find the senile one.' She looked at the old man again, imploring him. 'Beer el Sifsaaf? Nerede?'
The old man's brow furrowed in apparent confusion. 'Orada,'' he insisted, pointing down at the lake.
Reilly took a few more steps forward and took another look. From this vantage point, he could see the whole lake, including its western edge, which had been obscured by the forest at their earlier viewing point.
He turned to Tess, a small smirk breaking across his face. 'Oh ye of little faith,' he said.
'What's that supposed to mean?' she blurted. His fingers were calmly inviting her to join him. She looked at the old man, who nodded in eager agreement, then, confused, clambered over to Reilly and saw it too.
From this new angle, Tess could see, a mile or more away and cutting across the edge of the lake, a concrete causeway that stretched from one hilltop to another. The top of a dam.
'Oh my God,' she said.
Reilly had taken a notebook from his pocket and was now sketching a cross-section view of the hills with a line stretching between them for the surface of the lake. He then drew the rough outline of some houses at the bottom of the lake and showed the sketch to the old man, who took the ballpoint pen and made a large X at the bottom of the lake and said, '/Coy suyun altinda. Beer el Sifsaaf.'
Tess looked at Reilly and he showed her his rickety drawing. 'It's down there,' he confirmed.
'Underwater. This dam flooded the whole valley, the remains of the village with it. It's at the bottom of the lake.'
Chapter 57
With the old man sitting more comfortably now, Reilly guided the Pajero carefully down the bumpy and rock- strewn track until they reached the edge of the lake.
It was massive, the surface of its water as smooth and silky as glass. On the opposite shore was a line of posts, incoming power and telephone lines, he guessed, and probably a road in. From the dam itself, he could see a line of pylons striding northward over a range of hills and heading toward civilization. The dam and its artificial lake apart, civilization had not impacted this place. The surrounding woodlands and, higher up, bleaker mountain tops, none of it especially hospitable terrain, looked to him much as it must have looked to the Knights Templar who had passed this way seven hundred years ago.
They reached the dam and, relieved to be off die rough track and as eager now as Tess was to reach their destination, Reilly sped along the concrete roadway that ran across the top of the massive concrete structure. To their left, he saw a drop of at least two hundred feet. At die far end was a maintenance station, which was where the old man was guiding them.
As they drove across the causeway, Reilly's eyes scanned the edges of die lake and the ground above them. There was no sign of life, though he couldn't be sure; the tree cover was dense, the shadows providing ample cover for anyone who didn't want to be seen. He had been careful to keep an eye out for any signs of Vance since they had entered the final stages of their journey and hadn't seen anything that suggested any outside visitors in the area. The situation would probably have been different in the height of the summer tourist season, but right now, they seemed to be alone.
Not that any of that made Reilly feel any more comfortable. Vance had shown himself to be adept at staying one step ahead of them, and he'd shown a headstrong determination and resilience in pursuing his objective.
He was out there. Somewhere.
Reilly had used the time during the drive down to ask the old man if anyone else had asked about the village recently. Some awkward language acrobatics later, he understood from the old man that no one had asked about it, as far as he knew. Maybe we are running ahead of him, Reilly thought as he scanned the immediate grounds of the dam, looking for anything out of place before bringing the SUV to a halt alongside what appeared to be a small maintenance office.
A rusty white Fiat was parked outside. From here, he could see what appeared to be a road coming in from the other side. It appeared to be smooth and fairly new. 'If that's what I think it is,' he told Tess, 'we could've had a comfortable ride here in half the time.'
'Well, when we're done here,' she grinned, 'maybe we can have a smooth, fast ride out.' Her mood had changed immeasurably as she beamed at him before jumping out of the car to follow the old man, who was now greeting a younger man who had emerged from the small shed.
Reilly waited for a moment, watching her long-legged stride toward the two local men. She was incorrigible. What, he wondered, am I getting myself into with this woman? tic had suggested they call in their discovery and await the arrival of a team of specialists to handle the matter, assuring Tess he would do his utmost to make sure the find was hers. She hadn't batted an eyelid before summarily dismissing his suggestion and imploring him to hold off. Despite his better judgment, he had relented, bowing to the sheer force of her enthusiasm. She was going all the way on this, and even went so far as to insist he stayed off the satphone for now, at least until she'd had a chance to take a look herself.
Tess was already in earnest conversation with the young man, an engineer whose name was Okan. He was small and slender with dense black hair and an overgrown mustache, and, from the grin plastered on his face, Reilly could see that Tess's charms were already overwhelming any reluctance the man might have in helping them. Okan spoke some English, which also helped.
Reilly watched with interest as Tess explained that they were archaeologists with an interest in old churches, specifically the one beneath the surface of the lake. The engineer had explained that the valley had been flooded in 1973—two years after Tess's map was drafted. The dam now provided most of the electric power for the thriving coastal region to the south.
Her next question to the engineer stopped Reilly in his tracks. 'You must have diving equipment here, right? For checking the dam.'
Okan appeared to be as surprised as Reilly. 'Yes, we do,' he stammered. 'Why?'
She brushed any doubt aside. 'We'd like to borrow some.'
'You wish to dive and look for this church?' he asked, his face shrouded in confusion.
'Yes,' Tess replied sprightly, raising her hands expansively. 'It's a perfect day for it, isn't it?'
The engineer glanced at Reilly and at the old man, unsure of what to make of this. 'We have some equipment, yes, but it is used only once or twice a year,' he said hesitantly. 'It will need checking, I don't know if —'
She jumped right in. 'My colleague and I can check them out. We do it all the time. Shall we follow you?' Reilly looked at her uncertainly. She shot him back a look of utter confidence. He was still pondering her wild suggestion that they were both trained divers. He didn't know about her, but he had nothing more than the most rudimentary basic training underwater. Still, he wasn't about to put a damper on her parade—not here, not in front of the two strangers. He was curious to see where her determination would lead.
Okan was decidedly uncomfortable with the idea. 'I'm not sure, I— I'm not authorized to do anything like that.'
'Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine.' She flashed that smile again. 'We'll sign a waiver, of course,' she assured him. 'It'll be entirely our responsibility. And, obviously, we're very happy to pay a fee to . . . the company—for the use of the equipment.' The pause before she said 'the company' was perfectly timed.
Any shorter and Okan could've missed it; any longer and he might've been insulted at such a clumsily implied bribe.
The little man studied her for a moment, then his mustache twitched and he shrugged. 'Okay. Come with me. Let me show you what we have.'
* * *
A narrow staircase led down from the office into a dusty storeroom that was haphazardly piled with equipment and hazily lit by a fluorescent lamp that flickered and buzzed. In the blue glow, Reilly could discern an arc-welding set, butane gas bottles, an oxy-acetylene burning rig, and, in the far corner, a heap of diving gear.
He left it to Tess to sort through them, and, as she hefted each piece of equipment, it seemed like she knew what she was doing.
'It's not state of the art, but it'll do,' she said, shrugging.
She hadn't been able to find a dive computer, though, which they'd have to manage without. She saw a dive chart on the wall and asked Okan how deep the lake was. He told her he thought it was a hundred, maybe a
