Tomb of the Lost

Chapter THIRTY EIGHT



Natalie had been right behind George when the second quake had struck. For as long as it had lasted she’d felt unable to move. The feeling was disorientating. The shipwreck had creaked and groaned as it had shifted on the sand bar. She had felt herself start to panic and knew that the others probably had too. This was the first time she’d ever experienced anything like it. She breathed deep and told herself to stop and she felt her anxiety subside. She focused on the gap in the hull which they’d used as their entrance and thought it looked different somehow. Then she realised that the ’Tangipito’ must have listed to one side in the earthquake. She also noticed there appeared to be more light coming in. A lot more light. She paused and put her legs down straight and held her arms out to balance. There was no mistaking it. The ship had definitely moved. How far she couldn’t tell. Where were the others? She couldn’t see. She decided to move for the exit. Suddenly a hand reached out for her, startling her, with its suddenness. She saw a diver’s helmet and George’s eyes. Relief flooded through her. She took the hand and now they were very close. George’s eyes were wide with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked her and though the words were muffled she understood them.

“Yes!” she shouted back.

She realised he was smiling. He checked his air gauge and held up four fingers to her. Four minutes left. She looked at her own. It was reading empty. She checked it again and then showed it to him. He held a finger up to what would be his lips if the mask wasn’t in the way. She knew he meant no more talking. Talking used up more oxygen. Oxygen she couldn’t afford to use. With signs he explained to her that if she got into difficulty they could buddy breathe. They had had to do this once before when George’s air pipe had been severed on a dive the summer before.

Suddenly her headset crackled into life.

“Dive team this is ‘Volante’. Dive team this is ’Volante’. Do you read Natalie?”

She was about to speak and stopped herself just in time. She motioned to George but he shook his head. She knew the crew on ship and particularly Hutchinson and possibly Dennis would be by now extremely worried for their safety but she bit her lip.

George led her through the hull of the ’Tangipito’ and out of the jagged opening where the torpedo had hit that fateful day. She turned to look back at the wreck and paused. There was something large sticking up out of the silt, something box like. She made to go back but George yanked her towards him. She tried to explain to just look for a moment, just there. I want to look just there for a second. But George shook his head and held up three fingers. They had already used up one minute of air. Reluctantly she obeyed. Then halfway to the surface her air ran out. She found herself sucking on nothing. She tried again, nothing. Then her lungs began to ache. She tugged on George’s arm and he stopped his progress. He took a deep breath and held it. He spat out his regulator and offered it to her. Natalie took a deep breath and held it and slowly, together, they made their way to the surface. The rest of the team just in front.

Natalie gasped for breath when her head broke the surface. George a split second behind. Natalie instantly ripped her mask off her face. One of the rescue boat crew saw the five heads in the water and shouted to the boat driver who turned the steering wheel and pushed all the way forward with the throttle. The boat roared across the waves towards them.

“We’ve got them!” he shouted into his walkie talkie.

Ali rushed from the bridge. He whistled loudly at Hutchinson and Dennis while pointing excitedly at the divers position. Hutchinson and Dennis rushed to the side. They watched as the dive team were plucked from the sea. As the little rescue boat raced towards the ’Volante’ Dennis could see that all attention was focused on Natalie.

’Oh God! Don’t let her be hurt’ he said to himself.

Ali turned to a crew member.

“Ready the decompression chamber,” he ordered, then to Hutchinson he said, “I think we should call it a day sir. We should start afresh tomorrow.”

The American nodded his approval. He rejoined Dennis at the stern and they watched as the recovery dinghy unloaded its passengers and was lashed to the stern. The divers came up the ladder slowly. Natalie was second, directly behind Alex. He turned at the top to help her up the last few steps but it was Peter Dennis’ outstretched hand that caught hers first. She gave him a half smile and he threw a towel around her shoulders. She was shivering already.

“Are you all right?” Dennis asked.

She nodded as he put his arm around her. Hutchinson blocked their way.

“Is everyone all right?”

