He jiggled it, this way and that, barrel first, into the wheel in the centre of the watertight hatch. Found a foothold, and then putting his full weight behind it; pushed as hard as he could. After two attempts, and no movement, Dillon checked his dive computer, saw that his down-time was diminishing quickly due to the increased exertion, and decided to have one last try, before using a Semtex charge to blow his way through.
On the third attempt, the metal wheel groaned, and then begrudgingly moved a fraction. Dillon could hardly contain his excitement, and put all of his strength behind turning the wheel, first a quarter, then a half, and eventually he heard a heavy clunk, as the mechanism released.
As the hatch burst open, the pressure of water in the control room was instantly released. Dillon was forcibly flushed through the narrow opening, in a gushing, foaming maelstrom, and seconds later, found himself lying on the grille of the walkway on the other side.
He pulled off his diving mask and spat out the air regulator, and then stood up on the metal grille walkway. Shining his torch back into the control room, he could see Chapman descending the ladder from the conning tower above. He waited while the archaeologist acclimatised himself to the cramped environment of the U-boat. And after a brief moment, he joined him in the walkway. Dillon filled him in on what had just taken place when he’d opened the hatch.
The two men stood next to each other, and were both aware of a strange eerie noise as if some living creature was groaning in pain, was also aware of the slight vibration under their feet.
“Do you hear and feel that?” Chapman asked.
Dillon swung the powerful torch beam to and fro, and then forward towards the main cargo hold area. “Yes, the same sound that I heard when we first stood on the deck of the conning tower. But the vibration only started a moment ago. Any ideas?”
“Could just be the metal structure, expanding and contracting. Or it could be the souls of the crew who lost their lives on board this vessel, on that last day of the war.” Chapman smiled ruefully, and then added. “Who knows, but one thing’s for sure.”
“What’s that?” Dillon said.
“We shouldn’t be here, that’s what.”
“Well, it’s a bit late for that, Rob. And now that we are here, let’s not be thinking about all that crap. After all, we’re only here for the spear, and to see if there really is any gold bullion on board.” Dillon unzipped his buoyancy jacket, slipped it off, and leant it, complete with air tanks, up against the bulkhead.
“And what if there is?” Chapman asked.
“If there is, then we’ll have to devise a way of getting it safely back up to the surface. Won’t we?” Dillon said, matter of factly, as he started off up the walkway.
He pointed the torch beam into the radio and sound room on his right as he went past. The Korvetenkapitan’s quarters were directly opposite on the left side of the walkway, and only the skeletal remains of any furniture were left after so many years.
A few yards on, and he was standing in front of the sealed hatchway that led to the cargo hold. Dillon looked at the metal wheel in the centre of the hatch with trepidation, and briefly thought about what they might find behind it.
Chapman broke Dillon’s momentary spell, by pushing past him, and grabbing hold of the wheel with both hands and heaving it around. This time there was no resistance, and it spun easily. There was a clunk, and the next second the mechanism released.
They stood on the walkway, in water up to their ankles, before pushing the hatch open.
Dillon splayed the beam of the torch around and immediately saw it in the centre of the room. A metal chest on a raised platform, partly covered with the tattered remnants of a silk shroud. And, although a large portion of this had decayed over the years, the majority of the red swastika was still discernible.
With Chapman following just behind, Dillon made straight for the chest. He swept the shroud off in one easy movement. The metal was coated in thick black soot, and he ran a hand across it, silver gleamed dully. Chapman looked on as Dillon unclipped the two catches located on either side, and then slowly lifted the lid to reveal what was inside.
“Is it the real thing?” Dillon asked.
“Who knows, certainly looks like it. But there are so many copies of the spear in existence that it’s hard to tell at first glance. But, we’ll leave that part to the experts.” Chapman’s voice had become edgy, and Dillon thought that he could detect a hint of nervousness as well.
Ignoring this, Dillon closed the chest, secured the catches, and placed it inside a large dive net, which would make it easier to carry.
“Disappointing, there doesn’t appear to be anything in here that could hold gold bars. But let’s take a look round anyway, just in case.” Dillon said.
Both men heard the sound, and felt the vibration running through the boat. But, this time both were much stronger than before, and appeared to come from outside of the U-boat, from somewhere in the cavern.
“What the hell was that?” Dillon yelled.
“Damn, I should have thought of it before.” Chapman was studying his dive computer.
“What?”
“It’s the tide, it’s turning. And those weird sounds, that’s the water being forced up through the fissures in the granite. I’d say that we don’t have much time left.”
Dillon moved quickly around the darkened room, the torch beam throwing shadows that danced and flickered over the dripping metal structure.
“Rob, come and look over here, I’ve found something.” Dillon was at the other end of the cargo hold, crouching down next to a stack of wooden ammunition crates. The Nazi crest and swastika branded into every lid. “There must be at least forty of these in here.”
“How come we missed them before? I mean, when we first entered the hold.”
“They were covered with that tarpaulin.” Dillon said pointing his torch beam to the large discarded sheet crumpled in the corner. “As you can see, what with it being black, and covered in grime. Well, it’s not surprising that this end of the hold is almost invisible at first glance. Or perhaps that was the intention?” Dillon bent down and tried lifting the lid on the nearest crate. When it wouldn’t budge, he looked up and said, “Come on, give me a hand to get one or two of these lids off.”
Chapman, used his diving knife to pry the wooden planking away. Dillon did the same, and in no time the lids of two of the crates had been removed. Inside they found heavy muslin gauze lying on the top, Dillon peeled it back to reveal what was underneath.
“Holy shit, that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever set eyes on.” Chapman exclaimed in a rush of excited words.
“Yes, it is rather divine, isn’t it?” Dillon picked up one of the heavy gold bars, and held it up to the torch light. “And to think that there’s forty cases in here, full of these little beauties.”
“So what do we do now? It’ll take us forever to get them back up to the surface.”
As Dillon went to pick up another of the gold bars the deck keeled over and dipped, and everything seemed to be moving all at once.
“Time to leave. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Chapman shouted, and started for the hatch.
Dillon lost his footing on the slippery grille of the deck, bounced against the bulkhead, dropping one of the gold bars, grabbed it again, turned and started back towards the hatch. Picking up the dive net on the way, the slim silver case containing the Spear of Destiny slid through the nylon. He carefully placed the two gold bars inside, and then went and got his buoyancy jacket.
As he stepped over the threshold, the net snagged, and he was stopped dead in his tracks, struggling frantically, aware that the boat was now taking on water at a fast rate of knots. And then Chapman was standing next to him, hands pulling and twisting to release it. The archaeologist turned, and made straight for the control room, and Dillon went after him. With the water now above his waist, Dillon felt the boat tilt forward, sliding, the strange groaning noises, metal scraping on granite, and then Chapman was through the conning tower hatch, and on the deck above.