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BOOK: Atlantis Stolen (Sam Reilly Book 3)
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Chapter Forty-Four

Siberia occupies
about 5.2 million square miles, corresponding roughly to 9 percent of Earth's
dry land mass. It is bounded by the Ural Mountains in the west and by the
Pacific Ocean in the east. To the south lies central Asia, Mongolia, and China,
and to the north, the Arctic Ocean.

Lake Cheko is a
small freshwater lake in Siberia, near the Podkamennaya Tunguska River, thought
by many to have been formed by a meteor that caused the otherwise unexplained
Tunguska event – but all attempts to examine the lake have failed to prove it
had any connection to a meteor that fell in 1908.

Somewhere in the
middle of this giant landmass of snow and ice, a Russian-built, gigantic
all-terrain vehicle known as a "Kharkovchanka," and built to conquer
the Arctic and the Antarctic Circle, rolled toward a new history. Its truly
gargantuan scale did not prevent it from moving at 30 miles an hour, and
climbing 40 degree inclines.

“Where the hell
did you get this monster from?” Tom asked.

Sam considered
how much he should say. Then, trying to keep it to the simple facts, said, “Genevieve
once knew a guy in Russia. Let’s just say their love parted, and he stayed
there, while she joined our crew on board the Maria Helena. He owed her a
favor, and she owes me several – so now we’re even.”

The massive snow
machine drove onwards, while Sam tried to guide it toward the little dot on his
GPS that represented Lake Cheko.
 Its massive tank
tracks continued to turn effortlessly through the complete whiteout known as
Siberia’s winter landscape of snow tundra. It turned to the right, skipping the
deepest section of a snow-buried river. Slowly, its tracks turned as they
dropped toward the river’s stony bed, and then up the 30-degree incline on the
other side.

On the other
side, Sam drove the snow machine through another series of ragged and
struggling pine trees until he reached the crest of another hill. Through the
opening of their heated windscreen a world made entirely of white came into
view. Sam looked slightly perplexed. He tentatively scanned the GPS. They were
close. And then he gently moved the throttle for the right tank tracks into
forward.

The massive snow machine
turned on its axis to the left, presenting him with another hill to climb. He
put the engine into low gear and crept upwards at a 40-degree incline – nearing
the maximum capabilities of the machine.
As Sam reached
the top of the hill, his view of the sky ahead was replaced by his first vision
of Lake Cheko. It was a
small bowl-shaped lake, roughly
2500 feet long and 11,000 feet wide. As with the rest of the landscape, its
surface was frozen solid. It would have been easy to drive across it, missing
it entirely, although the Kharkovchanka’s 38 tons would have most likely
prevented them surviving the crossing.  
A dilapidated
wire fence barred their way. Its purpose left no doubt with a sign that read,
Stay
Out – Or You will be Shot on Sight.

“The fence
doesn’t appear well maintained given the importance of this site.”

“Perhaps it’s no
longer valuable?”

“And perhaps this
is all a lie?”

“I’m sure it is.
But whose lie?”

Sam left the
question alone and continued to drive toward the lake’s outer edge. Mindful
that his Kharkovchanka would crash through the ice, he left himself ample
distance as he parked.

“It doesn’t look
very big,” Tom pointed out.

“No, I’d say it
would be pretty hard to hide anything substantial inside that for a number of
years.”

“Like Atlantis?”

“Yeah, that seems
impossible to me.”

“So then, what
are we doing here, Sam?”

Sam scanned the
lake again and then with a confidence he didn’t quite feel said, “Oh,
something’s here all right. Billie told us to come here for a reason. If
Atlantis isn’t hiding here, I bet you my dad’s Gulfstream, there’s a clue to
Atlantis that Billie wants us to find.”

“And the Russians
haven’t already found it?”

“No. Whatever it
is, the Russians most certainly know about it.”

“So, why not come
out with it and tell the world?”