“Yes Jim. We’re fine. My oxygen supply ran out and George and I had to buddy breathe the last of the way back to the ship.”

“Ok and everyone else is all right?”

“Yes.”

“To the decompression chamber then. All of you. Natalie and George first.”

At the door she turned back.

“Jim.”

Hutchinson whirled around at her voice.

“Not now Nat. We’ll talk at dinner.”

“It’s just, Jim, as I left the wreck I think I saw something. Jim, I think it was the sarcophagus. I think we’ve found it.”

He felt a rush of excitement run through him but he brushed it aside.

“Tell me about it later. Now decompression chamber please.”

Reluctantly the divers obeyed their boss. Dennis watched her go as the anchor chain began winding in.



Peter Dennis was laying on his bunk when there was a knock on the door.

“Just a second,” he said sitting up and swinging his legs over the side. He got up, stretched, yawned and approached the door. Expecting it to probably be Natalie he breathed on his hand to check his breath and turned the handle. Hutchinson was in the corridor holding two bottles of beer up in front of himself.

“Peace offering.”

Dennis smiled.

“Of course. Won’t you come in.”

Dennis backed into his room and pulled out the chair for the American to sit on. Dennis perched on the end of his bed as Jim opened the bottles and handed one to him. Dennis raised the bottle.

“Cheers,” he said putting it to his lips. The cold beer was refreshing. He held the bottle away from his mouth and rotated it to read the label. Then knowing Hutchinson probably had a motive for this unexpected visit he sat patiently and waited for it to begin.

“The dive team are fine. Natalie is having a sleep. I called in on her before coming to you. The decompression chamber can have effects on people and tiredness is one of them.”

“I’m glad she’s ok. I would have hated to see anything happen to her. To them!”

“Yes. These seismic events can be extremely dangerous for underwater teams. Thankfully over the years I have never lost anyone under my employ. Natalie and George are the best divers I’ve ever known or owned.”

Dennis gave an understanding smile.

“I would like to thank you though for your concern over their safety. Your offer to go in despite your current condition….”Hutchinson glanced at Dennis’ bruising, “….was noble to say the least.”

“I just wanted to help.”

“I thank you for that. However,” Hutchinson drew a breath, trying to think diplomatically, “However. When something like this happens and the dive team are in trouble, or could be in trouble, the procedure is for people to remain at their stations. The last thing we do is send more divers into a dangerous situation. We wait.”

“I understand. I was just concerned about your people. I wanted to help in any way I can.”

“You’ve already been a great help. But risking your life wouldn’t have helped at all. I need you my friend, if I may call you that, to continue doing what you’ve been doing. You’ve provided great support to the team and this mission. God knows you’ve even got yourself beaten up for it.”

Dennis gently rubbed his injured ribs.

There was a minute of silence between them as each man sipped his beer. Then Dennis said.

“Natalie mentioned that she thought she saw something, something that could have been the sarcophagus. Has she said anymore?”

“I haven’t spoken to her. We’ll talk tonight over dinner. I’ve booked a restaurant in town for us….”

Hutchinson’s mobile began ringing in his pocket. He took it out and read the display screen.

“….It’s my wife,” he looked at the screen puzzled, “She only ever rings me if it’s an emergency. Would you excuse me for a moment.”

Hutchinson got up and went to peer out of the porthole in Dennis’ cabin.

“Hello Carol.”

Dennis could hear her voice on the other end but couldn’t hear what was being said but she was talking very fast. Her voice sounded excited, no, not excited, more, desperate.

At the porthole Hutchinson’s eyes widened at the news he was hearing.

“Carol are you sure?”

She repeated what she said. Slowly he turned to face Dennis. His face had gone pale.

“Yes. Thank you Carol. Yes I know. Thank you for ringing me. I love you too.”

He pushed the red button on his phone and continued staring at it for a few moments.

“Jim what’s wrong?”

Slowly Hutchinson looked up.

“My partners,” his voice was croaky and he cleared it, “My wife has just told me,” he continued once he could compose himself better, “That my partner’s, our sponsors, have been hit by the current recession and have had to withdraw their financial support….” Hutchinson stopped, clearly stunned. Dennis knew what this meant.

