The Romanov Ransom

34

The brook was about half an hour’s walk from Gustaw’s cabin, starting from beneath a pile of large rocks and rubble that looked as though someone had set explosives in order to close off a cave entrance. They moved past the rocks to the other side of the ridge, where Gustaw nodded toward the top. “Up there.”

Sam shielded his eyes from the sun, seeing scattered birch trees that had taken hold in the barren rocks.

“You see the one birch,” Gustaw said, “about twenty feet up? From here you can’t tell, but up there, at its base, you can hear the water running below. There’s a space between the rocks next to the tree. I think it’s an air shaft. Possibly a better way in than removing all these rocks down here at the base to open it up.”

Sam turned back to the solid rock cliff, looking up at the tree and the possible air shaft. “Some reason you haven’t gone in before now?”

“I have no idea if it leads anywhere or if it’s simply a cavern. Mostly, I haven’t had the heart. Not since Renard was killed. We were going to go down together. Now…” He looked away, not saying anything for several seconds. The only sounds were the birds chirping around them and the leaves rustling overhead in the breeze. “You’re here now. I say we go in.”

They climbed to the top, and though Sam would have preferred to anchor off the trees higher up, the rope he’d brought wasn’t long enough for a simple two-line rappel, especially after he cut off a six-foot section to improvise a harness.

Returning his attention to the air shaft at the base of the lone tree, he decided it looked more natural than any man-made opening. Still, as Gustaw had described, they could hear the water running below.

Remi pushed against the birch. “You think it’ll hold our weight?”

He kicked at the papery white trunk, feeling a slight vibration beneath his boot. Though thin, the tree seemed to be solidly rooted. “I think so,” he said, grateful that both Sergei and Gustaw were experienced climbers. “I’ll go first.”

Years of fallen leaves cushioned the floor, the scent of must and mold rising with each step as Sam turned around to examine the cavern. Sunlight filled the shaft but also filtered in through the few cracks near the bottom where Gustaw had removed some of the rocks from what had once been the entrance. Behind him, water trickled down the rock wall, then disappeared below into a crevice.

Sam turned again. If there had been a cavern, it looked like the explosion had sheared off a massive wall of rock across it. His first inclination was that they’d reached a dead end. But as he shined his flashlight around, he saw darkness at the top of the rock wall, making him think the cavern continued on the other side.

“Everything okay?” Remi called down.

He looked up, saw her silhouetted at the shaft opening above him. “Fine. Come on down. Not much here. Hoping there’s something deeper inside.” After an easy climb up to the top, he swept his light across the area. All that was left of the cavern entrance was a V-shaped passage leading off into the darkness. That’s what told him there was more to see, and he waited for the others to climb down. Once there, Sam led the way, over the broken rock, past all the destruction from the explosion, then into the narrow opening that eventually widened into a fully finished tunnel. Twin steel rails of train tracks emerged from the rubble behind them, continuing on into the tunnel, where they disappeared into the darkness. The size and scope of the tunnel reinforcements gave Sam pause, trying not to think of the horrors suffered by the men forced to build it. The others must have felt the same. No one spoke as they followed the tracks until they ended at the entrance of two separate tunnels.

“Which way?” Sergei asked.

Sam shined the light down the right tunnel, noting the bricked arch and supports as far as the eye could see. The left was about the same size but had not been reinforced. “Good question.”

“The left,” Gustaw said, checking his compass. “That seems to be the general direction of the castle. Maybe it even leads there.”

“What about the right?” Sergei pointed that direction. “At least it’s finished.”

“Actually, neither,” Remi said from behind them. All three turned. Remi was pointing toward something on the wall. What at first glance appeared to be an uneven portion of the reinforced bricked tunnel wall was actually a sliding door set on a rusty track. The brick was carefully layered over it as camouflage.

“Good eye,” Sam said, returning to her side. He pushed, then leaned into, the door, but it held firm. When Sergei joined him, the door squealed in its track, finally opening. Sam handed his flashlight to Remi. “You found it. You get the first look.”

Remi entered, and Sam nearly ran into her when she stopped short. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“There’s a dead guy on the ground.”