Loch

Chapter 1

Gray clouds rolled in across the dark waters of the Irish Sea. Dane Maddock looked out at them, his guts twisting in a knot. The last thing they needed was another fruitless day of treasure hunting cut short by the inclement Scottish weather. It had been a risk taking on a job so far from home, but it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. He had a lot on his mind, and getting away from familiar places, and a few familiar people, had been too enticing an opportunity to pass up.

“Key West this place is not.” Bones Bonebrake folded his powerful arms over his chest and scowled at the dark horizon. “At least you won’t get sunburned, mister short, blonde, and pale.”

Maddock eyed the tall, deeply-tanned Cherokee. “When have you ever known me to sunburn, mister Coppertone?”

“Mister Coppertone! I like that.” Bones flashed a smile, but it quickly turned to a frown. “Wait a minute? Is that racist? I never know what I’m supposed to be offended by nowadays. I think I’m supposed to hate the Washington Redskins and that stupid ‘tomahawk chop’ that the Braves and Seminoles fans like to do.”

In the years since they’d served together in the Navy SEALs, Maddock had mostly grown accustomed to his friend’s cavalier attitude toward the sensibilities of his own race. Still, sometimes Bones managed to make him cringe.

Maddock grimaced. “Can we save that conversation for later? I’d like to get in one more dive — a quick in and out in case the storm doesn’t change direction.”

“I suppose. You sure you don’t want to knock off early? I want to try some real Scotch.” He gazed pointedly in the direction of the Scottish mainland. Bones’ lack of enthusiasm at the prospect of another dive underscored just how badly things had gone thus far. Ordinarily, Maddock couldn’t keep him out of the water.

“As soon as Matt and Willis get back, we’ll go in.”

No sooner had Maddock spoken than a pair of heads broke the surface. Willis Sanders and Matt Barnaby swam to the side of Sea Foam and hauled themselves on board. Willis was another former SEAL comrade, while Matt was an ex-Army Ranger.

“Man, I ain’t seeing a thing down there.” Willis, a dark-skinned, muscular man of almost a height with Bones, mopped the salt water off of his shaved head. “I hate to say it, but I think we might have come here for nothing.”

“Maybe,” Matt said, running a hand through his short, brown hair. “But even if the wreck of the Regal Crown isn’t down there, there are bound to be other wrecks waiting to be discovered. This place has seen centuries upon centuries of ship traffic. I think it might be worth expanding our grid and seeing what else might be down there.”

“Sure, take Maddock’s side.” Bones glanced at Willis. “Notice how the white people all stick together?”

“Hey, I’m on your side!” Corey Dean, the fifth member of the crew, called from the cabin. “I’m totally ready to pack it in for the day.”

“Gingers are a minority, too,” Willis replied.

“Bones and I are going to make one more run at it before the storm hits,” Maddock said. “We’ll take Matt’s advice and expand our search. We’ll head northeast and broaden the search parameters beyond our current grid.”

Bones frowned. “You want to go against the current? Seems like we ought to do the opposite.”

Maddock shrugged. “Our current grid is based on a projection of how far the Regal Crown would have drifted since its sinking. Maybe we overestimated the distance.” The Regal Crown was a British ship reputed to have gone down in this area in the late eighteenth century. Rumor had it there were gold and jewels belonging to a noble house on board. It had never been found.

“You mean, maybe I overestimated it?” Corey asked, once again poking his head through the cabin door.

“Yes, but I wasn’t going to say so.” Ignoring Corey’s profane reply, Maddock fixed his mask and regulator in place, sat down on the deck rail, and flipped backward into the water. His tensions eased as he plunged into the welcome depths. A splash in his peripheral vision moments later told him Bones was right on his tail.

Enveloped by the cool water, they swam hard against the weak current. It wasn’t long before they had passed beyond their marked search area. He knew they shouldn’t go too far afield. Time was short and to venture out too far would be an unnecessary risk. Maddock gave Bones the signal, and they dived.