“They’re pulling the plug aren’t they.”

Shakily Hutchinson nodded.

“What about our mission here?”

Jim continued to stare at his phone in disbelief. Then slowly he looked up at Dennis.

“I’m sorry what did you say?”

“I asked you where that left us.”

“I don’t know,” Hutchinson was at a loss, ”I….uh….I need to make a phone call.”

At the door he turned back.

“Peter don’t breathe a word of this to anyone please. I don’t want them to find out yet. I’m going to try to work something out.”

“Scouts honour.”

“What?”

“I promise.”

Dennis waited until the door had clicked closed then he went into his phonebook, found the number for his editor and pressed call. After a few rings he heard the other end answer and the familiar voice of Tom Rogerson.

“Hi Peter.”

“Tom.”

“How’s it going down there in Tunisia? Have you found it yet?

“We’re not sure Tom. Possibly. We’ve had an earthquake that’s put us on hold for the day.”

“Yeah I saw it on the news. Are you all right?”

“We’re fine. We’re just waiting for the dust to settle as it were.”

“So if you’re not ringing me with good news is this just a social call?” Rogerson asked with friendliness in his voice.

“Uh. No Tom. I need a favour.”

“What sort of favour?”

“Are you sitting down Tom?”

“I am now. How much?”

“Fifteen thousand a day.”

“Fifteen thousand a day. What are you doing? Starting your own museum?”

There was a short pause, then.

“Pounds?”

“Dollars. U.S. dollars.”

Another pause.

“That’s an awful lot of money Pete. I don’t know if I can….”

“Can the magazine afford it?”

“No.”

“The group can.”

“Well yes, the group can.”

“How many newspapers do you own now?”

“Two. But they don’t make a great deal of money. Not like the nationals.”

“But you’re doing ok.”

“Well yes but, come on Pete, I’m gonna need some time to think about this.”

“Think about it.”

“I will Peter….”

“Think about the riches it could bring,” Dennis cut him off, “If you sponsored the expedition. You could have, will have, exclusive rights to all photographs and media coverage.”

“How do we know that someone won’t step up and claim it?”

“Like who?”

“The Tunisians.”

“I doubt it. They haven’t even named the wrecks on their charts. They’re not interested. “

“Well then what about the Greeks? I mean what if Alexander has some long lost relatives suddenly pop up.”

“Are you serious? He’s been dead for two thousand three hundred years. How the hell could anyone realistically claim descendency now. Maybe you’d like to add the Romans. I mean they were the last ones to have him, technically.”

“Yes I suppose you’re right. I don’t know Peter. Fifteen thousand’s a lot of money. Can they not get another patron, another sponsor?”

“They need the money now Tom. I’m sure Jim Hutchinson can probably raise it somehow but it’s a question of time. They need it now.”

“I’d need to speak to my patrons. I just can’t make a decision of this scale just like that.”

“There’s another team Tom, more modern, much better equipped and they’re breathing down our necks.”

There was another pause.

“Like I said. You’d have sole rights to every picture, copyrights to everything. Anyone wants to print anything and they have to go through you first. You’ll make millions Tom.”

“How close are you to finding it? Truthfully.”

“I’m fairly sure Natalie has found it.”

“Natalie? She one of the team?”

“Yes Natalie Feltham.”

There was another very long pause.

“Are you still there Tom?”

“What? Oh yes. What about the Germans. I mean could they have claim to it?” Rogerson asked, the article written by Dennis open on his desk in front of him.

“Hitler’s Nazi regime you mean?”

“Technically yes. I mean they did discover it back in nineteen forty three didn’t they?”

“They were all killed in the battle at Gabes or went down with the ship Tom. It’s there for the taking. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity that we could never have predicted come our way. Your magazine and newspapers exclusive rights Tom.”

“Just give me a minute Pete. Hold the line. I’m going to pour myself some coffee.”

“Take as long as you like,” Dennis said, he was sure he had almost clinched the deal.

