Lost City - Cussler Clive (читать книги полные TXT) 📗

"That may be sooner than you think," Paul said with a smile, and he began to describe his plan.

SEBASTIAN SEARCHED Austin with a rough hand, relieving him of his gun, and then ordered him to move toward the stairs. They climbed the stairway and went along the Y-shaped passageway and up the wooden ladder to the ice cavern. A loud hissing came from the cavern and a steam cloud obscured its opening. Austin closed his eyes against the hot swirling steam and when he opened them he saw a silhouette in the mist.

Sebastian called out to the figure. Emil Fauchard materialized from the steam cloud like a magician making his appearance onstage. When he saw Austin, his lips contorted in rage and his pale features writhed into a Greek mask of fury. Wrath boiled within him like hot oil and he seemed barely able to contain himself. Then his mouth softened into a mirthless smile that was even worse. He closed a nozzle valve on the hose he was holding and the steam dissipated. "Hello, Austin," he said in a knife-edged voice. "Sebastian and I hoped we'd meet again after you left our costume party without saying good-bye. But I must admit I expected you to go to the chateau to rescue your lady friend."

"I couldn't resist your warm snakelike personality," Austin said, his voice cool. "And I never did thank you for the loan of your plane. Why did you kill Lessard?"

"Who?"

"The plant manager."

"He had outlived his usefulness as soon as he drained the tunnels. I let him live until the last moment, letting him think he could stop the turbine and bring in outside help." Fauchard laughed at the memory.

Austin smiled as if he appreciated Fauchard's evil humor. He had to use all the self-discipline at his command to resist the fatal urge to tear the Frenchman's head off. He bided his time, knowing that he was in no position to take revenge.

"I saw your plane on the lake," Austin said. "It's a little cold for scuba diving."

"Your concern is appreciated. The Morane-Saulnier was exactly where you said it would be."

Austin glanced around the cavern. "You went through a great deal of trouble to flood this place," Austin said. "Why drain it again?"

The smile dissolved into a frown. "At the time, we wanted to keep Jules locked away from the prying eyes of the world."

"What changed your mind?"

"My mother wanted Jules's body back."

"I was unaware that the Fauchard family was so sentimental about its kinfolk."

"There's a lot about us you don't know."

"Glad I could make it to his coming-out party. How is the old boy?"

"See for yourself," Emil said, and stepped aside.

A section of wall had been melted and chipped away to create a blue grotto. Jules Fauchard lay on the raised platform like a human sacrifice to the god of the glacier. The body was on its side, curled up in a fetal position. Jules was still wearing his heavy leather flying

coat and gloves, and his black boots were as shiny as if they had just been polished. He wore a parachute harness, but the actual parachute had been ripped off by powerful glacial forces. Although the corpse had been locked in the ice for nearly a century, the cold had kept it well preserved. The skin on the face and hands had a burnished copper look and the heavy handlebar mustache was coated with frost.

The hawk nose and firm jaw on the frozen face matched the features of the man in the Fauchard family gallery. Austin was especially interested in the hole that had punctured the fur-trimmed leather aviator's cap.

"Nice of your sentimental family to give Jules a going-away present," Austin said.

"What are you talking about?"

Austin gestured toward the hole. "The bullet in his head."

Emil sneered. "Jules was on his way to see the pope's emissary when he was shot out of the sky," Emil said. "He carried documents that would prove our family's complicity in starting the Great War. He also wanted to offer the world a scientific discovery that would be a boon to all mankind. He hoped to avert war with his actions."

"Laudable and unusual goals for a Fauchard," Austin said.

"He was a fool. This is where his altruism landed him."

"What happened to the documents he carried with him?"

"They were useless, ruined by water."

"Then it was all a big waste of time."

"Not at all. Look. You are here. And you will wish that you were chained in the chateau catacombs when I am through." Emil pointed to the ragged edge of ice that framed the opening to the grotto. "See? The ice is already re-forming. In a few hours, the tomb will again be resealed. And this time you will be inside, keeping Jules company."

Austin's mind was racing.

Where the hell was Zavala?

"I thought your mother wanted the body."

"What do / care about the body? My mother won't always be in power. I intend to lead the Fauchards to their greatest achievements. Enough stalling. I'm not going to indulge your pathetic effort to forestall the inevitable, Austin. You stole my airplane and treated it shabbily, and have caused me a great deal of trouble. Get over there next to Jules."

Austin stayed where he was. "Your family didn't give a rat's ass about being blamed for the war. It was an open secret that you and the other arms merchants wanted the bullets to fly. It was something bigger than any war. Jules was carrying the formula for eternal youth."

A startled expression flashed across Emil's face. "What do you know?"

"I know that the Fauchards will destroy anyone who stands in the way of their goal of living forever." He glanced at. the frozen corpse of Jules. "Even a family member proved to be expendable when it came to the fountain of youth."

Emil studied Austin's face. "You're an intelligent man, Austin. Wouldn't you admit that the secret of eternal life is worth killing for?"

"Yes," Austin said with a wolfish grin. "If you're the one being killed."

"Your civilized veneer is wearing thin," Emil said with a chuckle. "Think of the infinite possibilities. An elite group of immortals imbued with the wisdom of ages could rule the world. We'd be like gods to the life-deprived."

Austin glanced at Emil's henchman. "What about Sebastian over there? Does he fit in with your group of elites? Or will he join the rest of the 'life-deprived," as you call them?"

The question caught Emil by surprise. "Of course," he said after a moment. "Sebastian's loyalty will earn him a place in my pantheon. Will you join me, old friend?"

The hulking man opened his mouth to reply but said nothing. He had caught the hesitation in Emil's voice and there was confusion in his eyes.

Austin twisted the verbal knife. "Don't count on living forever, Sebastian. Emil's mother wants you out of the picture."

"He's lying," Emil said.

"Why would I lie? Your boss here intends to kill me, no matter what I say. Madame Fauchard told me at the masquerade ball that she had ordered Emil to get rid of you. We both know Emil always does what his mother tells him to do."

A doubtful expression came to the bland face. Emil saw himself losing control of the situation.

"Shoot him in the arms and legs," he barked. "Make sure you don't kill him. I want him to beg for death."

Sebastian stood there, unmoving. "Not yet," he said. "I want to hear more."

Emil uttered a curse and snatched the gun from Sebastian's hand. He aimed at Austin's knee.