COMPANY..
Except for a pair of gravel loaders, a large excavator bucket and several dump trucks and gravel lers, the entire yard was deserted.
The underground security guard units and electronic detection equipment were virtually invisible to anyone walking around the equipment yard.
"Can I meet Mr. Trinity?" asked the President.
Sandecker shook his head. "Afraid not. A good man, Sam.
A good patriot. After voluntarily signing over the rights to the artifacts to the government, he took off on a playing tour of the world's top one hundred golf courses."
"We compensated him, I hope."
"Ten million tax-free dollars," replied Sandecker. "And we damned near had to hogtie him to take it." Then Sandecker turned and pointed out a deep excavation a few hundred meters away. "The remains of Gongora Hill. Now a gravel pit. We've actually made a profit on our sand-and-crushed-rock operation."
The President's face clouded as he stared into the huge open pit that was once the summit of the hill. "Did you happen to dig up Topiltzin and Yazid?"
Sandecker nodded. "Two days ago. We sent their remains through the rock crusher. I believe they're both part of a roadbed."
The President seemed satisfied. "Just what the bastards deserve."
"Where is the tunnel?" asked Schiller, looking around.
"In there." Sandecker gestured toward a well-used mobile home trailer that was converted to an office. A sign by one window advertised the
"Dispatcher."
The four Secret Service agents in the van had already exited and begun patrolling the area while the two in the cab of the truck jumped to the ground and entered the office to check it out as a matter of routine.
After the President's party passed through two doors into a small, ban-en office at the rear of the mobile home, Sandecker invited them to step to the center of the room and hold onto a railing that protruded from the floor. He waved at a TV camera in one corner of the ceiling.
Then the floor began to lower through the trailer and into the ground below.
"Pretty slick," said Schiller admiringly.
"Yes indeed," murmured the President. "I can see why the project hasn't been penetrated."
The lift dropped through the limestone and came to a jerking halt thirty meters under the ground surface. They stepped off into a wide-tunneled passageway lit with fluorescent-tube lights. for as far as they could see the tunnel was lined with sculptures.
A woman waited to greet them.
"Mr. President," said Sandecker, "may I introduce Dr. Lily Sharp, director of the cataloging program?"
"Dr. Sharp, we're all deeply in your debt."
Lily blushed. "I'm afraid I was only a small cog in the wheel," she replied modestly.
After she was introduced to Schiller, Lily began the guided tour of the the Alexandria Library.
"We've ed and catalogued 427 different sculptures," she explained,
"representing the finest work of the early bronze age beginning in 3,000
B.c. and ending m the transcendental style of the Byzanum era of the early fourth century. Except for a few stains from water seepage through the limestone, which can be removed by chemicals, the marble and bronze figures are in a remarkable state of preservation."
The President walked speechless through the long passage, stopping every so often to gaze in admiration at the magnificent classic sculpture, some of it five thousand years old. He was overwhelmed at the sheer numbers of it. Every age, every dynasty and empire was represented with the best its artists turned out.
"I'm actually seeing and touching the Alexandria museum collection," he said in reverence. "After the explosion I couldn't believe it wasn't all destroyed."
"The earth tremors stirred up some dust and caused a few bits and pieces of the limestone to fall from the roof," said Lily. "But the artifacts came through just fine. You're seeing the sculpture just as Jumus Venator last saw them in A.D.
391.'
After nearly two hours of studying the incredible display, Lily stopped at the last artifact before entering the main gallery. "The golden casket of Alexander the Great," she announced in a hushed tone.
The President felt as if he was about to meet God. He slowly approached the golden resting place of one of the greatest leaders the world had ever known and peered through the crystal windows.
The Macedonians had laid their king out in his ceremonial armor. His cuirass and helmet were pure gold. The Persian silk that once made up his tunic was mostly gone, rotted away after nearly twenty-four centuries. All that was left of the great subject of romantic legend were his bones.
"Cleopatra, Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, all stood and gazed at his remains," lectured Lily.
Each took his Turn, hardly able to conceive what lay beneath their eyes.
Then Lily led them into the great storage gallery.
Nearly a hundred people were hard at work. Several were examining the contents of the wooden crates stacked in the gallery's center.
Paintings, stained and soiled, but restorable, along with delicate objects carved from ivory and marble or cast from gold, silver or bronze were catalogued and repacked in new cases for transport to a secure building complex in Maryland for restoration and preservation.
Most of the archaeologists, translators and preservation experts were gently handling the bronze cylindrical tubes that held the thousands of ancient books, translating the copper tags and recording descriptions of the contents. The containers and their delicate scrolls were also carefully packed for shipment to Maryland for study and research.
"Here it is." Lily gestured around the chamber proudly. "So far we've found the complete books of Homer, much of the lost teachings by the great Greek philosophers, early Hebrew writings, manuscripts and historical data showing new insight on Christianity. Maps illustrating previously unknown tombs of ancient kings, the locations of the lost trading centers, including Tarshish and Sheba, and geological charts of mines and oil deposits long forgotten. Enormous gaps in ancient chronological events will be filled. The history of the Phoericians, Mycenaeans, Etruscans, and civifintions that were only rumored to exist, they're all here and accounted for in vivid detail. If restorable, the paintings will give us a true Picture of what the immortals of the ancient world looked like."
for a moment the President had nothing to say. He was numbed. He couldn't begin to digest the immensity of the astonishing accumulation.
As art, it was priceless. As knowledge, its value was incalculable.
Finally, he asked in a hushed voice, "How long before you'll be finished here?"
"We'll move the scrolls first, then the artwork," replied Lily. "The sculptures will go last. Working around the clock, we hope to have the passage and gallery emptied and the entire collection safely in Maryland by New Year's."
