Kristoff's happiness was really contagious. The return to the base was one of the most cheerful of all time and it surpassed even the joy of Spanish gold discovery. The entire crew chattered and laughed, already looking forward to the hangover that would follow after the opening of the strongbox.
Once back, Kristoff was greeted as a hero in the bridge. The team that had remained at the base greeted him, giving him pats on the shoulder and yelling things like "Who is the best man of the world?", "We did it!" and "You are awesome , boss!". All of that only served to increase Kristoff joy, in addition to the redness of his face, although he blamed it on the heat of that beautiful spring day and on the sun beating upon them.
As soon as he freed himself from his colleagues, he hurried to observe the recovery of the safe. They used some cables suitable for the recovery that managed to bring it out shortly after their arrival. Its reemergence, after nearly 85 years, was greeted with many applauses and touched the blond guy .
"I may cry. " He said, in a whisper.
Sven, who didn't left his side since the surfacing, looked at the sky. His companion had always been very sensitive. The first time that the name 'Kristopher Bjorgman' emerged in the local newspaper with the eulogies for the discovery of some personal effects of a duke of '700, the young man busted into tears and he calmed down only after drinking a couple of camomile tea and a glass of gin. His happiness hit the roof and he didn't blink at the fact that his name had been misspelled. The article was obviously framed and even today (Sven knew it well ) when Kristoff passed near it, he wiped a fugitive tear.
"Here. Take this." He handed him a tissue. Kristoff blew his nose loudly.
The safe was placed on the deck and immediately surrounded by specialized staff, who began working to open it and to reveal its contents. The sound of their chainsaws hung over the whispering of the present, too much excited to utter more than a few bumpy words.
Kristoff took a deep breath, savoring the smell of salt air and fresh air around him. His heart was beating so fast that he was surprised no one else could hear it. He turned to Sven who had his eyes fixed on the safe, just as anxious as he was, with the bottle of champagne ready in his hand.
When the sound of saws stopped, he turned his head with a pretty strong twitch, ignoring the sudden pain in his neck. The technicians tied a metal hook to the box and began to yank it hard until they finally managed to unhinge it.
The safe was opened .
Without wasting time, Sven uncorked the bottle, greeted by cheers and other excitement screams, while Kristoff approached in a hurry and held his breath again.
From the case began to come out a certain amount of water and dirt. Along with them, there were also what looked like ruined sheets and a smaller box that, in a few seconds, Kristoff identified as a sketchbook.
He bowed and began to rummage through the compartments of the safe, removing dirt, mud and the remains of the other paper sheets. He kept searching intensely with growing anxiety, until he reached the top shelf.
It was empty.
Kristoff couldn't understand . It had to be there, he was absolutely certain!
But what appeared to be a dive that would have changed history, apparently turned out to be just a big failure and a waste of resources.
He swore.
"It isn't here." He managed to say.
Sven went immediately next to him, shocked, looking for it too. But the hopes were gone. With his dirty, wet and smelly hands, he rest kneeling on the ground, stunned.
"No diamond uh?" Said Sven after checking himself.
And trying to ease the tension , he said: "You know, actually it's not our worst dive. Do you remember when we recovered another sealed canister and the only thing we found inside was that crabby crab? I'm still wondering how it had managed to get in. I wanted to keep it as a pet, but you've throw it in the sea. They should make a new Olympic sport, something like "The Shot Crab". I had never seen anything flying so far."
"Sven, if you don't want to be thrown yourself into the sea, I would recommend you to shut up."
Frustrated, he got up.
The team brought the contents of the safe inside, while Kristoff allowed himself a cigarette and a black coffee. After all, he wasn't so sure that the diamond was there. It was just the most obvious thing to think. It could be in a thousand of other unexplored places: among the debris of the suite, in the room next door, in some other safe... in the stomach of some fish... no, he had to be positive.
Once he had calmed down, he went back into the cabin and joined the others.
He didn't have time for making a few steps inside the cabin that suddenly something caught his attention. A member of his crew was examining the sketchbook they had just found. One of the drawings he was trying to bring to light showed a woman, apparently naked and hand-drawn with crayons, wearing…
No, it couldn't be true.
"Let me see that!" He said, almost shouting, coming closer.
The man, confused, stepped aside to give Kristoff a better view.
She was wearing a heart-shaped necklace that he would have recognized anywhere, even with his eyes closed.
