LAST ASSAULT ON OAK ISLAND 35

Chapter 35

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Monday passed slowly for Lauren, Carlos, and Rudy. The day's mild temperatures varied little until evening when a cool breeze interrupted the tranquil warmth.

Rudy hosted one tour for the lighthouse although two were scheduled. The real interest was on the Yearbright grounds where the pit was roped off from an ever increasing crowd.

Bulldozers had taken off another layer of earth, bringing the level to a mere fifty feet above the buried cache. From there a bulldozer dug a slope aimed downward at the treasure. The steady drone of heavy equipment could be heard across the small island, but it was not as loud or irritating as the core sampling had been.

Lauren tried to concentrate on Carlos' dictation, but could not keep her mind from wandering. They spent the morning translating more of Brielle's account in northern waters. Most of the entries concerned his growing paranoia over the crew and the increasing problem with rats on the ship.

Already that morning James Neeley's secretary had phoned, approving Carlos Sheldon's permit to lease Lots 7–10. Carlos thanked her, but withdrew his request. Now they were waiting to hear from Otis Neeley.

Maruso showed up shortly before dinner with a fax and priority mail in hand. All were from Stends and attorneys for the museum. While Carlos sorted these out, Lauren finished making dinner and kept an ear open to the changes in noise coming from the Yearbright operation.

The radio was full of news every hour, updating the progress and repeating Lucy's statement from Sunday. No new report made the airwaves until Rudy's clock chimed five. At the same time, the bulldozing ceased abruptly.

". . . Rescue operations are underway at the Clemens' Borehole 12B where one man is trapped twenty-five meters beneath the ground," the radio announcer interrupted a commercial break. "Michael Smith has the details."

Lauren stared at the radio dumbfounded until the steam from the pan of lasagna reached an uncomfortable degree. She had just lifted the foil covering to check the dinner, but now dropped the tin foil. She slid the pan onto the stove top and nursed her burnt finger.

"Fool," Maruso said with a grating sigh, sitting back in a kitchen chair.

"I'm here at Borehole 12B of the Clemens operation, the second of two treasure hunting companies working Oak Island's notorious Money Pit," Smith's voice came over the radio. "We have no official report yet as to how Saul Clemens got caught in the tunnel shot off from the main shaft twenty minutes ago, but every attempt is being made at rescue. A couple of stories are circulating, and they all seem to have one fact in common.