“I have no idea.
But there’s only one way to find out.”

Chapter Forty-Five

Covered in Arctic
Survival Suits, Sam and Tom stepped out their Kharkovchanka and climbed down the
ladder on its side. Sam’s boots sunk into the heavy snow. He then slowly made
his way to the back of the massive all-terrain vehicle.

“Hey, the tourist
information brochure says Lake Cheko is no more than fifty feet deep,” Tom
said.

Sam shrugged his
shoulders. “Really, is that what the guide book says? I guess we didn’t have to
haul these heavy ass diving suits here, after all.”

Tom laughed as he
unlatched the back cover and opened the roller door to the Kharkovchanka,
revealing two enormous atmospheric diving suits, which more closely resembled
space suits out of a 1960s science fiction movie.

The atmospheric
diving suit, or ADS, is a one-person articulated submersible of anthropomorphic
form which resembles a suit of armor, with elaborate pressure joints to allow freedom
of movement while maintaining an internal pressure of one atmosphere. The ADS
can be used for very deep dives of up to 2,300 feet for many hours, and
eliminates the majority of physiological dangers associated with deep diving;
the occupant need not decompress, there is no need for special gas mixtures,
and there is no danger of decompression sickness or nitrogen narcosis.

The two ADS 2030 units
sitting on the back of the snow machine were prototype diving suits, based on
the ADS 2000, which the U.S. Navy built for submarine rescue. The ADS 2030
provided increased depth capability. Manufactured from forged T6061 aluminum
alloy, they used an advanced articulating joint design based on the Newtsuit
joints, and were capable of operating in up to 3,000 feet of seawater for a
normal mission of up to 48 hours.

It had a
self-contained, automatic life support system. It even provided the occupant
with food, water and the ability to excrete bodily waste through a system comparable
to that used by astronauts. Additionally, the integrated quad thruster system
allowed the pilot to navigate easily underwater, while the hydraulic powered
limbs allowed equal maneuverability and strength while out of the water.

Sam and Tom
removed the two machines from the back of the snow machine and put together a
winching system to run their safety lines, so that each of them could be
returned to the surface. The device looked like a giant tripod with a large
free-turning pulley attached its point with a large bolt, which allowed a
safety line to be connected to the snow machine. The two men quickly put the
system together and then attached themselves to a safety line, which in turn
was attached to the automatic winch at the front of the snow machine. They then
walked along the hardened ice surface of the lake. The three sharp bases of the
tripod slid along the ice like skates.

Sam held out a
GPS in his hand and watched as it picked up more than six satellites, providing
it with the maximum accuracy. Satisfied that he was directly over the
coordinates that Billie had left them Sam began to screw a round hook into the
ice. “Okay, this is the spot.”

Tom stepped
forward and attached the second tether to the hook. Waiting for the automatic
winch to take up some tension with the ice, he started his power saw. “Here
goes.”

In a slow and
definitive motion Tom cut four lines in the foot-thick ice. Despite his cutting
through it, the ice remained solid.

Sam looked at
him. “You ready for me to start the winch?”

“Go for it.”

Sam switched the
remote control and the tether began to slowly furl. A moment later the ice
pulled free, leaving an opening into the dark blue water eight feet by eight
feet. The large square block stood on the water’s edge and together, the two
men were able to push it to the side, allowing a clear run for any cable from the
opening.

Tom, focused on
the plan, immediately began bolting the base of the tripod to the sheet of ice.
He then tested it with the strength of his arms. Satisfied it would hold, the
two returned to the snow machine to be suited up.

Thirty minutes
later, each man was fully integrated within his ADS and ready to discover
whatever was waiting for them in the depths of Lake Cheko.

“Tom, how do you
read me?” Sam asked through the clear transmission of the advanced
communications system.

“Loud and clear.”

“Then let’s go
get whatever the hell it is Billie wants us to find so we can get out of these
damn atmospheric suits. I feel like the Michelin Man!”