This stretch of seabed looked no different than any other section they had explored that day. Maddock swam at a steady clip, sweeping the beam of his headlamp back and forth. The circle of light roamed over sand, rock, and vegetation, but nothing of interest. They continued on, staring balefully down at their relentlessly ordinary surroundings until Maddock was ready to call it a day. He was about to turn back when Bones caught his attention and pointed off to their right.

Swimming in the direction Bones indicated, the two men soon found themselves looking down into a crevasse. At first, Maddock saw little of interest, but then he realized that what he’d initially taken for gray stone was, in fact, metal. As they drew closer, Maddock recognized it for what it was — the conning tower of a German U-boat. A spark of excitement flared inside of him. He doubted it would hold any treasure, but the history buff in him couldn’t resist taking a closer look.

They swam along the length of the submarine, taking in its well-preserved lines. Maddock could clearly make out the deck gun, conning tower, and the periscope, all encrusted in a century of marine growth. It was a UB, a World War I German submarine. He’d never seen one in person and was fascinated by it.

He spotted a jagged gash in the starboard side, wide enough for a diver to swim through. Heading down for a closer look, Maddock was puzzled to see a series of smaller cuts, scrapes, and indentations all around the tear. Some were punctures, almost as if something had bitten through the hull. Of course, that was impossible. He wondered what sort of weapon would leave such oddly shaped holes.

He tried to form a mental image of the submarine’s last minutes. Probably it had surfaced for some reason and come under fire from a surface vessel. The punctures must be the result of machine gun bullets. But what had caused it to sink? Not such small arms fire, to be sure. A larger shell must have struck the submarine, causing it to take on water. The scrapes and the large tear in the side would have likely been caused by the rocky side of the crevasse as the dying boat slid down to its final resting place.

He glanced at his dive watch. They hadn’t been down very long and had plenty of air left, but he had no idea what the weather on the surface was like. He glanced at Bones.

As was often the case, his friend knew exactly what Maddock was thinking. Bones nodded and then pointed emphatically at the hole in the sub. The message was clear—let’s check this thing out.

They swam slowly, careful not to stir up too much silt, which would cause virtual whiteout conditions, rendering them near blind.

As they moved forward, he marveled at the many sights he’d seen only in photographs. Inside the control room, a myriad of handles, like steering wheels, jutted out from the walls. He spotted a pair of gauges, and carefully wiped the grime from their surfaces. One measured depth, the other, fuel. Nearby, a small manhole afforded access to the periscope well.

Bones spotted the voice pipe. Predictably, he removed his regulator and began mouthing words into the trumpet-like end, sending up a stream of bubbles. Laughing internally, Maddock made a circular gesture to tell his friend they needed to hurry up and finish their exploration before it got too late. They didn’t want to run out of air down here.

They passed through the electrical control room, the engine room, and into the torpedo room. Oddly, the sub appeared to still be fully armed. The attack that sank it must have come suddenly for the sub not to have fired any of her deadliest weapons.

They completed their exploration, picking up a few artifacts — coins and the like — but nothing of great value. Bones paused on the way out and gave the sub’s damaged hull a close inspection. Maddock wondered what had drawn his friend’s interest, but when he swam closer, Bones turned and waved him away.

When they returned to their boat, the Sea Foam, Maddock was relieved to see that the storm had, indeed, changed directions. The sun was setting to the west, and the first hint of evening’s approach was painted purple on the eastern horizon, but the clouds had fled, leaving behind clear skies and balmy seas.

“Y’all find anything good down there? You were gone a while,” Willis said.

Maddock recounted the discovery of the U-boat and showed them the items he’d collected.

“It was cool,” he finished, “but I can’t say we found anything of much interest.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Smiling, Bones reached into his dive bag, took out something large and dark, and held it out for the others to see.

“What in the hell,” Willis marveled, “is that?”