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A section of wooden planks jutted up from a grouping of boulders. Maddock played his light around the wood and realized with a start that he was looking at the remains of a ship. He examined the area in more detail and found more wreckage, and more reflections from the sandy portion of the cave floor. Sifting a hand through the sand, his fingers came up clutching two Spanish silver reals. He tapped his knife on his tank and waved his light in Bones’ direction to alert him to the find.

Moments later the big Indian was at his side, also sifting through the sand and bagging silver, as well as gold, coins. In addition to coins, though, Bones also uncovered a palm-sized jeweled cross, laden with emeralds. He shined his light on it to show Maddock before dropping it into his bag.

Maddock carefully inspected the seafloor and bagged various finds along with Bones — mostly Spanish reals, but also the occasional artifact, such as a silver cup and a length of gold chain. Visions of newfound wealth dancing through his head, the ex-SEAL had to force himself to control his breathing, to stay calm and rational.

Thinking he had time for one last artifact before absolutely needing to leave for the boat, Maddock brushed the sand off of a gray metal object that was relatively flat. Brushing aside a little more sand, he could see that he had found the breastplate of a Spanish warrior. He was not a historian, but it seemed commensurate with the same period as that of the coins — early 1700s.

Maddock was debating whether he should leave the sizable object in place and come back for it later along with the rest of the treasure that still lay about here, when he felt a rush of water next to his left ear, and then a metal dart slammed into the breastplate with an audible tink.

Aside from the fact that this projectile had missed his head by maybe an inch, the first thing that registered in Maddock’s brain was the word, flechette. It was an odd word, but one he knew because of his SEAL training. As underwater warriors, they had been trained in the use of an assortment of deadly weapons suitable for marine use while SCUBA diving. One of these was a specialized type of gun, made for underwater use that fired a small dart called a flechette. He still recalled his arms school instructor in the SEALs introducing the weapon to him and his class. The metal darts, with a short shank and flared tip, had originally been dropped from aircraft by the hundreds on ground troops in World War I.

But these thoughts were but a flash in Maddock’s now activated brain, a mind that had been trained not to react with panic when facing danger. And right now, he and Bones were clearly in danger, for someone else had come for the treasure they had found.

Chapter 31

Maddock recognized the underwater pistol now pointed at his head as a Russian SPP-1. This understanding didn’t slow him down, though, but was something he knew instantly as soon as he looked at the weapon. Knowing it was more powerful than a spear gun, but inaccurate, Maddock reacted immediately, grabbing the old breastplate from the sand on which he knelt. He raised it just as the second flechette, a five-inch steel dart, struck the breastplate.

Maddock heard the same sound as before when the dart struck his impromptu shield. He took a chance and leaned right, still holding the fragmented breastplate out in front of him, and finned his way behind a cluster of rocks, using them as cover. But another round was not fired. Maddock guessed his assailant was taking his time with the next shot. The ex-SEAL knew the SPP-1 only carried four rounds, and two of them had already been discharged.

Behind his cover, Maddock doused his lights and grabbed a knife from the sheath worn inside his left calf. Looking over to his right, he saw Bones cut his lights as well.

Maddock recognized a new problem now, in the form of the attacker’s dive partner. A second man, also armed with an underwater pistol, swam toward Bones. Four more rounds, total of six left now, Maddock calculated.

But he knew that Bones could take care of himself, and right now Maddock had his own problems to worry about. He remained stock still behind his rocky cover as the intruder who had been stalking him approached Maddock’s hiding spot. The man moved in, pistol held in the ready position.

As the attacker rounded the corner of Maddock’s cover, finger squeezing the trigger of his SPP-1, Maddock flung the breastplate up to stop the next shot while simultaneously slashing with his dive knife. He caught his foe’s gun hand with the blade, releasing a puffy cloud of blood — appearing black at this depth — into the water. The would-be killer yanked his wounded hand back, dropping the gun in the process.

Maddock sprang off the bottom and cracked his bleeding assailant across the mask with the piece of breastplate. The mask splintered into a spiderweb of cracks, effectively blinding the man. The man flailed his arms about wildly, attempting to fend off a death blow he feared was coming, but Maddock instead retreated back behind cover and watched for the second man.

He expected to see him closing in on Bones, but Maddock was surprised to see no one at all where Bones had been moments before. Suddenly he felt the currents change ever so slightly, little more than a sensation of cold water moving against his neck where before all had been calm. But it was enough to make him spin around in time to see the enemy diver about to shoot Maddock in the back with a pistol.

Maddock started to bring his shield up but he knew he would not be fast enough. He tightened his stomach muscles against the assault of the flechette he knew was coming, but at that moment Bones’ towering form appeared behind the shooter. Bones’ lights were still off, and Maddock avoided signaling him so as not to give away his presence. The big Indian’s hand came down over the shooter’s head from behind and ripped off his mask, tossing it aside.

Both assailants now incapacitated, Maddock grabbed Bones by the shoulder and pointed up toward the tunnel that led out. He didn’t even look at his air pressure gauge, but knew they were perilously low and had to get out now. Maddock thought about turning on his light and looking around for the guns, but decided he didn’t have time for any further confrontation.

He and Bones swam fast through the cavern to the tunnel by which they had arrived. Forced to swim single file through the narrow chute, Bones went first, Maddock close on his fin tips. About halfway through the chute, which angled upward at a forty-five degree angle, Maddock saw light playing on the rocky walls. His own lights were still off, and he thought that Bones may have flipped his on, but then he saw his friend turn to look back, clearly wondering if Maddock had turned his lights on.

Maddock whipped his head around to look behind them. Entering the chute was one of the divers they had dispatched. Maddock cursed himself for not thinking to grab the still intact face mask they’d ripped off the one diver and left on the bottom. Not to mention the guns. Maddock frantically pointed forward and kicked, ushering Bones on through the chute. The passageway curved left and as they followed it, another flechette zipped past both of them and slammed into the tunnel wall.

Again, Maddock picked up the pace, shoving Bones ahead of them as they sought to elude their armed pursuer. Even as he expended additional energy, Maddock made it a point not to breathe faster or heavier, knowing his air supply was extremely low.

They reached another bend and as they rounded it, this time Maddock felt a sharp pain in his thigh. He stopped moving in order to assess the hit. Fortunately the flechette had struck him at an angle, so that it did not penetrate deeply. He tried to keep moving but the water pushing against it caused it to wiggle painfully in his leg, so he paused to rip it out. He flipped on his headlamp to examine the spent round in order to make sure it was still intact, that a piece of it hadn’t broken off inside his leg. He dropped it and pushed forward.