Lost City - Cussler Clive (читать онлайн полную книгу .txt) 📗

"Goddamnit!" one of the men said. "What the hell's that stint^?"

Beck's voice could be heard in the background, calm but with an unmistakable sense of urgency, ordering his men to cock their weapons, stay sharp and make their way double time back to their boat.

Then the gates of Hades opened.

Someone or something launched itself through the door, shrieking like an angry banshee. Then came the thundering blast of a shotgun at close range. More shrieks and lunging bodies and the rattle of automatic weapons fire. There were blurred flashes of dingy white hair or fur and glimpses of faces out of a nightmare.

"This way, Captain!"

Chip Russo had his back to the camera, blocking out most of the picture. More gunfire and hideous screams. Then a whole series of blurred images.

Beck was out of the wheelhouse and appeared to be half-falling, half-climbing down the companionways. His breath was coming out in great hoarse gasps. Russo could be heard in the background yelling:

"Move it, Cap, move! I nailed one of the red-eyed sons of bitches, but they're on our asses."

"My men "

"Too late Move. Aw hell."

Another blast of gunfire. Then a man screaming.

Beck had made it to the main deck. He was running now, huffing like a locomotive climbing a steep hill, his boots pounding. He was near the bow within a few feet of the ladder.

There was an inhuman scream from off-camera. More white hair and lunging bodies, then another shotgun blast. A glimpse of luminous red eyes. Then a gurgle and whirling sky and sea. The screen went dark.

Austin broke the stunned silence that followed. "Your video raises more questions than it answers."

"Beck almost made it back to the boat," Muller said, "but someone or something ambushed him as he was about to climb down the ladder. When his body was found his throat, had been torn open."

"Could you go back a few seconds in the video?" Zavala said. Muller complied. "Okay, freeze it right there."

The burning red eyes almost filled the screen. The image was fuzzy, but the vagueness didn't diminish the feral intensity. A silence ensued in the room, broken only by the hum of the ship's ventilator. Finally, Austin said, "What do you make of this video, Ensign?" Muller shook his head like a man who'd been asked to explain the mysteries of the universe. "The only thing I'm sure of is that Captain Beck and his men got themselves into a hell of a mess. Whoever, or whatever, ambushed them didn't expect to run into an armed SEAL unit."

"My guess is that they intended to attack the Atlantis, but changed their minds after the fight with Beck and his men," Austin said. "That was my take on it, too," Muller said.

Captain Gutierrez rose from his chair. "I've got to get back to the bridge. You gentlemen let me know if there is anything further I can do to help."

Austin thanked Gutierrez and, after he left, turned to Muller. "I suppose you'll be going back to your ship."

"Not quite yet. A relief vessel is coming in to stand guard duty. Should be here in a few hours. I've got time. Now that the captain has gone, I'd like to talk about this situation if you don't mind."

"Not at all," Austin said. "From the little I've seen, there's a lot to talk about."

Muller smiled. "When I first heard this crazy story, I thought we

might be dealing with pirates, although there was no evidence that they were operating in this part of the world."

"You've changed your mind about the pirates?" Austin said.

"I've discarded that theory. I neglected to mention that I'm an intelligence officer with the navy. After I saw the video, I contacted my staff in Washington and asked them to research everything they could on 'red-eyed monsters or fiends." You should have heard the disrespectful replies I got, but they went through every source they could, from Dracula, photography, Hollywood movies. Did you know there's a rock group called "Red-Eyed Demons'?"

"My rock education stopped with the Rolling Stones," Austin said.

"Me, too. Anyhow, I spent some time going over their reports and kept coming back to this."

Muller took a sheet of paper from his briefcase and handed it to Austin who unfolded it and read the headline.

TV CAST, CREW STILL MISSING POLICE BAFFLED

It was a Reuters news story datelined London. He kept reading.

Authorities say they still have no leads in the disappearance of seven participants and four technical crew members who were filming an episode of the Outcasts television show on a remote island off the coast of Scotland.

Under the rules of the game, the other members of the so-called clan vote an "Outcast" off the island each week. A helicopter sent to pick up the latest exile found no sign of the others. Police, working with the FBI, found traces of blood, suggesting the possibility of violence.

The lone survivor, who was found hiding, is recuperating at home. She has been quoted as saying the survivors were attacked by

"red-eyed fiends." Authorities have discounted this account, saying that the victim was suffering from hallucinations brought on by shock.

The popular TV show, a spin-off of earlier Survivor-type productions, has been criticized by some for encouraging even greater tension among participants and subjecting them to risky tests involving mental and physical stress. The network has offered a $50,000 reward for information.

Kurt handed the article to Zavala, who read the story and said, "How does this tie in with the Alvin's disappearance?"

"It's a tenuous connection, I'll admit, but try to follow my convoluted line of thinking. I went back to those undersea tracks. It was clear that something was going on in the Lost City and someone wanted the activity kept a secret."

"That sounds right," Zavala said. "Whoever made those tracks wouldn't want anyone nosing around the thermal vents

"If you had a secret like that, what would you do if a submersible loaded with cameras dropped into your backyard?"

"Simple," Zavala said. "The expedition was publicized, so I'd move my equipment out."

Austin said, "Not so simple. Someone was bound to see the tracks and ask questions. You'd have to eliminate the outside observers. And you'd have to take care of any witnesses."

"Then that would explain why a shipload of red-eyed freaks was unleashed on the Atlantis," Zavala said.

Austin said, "Suppose the Atlantis vanished. A while later the Alvin surfaced and when it sees the support ship has disappeared it calls for help. A massive search would be launched. There's always the chance that a search would pick up traces of the Alvin and attract more attention."

"Which means whatever made those tracks may have snatched the Alvin" Zavala said.

"Gutierrez says the submersible isn't down there, and I believe him," Muller said.

Austin glanced at the news article again. "Red eyes here. Red eyes there. As you say, a tenuous connection."

"I agree. That's why I ordered up a series of satellite photos of the waters surrounding the Outcasts island." From his briefcase, he took a stack of photos and spread them out on a table. "Most of the islands have small fishing villages that have been there for years. On others, the only inhabitants are birds. This one was unusual enough to catch my attention."

He slid a picture toward Austin. The photo showed several buildings, most of them clustered away from the shore, and some primitive roads.