's the brake. I think I've figured what handle does what. Now, when we roll past the crushing mill, jump and hustle inside."