‘I’ve known Tom a long time,’ he said to himself, ‘I’m sure he’ll go along with it.’

He waited at the phone for a minute, then another, the waiting was agonising. Then he heard the words.

“Ok Pete you’ve got your money.”

Peter Dennis punched the air.

“Thanks Tom. You won’t regret this.”

“I hope for your sake not,” Rogerson replied not meaning it, “I must be mad.”

“Most madmen are geniuses.”

“Shut up.”

“Tom you won’t regret this I promise.”

“Don’t give me time to. Find that bloody sarcophagus, if you haven’t already. Oh and Pete, you’d better fax me through everything you know or have done so far. It’ll help lessen the blow when I tell my partners. I’m counting on you Pete. Don’t let me down here because we’ve just put our heads on the blocks. I hope you understand.”

“Yes Tom and thanks Tom. How soon can you arrange the money?”

“Do you have your business expenses card with you?”

Dennis reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out his wallet and saw his American express card inside.

“Yes.”

“I’ll contact the bank now and increase your daily amount.”

“Thanks Tom.”

Rogerson went to hang up then brought the phone back to his ear.

“Oh and Peter.”

“Yes?”

“Good luck.”

The line wnet dead. Dennis sighed with relief. Then collecting his thoughts he left his room in search of Hutchinson to break the good news.



Hutchinson broke the news to them at Dinner. He waited until they had ordered starters and mains and then tapped a knife against the side of his wine glass to gain their attention. For the first time since they’d boarded the ’Volante’ Ali had been invited to join them and gratefully he had accepted. The table fell quiet as Hutchinson began.

“Earlier today I had a telephone call from my wife and with it came bad news.”

Faces began looking at each other. Only Natalie continued to stare at her boss. Dennis was looking at her, waiting for a reaction, but there wasn’t one.

“Our sponsors have had to withdraw their support due to….”

A chorus of groans erupted around the table.

“….Due to financial reasons they weren’t prepared to discuss, only that they send their apologies….”

“Apologies,” George said, disgusted, throwing his napkin onto the table.

“George wait until I’ve finished please. As I said they weren’t going to discuss their reasoning with me. I did try to explain our situation but our daily costs are a drain was all they would say.”

He saw the looks of bewilderment on their faces.

“Ordinarily this would mean the end of our expedition. We would close down operations leaving the find for our rivals. However I now have good news that will lift you back up as Mr Dennis will kindly explain, Peter?”

Dennis stood up.

“As Jim has said it would mean the end of your work here, and we’ve come so close, to lose it now anyway. I mean we have the ’Tangipito.’ We know exactly where it is. Hopefully containing, as you’ve all said so many times over the last few weeks, the greatest find in the history of archaeology. No doubt the ’Wavecrest’ has prayed for such a moment to come. I know how important it is to you, to all of you. This is what you have given your lives to, the commitment, the dedication, the sheer hard work, the devotion. And as we saw yesterday, almost your very existence. That is a very high price to pay, for anyone, for any of you, for the Germans sixty years ago who gave their lives, the sailors of the ’Tangipito, the British and Indian armies, all who lost their lives or friends, family, my grandfather who kept the story to himself until his death, to a German Colonel killed in a car crash, so many lives touched by this one single thing, a piece of stone hollowed out, the ancient Greeks, the Romans. So many stories already told. One left to tell.”

They were all listening intently now.

“How we found it.”

There were a few claps and a cheer.

“I couldn’t let this slip from our fingers,” Dennis continued, “Empires have been won and lost, built and destroyed, by what lies inside that sarcophagus. The mortal remains of the young Macedonian King.”

He studied their expectant faces. Then his face burst into a smile.

“After hearing the news I telephoned my editor in London and I’m pleased, no, delighted to tell you all now that he has agreed to continue funding our daily costs.”

There was a cheer from this which made the other diners stop what they were doing and stare. Dennis raised his wine glass.

“A toast. To Alexander!”

“Alexander!”

Hutchinson now stood as Dennis took his seat.

