The Hunters

54

They continued walking toward what seemed to be another grove of trees. Borovsky told them to wait before he went into a bordering thicket, stepping around a batch of trees whose branches seemed weighted down as though bearing heavy snows. The limbs formed a wall through which nothing was visible. It took Borovsky nearly a minute of ducking and maneuvering to make his way to the other side. Suddenly, there was a whoosh, and the branches snapped back as if the curtain had never existed.

From the team’s perspective, there didn’t appear to be anything ahead — not even the Russian colonel. There was only a solid, sunless black that seemed to go on forever.

Decebal flashed them his gap-toothed smile and followed, stepping into the entrance and vanishing as if a carnival magician had made him disappear. The Americans looked at each other with raised eyebrows and appreciative grins, then followed Anna into the darkness.

‘Some kind of spring release?’ McNutt asked, looking around in vain for a pedal or switch.

‘A prayer lock,’ Sarah said. ‘Four large branches on the bottom were twined together. That causes the smaller limbs and twigs to come together like hands folded in prayer. Cut the cord and the limbs snap back. The beauty of it is that it doesn’t cause the trees themselves to bend and give the site away, and it doesn’t cause any part of the adjoining trees to knit permanently.’

‘And it’s easy to reset,’ McNutt said admiringly, glancing behind to make sure that one of those ‘sentries’ wasn’t doing just that to keep them all inside.

They collected in a dark gray grotto. Sarah instantly produced a powerful, pen-sized flashlight, which she shined around them in a quick arc. Rock walls swelled up to a dome like a natural amphitheater. They stood on a stone pathway that was made of flat but unevenly edged slate obviously hacked from the walls. They could still see the scars, though some kind of crystalline film had collected over them.

‘No stalactities,’ Sarah said. ‘That’s a good sign.’

‘How so?’ Jasmine wondered.

‘There’s not enough water to drag down major mineral deposits. That means this is a very, very dry cave.’

Jasmine nodded in understanding. ‘And a dry cave is a great place to store a treasure.’

‘I didn’t know you had a geology degree,’ McNutt said.

‘I don’t,’ Sarah explained, ‘but I’ve been spelunking many times. It’s a good way to keep in shape.’

‘Over here,’ Anna said in Russian. Sarah pointed her powerful penlight in the direction Jasmine indicated, illuminating Decebal. He was standing beside what looked like two large cauldrons on their sides with three iron bowling balls between them — all attached by wires.

‘Electric generators,’ Cobb recognized.

‘Have to be at least sixty years old,’ McNutt estimated.

As they watched, the Romanian leader churned a crank on the front of the sideways pot farthest to their left, as if he were trying to start an old Model-T car. On the fourth turn, the engine caught and coughed to life. The group looked around as recessed lamps lining the middle of the rock ceiling began to flicker.

They found themselves in a breathtaking cavern of reddish granite and greenish coral, with cobblestones off to their far left and right. And stretched out deep into the cave, seemingly part of the walls, were eight blue and gold train cars and a small engine. On the side of each car was the Romanov seal: a double-headed eagle with a golden scepter in one claw and a cross-bearing orb in the other, while on its chest a red escutcheon depicted St George on his horse about to slay the dragon.

On the back of the last car was the most imposing mark of all: the coat of arms of the Russian Empire. It contained the helmet of Alexander Nevsky, fifteen shields representing the Russian Empire territories, the archangels Gabriel and Michael, and the Order of St Andrew — all residing on an oak and laurel wreath amid a golden ermine mantle, crowned by a golden cap, and liberally decorated by black, double-headed eagles. They flew around the inscription, which Jasmine translated as: ‘God is with us.’

‘He sure as shit is,’ McNutt said with a laugh. He wanted to say more — hell, he wanted to sing, and dance, and drink, and punch someone in the face for no reason at all — but Cobb had warned them about celebrating in front of Borovsky or any of the villagers, especially on a day when so many of them had died. He felt that would be in bad taste.

But they took a moment to celebrate internally.