Chapter Forty-Six

Sam stepped
forward with his large mechanical leg and into the hole they’d created in the
ice. His ADS machine was set to positive buoyancy so that he floated more like
a boat, with his spherical helmet remaining above the ice cold water.

Checking his
internal instruments, he gave the ‘all clear’ signal to Tom. “Okay, I’m
descending to ten feet to perform the first set of underwater safety checks.”

“Understood, I’ll
follow when you confirm all systems functioning.”

Sam decreased his
buoyancy by letting more water into his internal chambers, the same way a
conventional submarine manages buoyancy. Likewise, when he wanted to increase
buoyancy, he would simply blow out the excess water.

His ADS machine
quickly sank to ten feet, where he then balanced the system until he came to a
neutral stop. Below the ice, the world turned blue. It was frightening in its
rich beauty and lethal environment. Here, any malfunction in their equipment
would result in their deaths. No one knew they were here, and even if they did,
nothing could be done to rescue them if something went wrong.

Sam paused for a
moment and let the thought run through his mind while he enjoyed the surreal
view.

He adjusted his
position mildly. With each movement, he checked the responsiveness of the
individual articulations of his machine. It was relatively simple to use, and
as with normal diving, only took a short while to get the hang of maintaining
neutral buoyancy. Happy with the controls, he began running a systems check on
everything else.

Depth: 10 feet.

Distance to the bottom:
45 feet.

Air supply: 48
hours remaining – although he knew this number would rapidly change depending
on his depth.

Power: 6000 Amp
Hours.

External
temperature: 34 degrees Fahrenheit.

Internal
temperature: 80 degrees Fahrenheit – Sam carefully adjusted the thermostat,
reducing it to a more comfortable 74 degrees. Ice diving always tempted him to
set it higher than he needed.

“Okay, all’s good
here. Are you ready to go find out what’s so important about this place?”

“Sure am. Here’s
to beating Billie to Atlantis!”

Above him, Sam
saw the still surface of the water below the ice sheets turn white with
bubbles. The lake appeared upset by the disturbance, as though somehow its
perfect, deathly peace, had been interrupted by the presence of a functioning machine.

Tom maintained
his position on the surface for a few moments and then sunk to Sam’s depth. He
then rotated his position so that he was almost lateral, looking back up at the
frozen world above the ice. “That’s one hell of a view!”

“You can say that
again, Tom.”

Sam continued to
enjoy it, while Tom ran his system checks. A few minutes later he said, “I’m
good. Shall we go find our answers?”

“Let’s. I don’t
like the idea of becoming entombed below this ice if we spend too long down
here. So let’s not dawdle too much.”

“I’ll drink to
that,” Tom replied. “Preferably something warm and alcoholic.”

Sam laughed. “I’m
sure we can find you just such a drink in Siberia.”

They slowly
descended to 45 feet where the ground came up to come up to meet them. Sam stopped
five feet above the sediment. “Do you see anything?”

“Nothing more
than the bottom of an ice cold lake,” Tom said stopping next to him. “It doesn’t
make sense. How can they hide anything in 45 feet of water?”

“Maybe that fence
did a really good job to keep people out?”

“Not for over a
hundred years it didn’t. If Atlantis is here, then someone would have noticed
by now. Heck, even our guys wouldn’t have been able to keep that one secret.”

Sam lowered his
ADS machine to the ground. It seemed unsteady, almost wobbly. Tom followed.
Both men tried to take sediment samples. It would have been strong enough to
support a SCUBA diver, but the heavy ADS had more momentum. Something felt
wrong. Sam decreased his buoyancy and the unstable ground began to feel more
like a giant trampoline.

Beneath his
helmet, Sam grinned. “It’s not possible.”

“What’s not
possible?”

“I can’t believe
they got away with it for so long!”

BOOK: Atlantis Stolen (Sam Reilly Book 3)
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