"Almost sixty days," said Sandecker.
"And the translation of the scrolls?" Lily shrugged. "That preservation is the slow part. Depending on budget restrictions, we're looking at anywhere between twenty and fifty years to make all translations and gain a full understanding of what we have."
"Don't worry about funding," said the President excitedly the project will have the highest priority. I'll see to that."
"We can't fool the international community much longer into believing these magnificent treasures were destroyed," warned Schiller. "We've got to make an announcement, and soon."
"True," said Senator Pitt. "The uproar from our own people and those of foreign governments has not slackened since the explosion."
"Tell me about it," the President muttered dryly. "My popularity poll has dropped fifteen points; Congress is chewing my tail, and every one else is..."
"If you gentlemen will forgive me," said Lily shyly, "but if you can hold off for another ten days, I and the project members can produce some film and video tape of the major pieces of the inventory."
Pitt looked at the President. "I think she has just handed us
a bombshell. A dramatic disclosure by the White House, backed by a documentary, sounds like a hell of an idea."
He took Lily's hand and patted it. you, Dr. Sharp. You've just saved my life."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. President!" Lily gasped, throwing her arms around him in unabashed enthusiasm.
Admiral Sandecker shook his hand. "Thank you, sir. I think you've just made everyone's day."
Schiller leaned over and spoke softly into Lily's ear. "Just make sure you translate the geological data first. We may keep the artworks but the knowledge should be shared with the world.
Lily only nodded.
After the fever of excitement and the questions eased a bit, Lily led the Presidential group over to a corner of the gallery where Pitt and Giordino were sitting around a folding table with a Latin/Greek slator who was examining a cylinder's tag with a magnifying glass.
The President recognized them and swiftly walked over. "Good to see you alive and healthy, Dirk," he said with a warm smile. "On behalf of a grateful nation I wish to thank you for this astonishing gift."
Pitt came to his feet, leaning heavily on a cane. "I'm only happy it turned out so well. If not for my friend Al here and Colonel Hollis, I'd still be under Gongora Hill."
"Will you please clear up the mystery?" asked Schiller. 'How did you know the Library treasures were beneath this lower hill instead of the higher Gongora?"
"I don't mind admitting," said the President, "you had the hell scared out of us. All we could think of was 'What if you blew the wrong hill."
"I apologize for being vague," answered Pitt. "Unfortunately, there was no time for a lengthy explanation to ease everyone's fears." He paused and gave his father a wide smile. "I'm only glad you all trusted me.
But there was never a real doubt. Junius Venator's description of the location that was inscribed on the stone found by Sam Trinity, said to stand north and look straight south to the river cliff." When I stood north of Gongora Hill and stared on a line due south, I found that the Roma bluff stood almost half a kilometer to the west on my right. So I moved farther west and slightly north to the first hill that fit Venator's directions."
"What's it called?" asked the Senator.
"This hill?" Pitt held up his hands in a blank gesture. "So far as I can tell, it has no name."
"It does now," said the President laughing. "As soon as Dr. Sharp gives me the go-ahead to announce the greatest treasure discovery in the history of man, we'll say it came from No Name Hill."
A dawn mist was lifting from the river and the glow of a new sun rising over the Rio Grande valley when the Presidential party returned to Washington, their minds thoroughly awed by what they had seen.
Pitt and Lily sat on the summit of No Name Hill and smelled the dampness of morning and watched the lights of Roma blink out. it looked like a painting by Grant Wood.
Lily smiled into his eyes. They did not look hard and fierce now, only soft and pensive. The sun shone on his face, but he did not see it, only felt the warmth. She knew his mind was roving in the past.
She had come to learn he was a man no woman could ever completely possess. His love was an unknown challenge somewhere over the horizon, a mystery that beckoned with a siren only-he could hear. He was a man a woman desired for an impassioned affair but never married. She knew their relationship was fleeting; she fully intended to take advantage of every moment that was left to her until she awoke one day and found him gone in search of the enigma waiting beyond the next hill.
Lily sat against him, head on his shoulder. "What did the tag read?"
"Tag?"
"The one on the scroll you and Al seemed so interested in."
"A tantalizing clue to more artifacts," he said quietly, still staring into the distance.
"Where?"
"Under the sea. The scroll was labeled 'Recorded Shipwrecks with Valuable Cargoes." She looked up at him. "A map to underwater treasure."
"There is always treasure somewhere," he said almost distantly "And you're going to find it?"
He turned and smiled. "Never hurts to look. Unfortunately, Uncle Sam rarely gives me the time. I've yet to search the Brazilian jungles for the golden city of El Dorado."
She gave him an intuitive stare and then lay back, gazing at the fading stars. "I wonder where they're buried."
He slowly shook off the vision of sunken treasure and looked down.
"Who?"
"The ancient adventurers who helped Venator save the Lib collection."
He shook his head. "Junius Venator is a hard man to outguess. He could have buried his Byzantine comrades most anywhere between here and the river-"
She placed her hand gently on his head and drew him down to her level.
Their lips met and pressed tightly for several moments. A hawk spiraled above them in the orange sky, but seeing nothing appetizing, it winged south into Mexico. Lily's eyes opened and she pulled back, smiling coyly.
"Do you think they'd mind?"
Pitt looked at her curiously. "Mind what?"
"If we made love over their grave. They might very well be lying beneath us."
He rolled them both over until she was on her back and he was above, looking down into her eyes. Then his lips curled into a sly grin.
"I don't think they'd care. I know I certainly wouldn't."
Clive Cussler, Treasure
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