“If what Natalie saw down there is indeed the artefact we’ll begin tomorrow with what is hopefully our last stage of operations. Captain Ali will now explain.”

Ali didn’t bother to stand, just poured himself a glass of water and began.

“This evening my crew is loading specialist equipment. Tomorrow we will use submersibles and sand vacuums. Mr Hutchinson tells me that you’re all familiar with this equipment though none of you has ever lifted something the size of the sarcophagus. Well, no matter, my team will be down there with you. They will do the bulk of the work.”

Ali could see disapproval in the Greek’s face but George remained quiet.

“Does anyone have any questions at this point? No. Then if it’s all right with you all I will begin to explain tomorrows operation.”

Peter Dennis listened with only half an ear. He knew he would only be part of the bigger picture. He wouldn’t be able to dive tomorrow. He would be a hindrance to the team, that he knew and it angered him. No, not anger, frustration. He studied Natalie. Her tongue was touching her lips as she listened to the Turkish Captain. Then Ali finished his briefing and Natalie made her excuses and left to use the bathroom. Dennis watched her go. She was wearing a coral pink dress that stopped above the knee. It was very pretty and Dennis enjoyed seeing her bum wiggle as she walked through the busy restaurant. A waiter carrying a bottle of wine moved politely out of her way to allow her to pass and he turned his head to watch her. Dennis saw and half smirked. He couldn’t think of a single man in the world who wouldn’t find her attractive. Except for maybe Hutchinson. He took his eyes off the ladies toilet door to study the American.

“I really am getting too fond of her,” he said to himself, knowing it would probably never work out between them.

The group at the table were boisterous. Somebody said something to him and though he smiled he didn’t actually hear the words. He realised it was Jim Hutchinson sitting next to him who had spoken.

“I’m sorry Jim what did you say?”

“I was just saying I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”

“Yes. Yes of course.”

But Dennis wasn’t concentrating. He was watching the ladies door waiting to see Natalie reappear.

“Do you know,” he said out loud, “I think I’m falling in love with her.”

Dennis picked up his wine and downed it.

“What did you say?” Hutchinson asked, not sure he’d heard right.

“I said to tomorrow, a sort of toast.”

The waiter arrived with a bottle of red and popped the cork. Hutchinson slapped Dennis across the shoulder in a friendly gesture as he was offered the cork to smell but he waved it away.

“Just pour my good man. My friends glass is empty.”



The man stood alone in the shadows by the bridge of the ’Wavecrest’. The ship was in almost total darkness. The only lights on were in the crew’s cabins. The lights on the bridge were off but the computers and radar were on leaving a faint blue-green glow that reflected in the windows.

The port of Gabes was unusually quiet. The figure could hear the water lapping against the side of the hull. He stood so still that for anyone watching his white suit they would have passed it for a different shade in the dark. He was staring fixedly across the harbour at the ’Volante’ moored at her dock. The sound of dogs barking from somewhere in the town drifted across the water. A car engine started up and it moved away, the sound getting fainter. It backfired many times. The dogs fell silent.

The figure in the white suit turned at the sound of approaching footsteps on the metal stairs. He saw the huge bulk of Danilov approaching. At the top of the stairs Danilov thrust out his hand.

“The disc you asked for Herr Count.”

The white suited man took the compact disc from the huge Russian.

“Thank you Danilov. That will be all.”

The man in the white suit went onto the bridge alone. He loaded the CD into a computer and when a media player screen came up he clicked ‘play’. The soundtrack was distorted. For over an hour he used the computer’s program to remove background noise. Finally he got what he wanted to hear. He replayed the soundtrack. He just couldn’t quite make out the words spoken. He fine tuned some more. Now he could clearly hear the female voice. He replayed it over and over. The words registering in his brain.

“As I left the wreck I think I saw something. Jim I think it was the sarcophagus. I think we’ve found it.”

The man dragged the cursor along to remove the first two sentences spoken. Then played it again and again and again.

“I think we’ve found it. I think we’ve found it.”

He looked out of the windows at the ’Volante’. An evil, sickly smile spread across his face.