He began to search in the pockets of the jeans he was wearing, where he retrieved a crumpled sheet; he opened it and looked at it with vigor, revealing the photo of a blue diamond. He compared it with the necklace in front of him, gasping , and...
"Holy Reindeer. It's him."
The unmistakable fifty-six carat diamond he was so desperately trying to recover for three years.
Below in the drawing, there was written a date: '14th April 1912 '.
There were no more doubts.
"It's the Heart Of The Ocean."
Meanwhile, in California, an elderly lady was sitting on the porch, working with ceramics. The only sounds were produced by the machine she used to work. In the background, there was also a faint chirping that came from outside and the unheard sound of the TV in the living room next door.
A light breeze ruffled her white and smooth hair while the scent of spring pinched her nose. In the piece of furniture near the TV, there was a series of photographs. The first picture looked very old: it was black and white and it portrayed a young woman sitting on a chair. The woman had light hair, probably blond, and she was composed sitting with her back straight and a slight smile on her face. Next there was another one, just as old, of a family. From their clothes it could be deduced that they came from a high-class ambience. Behind them there were another couple of photographs, in color, much more recent, where an elderly woman was next to some people, probably the children and grandchildren. The same old woman sitting on the veranda next there. She was so focused on her work that she didn't hear a young woman approaching her, holding a porcelain cup.
"Granny Elsa, I brought the tea."
Elsa almost startled at the sound of the voice of her niece, a youngster who had inherited the beauty of the light-haired woman of the photo.
"Oh thank you, dear Joan." Elsa thanked.
Joan had platinum blonde hair, blue eyes like ice, identical to those of the grandmother. Her body was so perfect that it seemed to have been carved.
Now that Elsa attention had moved to her niece and the cup of tea, her ears could easily perceive the words audible from television. It broadcasted a special edition of the newscast that apparently was talking about something dealing with treasures.
"The well-known treasure hunter, Kristoff Bjorgman, has decided to reach the most famous shipwreck of all, the Titanic."
As soon as she heard " Titanic ", Elsa almost dropped the cup from which he had just sipped a bit of the hot drink.
She got up quickly, or at least as fast as the age could allowed her, and she approach the TV in the living room, Leaning on her walking stick.
A young blond haired with dirty and brown eyed, to all appearances quite muscular, was talking on the TV.
"Of course, everyone knows the events of the Titanic and his history. The nobility of the orchestra playing until the end and so on. But what I'm interested in are the untold things, the secrets locked deep inside the hull of Titanic."
Elsa move came to the attention of the niece, who approached her.
"What's the matter?"
"Turn that up, dear."
"I'm surrounded by valuable experts. Take a look at what we found just today: a piece of paper that's been under water for 84 years!"
The TV showed a drawing of a naked woman lying on a couch; she was wearing an heart-shaped necklace. The words continued to flow, but her concentration was all on that picture.
That stretch, that figure, that sketch... How could it survive? Yet there it was. Unmistakable. Her legs began to tremble.
"I'll be damned." She said.
She would have to see it with her own eyes. At all costs.
In the evening, Kristoff prepared himself for a final quick dive into the abyss depths. There were still a few preparations to be done, but before he could even think to provide the finishing touches, Sven came toward him, calling his name.
"Kristoff! There is a satellite call for you!"
"What? But we're about to dive!"
"I know this boss, but trust me, you can't lose it."
He puffed upset, but he couldn't do anything else but getting to the deck, where the phone was.
When he took it up, Sven warned him.
"Speak loudly, she's kind of old."
Kristoff snorted again, looking up to the sky and bringing the receiver to his ear.
"I'm Kristoff Bjorgman. How can I help you, Mrs..."
"Calvert, Elsa Calvert." Sven came in his aid.
" ... Mrs. Calvert?"
From the receiver a hoarse but cocky voice spoke.
"I was just wondering if you've already found the Heart of the Ocean."
At this Kristoff 's eyes widened. He looked at Sven, shocked. Sven replied with a wink and a look that was saying '"I told you that it was important".
"All right, Elsa. You have my attention. Can you tell us who the woman in the picture is?"
What Kristoff heard was so unexpected that it could not even seem a lie.
"Oh yes. The woman in the picture is me."
A/N: Hi everyone. We are here! Here's the second chapter, as promised. Thank you all for following my story, it makes me so happy!
A little news: I'll start publishing periodically also on AO3, with the same regularity.
So, see you next month.
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