Atlantis Found by Clive Cussler Read Free Book Online Page A

were parked outside. A pair of men were wearing wet suits and unloading what looked to Pat like diving equipment. “What can divers possibly be doing in the middle of the mountains of Colorado?” she asked vaguely.
    “I stopped and talked to them yesterday,” answered Ambrose. “They’re a team from the National Underwater and Marine Agency.”
    “A long way from the sea, aren’t they?”
    “I was told they’re exploring a complex system of ancient waterways that once drained the western flank of the San Juan Mountains. There is a maze of caverns that connect to the old mine tunnels.”
    Half a mile up the road, Ambrose passed a huge abandoned ore mill, where a large semitruck and trailer were parked beside the San Miguel River below the mouth of another old abandoned mine. Tents had been set up around the vehicles, and several men could be seen wandering about the camp. The sides of the big trailers were painted with words advertising the Geo Subterranean Science Corporation with home offices in Phoenix, Arizona.
    “Another bunch of scientists,” Ambrose volunteered without being asked. “A geophysical outfit, searching through the old mine shafts with fancy ground-penetrating equipment that is supposed to detect any veins of gold overlooked by the old miners.”
    “Think they’ll find anything?” asked Pat.
    Anbrose shrugged. “I doubt it. These mountains have been dug pretty deep.”
    A short distance later, Ambrose pulled to a stop in front of a picturesque little house and parked next to an old Chevy pickup truck. Marquez and his wife, Lisa, alerted to their coming, came out and greeted them, as Ambrose introduced them to Pat.
    “I envy you,” said Pat, “living amid such gorgeous scenery.”
    “Sad to say,” said Lisa, “that after a year you don’t notice it anymore.”
    “I don’t think I could ever become immune to it.”
    “Can I get you folks anything? A cup of coffee? A beer?”
    “I’m fine,” answered Pat. “I would like to see your discovery as soon as it’s convenient.”
    “No problem,” said Marquez. “We still have five hours of daylight left. More than enough time for you to see the chamber and get back before dark.”
    “I’ll have dinner waiting,” said Lisa. “I thought you might like barbecued elk.”
    “Sounds wonderful,” Pat said, already feeling the pangs of hunger.
    Marquez nodded his head at the old truck. “You folks will have a more comfortable ride up to the mine if we take your Jeep, Doc.”
    Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting in the ore cart, making the descent from the portal into the old Paradise Mine. It was a new experience for Pat. She had never entered a mine shaft.
    “It feels warmer,” she observed, “the deeper we go.”
    “As a rule of thumb,” explained Marquez, “the temperature increases by five degrees every hundred feet you descend into the earth. In the lower levels of the mine that are now flooded, the heat used to be over a hundred degrees.”
    The ore cart came to a stop. Marquez climbed out and dug into a large wooden toolbox. He handed Pat and Ambrose each a hard hat.
    “For falling rock?” asked Pat.
    Marquez laughed. “Mostly to keep your scalp from knocking against low timbers.”
    The dim yellow lights attached to the overhead timbers flickered overhead as they made their way through the damp tunnel with Marquez in the lead. When one of them spoke, the voice sounded hollow against the surrounding rock walls of the tunnel. Pat stumbled more than once on the ties holding the old rusting ore cart rails, but caught herself before falling. She hadn’t realized when she’d dressed earlier in the morning, before flying to Telluride, what a wise decision it was to wear a pair of comfortable hiking shoes. After what seemed an hour but was actually only ten minutes, they reached the cleft leading to the chamber and followed Marquez through the narrow passage.
    He stopped at the ladder and motioned upward to where a