The discovery of the train led to visions of their own personal paradises, made possible by the millions they were that much closer to collecting. They all understood that finding the train was only the first step. They knew they still had to get the treasure past Borovsky and the villagers before they could deliver it to Papineau. But that didn’t stop Sarah from imagining a well-funded climb of Mt Everest. Or Garcia from thinking about building a supercomputer that would make Microsoft jealous. McNutt’s fantasy was simple: he wanted to buy his own tank. Then he wanted to drive it across America, only stopping for beer and whores. Unlike the others, Jasmine tried to focus on the historic value of the discovery, but her mind slowly drifted to owning her own museum.

The looks on their faces said it all.

They were a happy group.

Amid the daydreams, Cobb allowed himself a moment to admire the contents of the cave before he began to assess the condition of the train. The engine was in solid shape and the cars looked sturdy enough. They clearly housed royal compartments, though the filigree on the exteriors was cracked, chipped, or broken. Obviously, the train had gone through storms and trials to arrive before being seized by what appeared to be the craggy, gripping fingers of the cave. Some of those fingers were gloved and mossy, some were skeletal and crystalline, and some looked as if hard, fleshy sponge had grown over them.

‘When I was a boy,’ Decebal explained through Borovsky and Jasmine, ‘my great-grandfather told me that when the train first arrived, they simply drove the cars inside and left them. They are safe in here. It is dry.’

Borovsky added, ‘They are kept in good repair but have not moved a millimeter since then. The prince took only what he absolutely needed and departed.’

‘Where are the rest of them?’ Sarah demanded.

Her sense of awe had passed like a total eclipse. She was now the thief, cataloguing inventory. She stood defiantly with her fists on her hips and looked to Jasmine for an explanation. ‘There were supposed to be twenty cars, right? Where are the others?’

Cobb smiled apologetically at Borovsky. ‘The prince was exiled by the tsarina, but he still had to be guarded on this dangerous trip.’

‘So?’ Sarah demanded.

‘If you were one of those guards, would you have done it for free?’

She groaned in understanding. ‘Jesus,’ she said. ‘Twelve cars?!’

‘No, not twelve,’ Borovsky informed her through Jasmine. ‘The Romanian treasure had already been looted by greedy politicians. That was one of the main reasons the prince wanted to take it away from Moscow. They were — they are — corrupt as the Devil. The prince personally selected the most important Romanian art, artifacts, and archives, then consolidated them in as few crates as he could.’

‘But what about the gold?’ Sarah demanded.

Borovsky seemed unhappy with her tone and opened his mouth to speak, but Cobb jumped in before the situation deteriorated.

‘Cool it, Sarah.’

She looked indignantly at Cobb, then another realization seemed to splash over her. They don’t know we’re here for the treasure. Her jaw shut with an audible click.

Cobb looked to Jasmine, who nodded with understanding in her eyes. Thankfully she had not been translating.

‘She is upset that the historical valuables have been lost,’ Jasmine told a dubious Borovsky and equally distrustful Anna. She glanced apologetically at their Romanian host, who was behind them, and then looked to see where Dobrev was. He had gone over to the train, where he was muttering words of comfort to the poor, old girl.

‘Viktor, Alexandru,’ Cobb said through Jasmine. ‘What did the prince do then?’

‘He left,’ Borovsky answered.

‘How?’ Cobb wanted to know. They looked at him in confusion. Cobb put his arm out toward the first car — the one farthest into the cave. ‘You said they drove them in. Did he drive any out?’

Decebal spoke from behind them, cautiously watching everyone.

‘He says his great-grandfather told him that the prince simply left,’ Jasmine reported. ‘He didn’t say how.’

Cobb looked to the train cars with a growing sense of curiosity. He motioned again at them. ‘May we?’

Jasmine passed on the request, adding her own declarations of respect, responsibility, and honor. Borovsky looked to Decebal, who nodded once. Borovsky turned back to Cobb and seconded the nod, adding, ‘We will examine it together, then we are leaving.’

Cobb smiled tightly. Both men clearly knew that was not going to happen. At least, not without a disagreement.

‘All right,’ Cobb said, turning to the eight railroad cars. ‘Calmly, respectfully, professionally. Let’s see what we have here.’

Cobb heard what sounded like someone cracking his knuckles behind him. He didn’t have to look back. He knew the sound of a gun hammer locking when he heard one.