The Parsifal Pursuit

by Michael McMenamin

  57.

  Mattie Explains

  Castle Lanz

  Thursday, 11 June 1931

  MATTIE was surprised to see her tent flap closed. She was certain she had left it open when she left. As she approached the tent, she sensed the presence of someone else and froze for a moment, her only thought that it might be Hoch. The hell with it, she thought. She knew a scream would bring Sturm to her rescue. She stepped into the tent, stopped and stared in open-mouthed amazement. “Bourke! Why are you here? My god! What‘s happened to your face?”

  Cockran put a hand to his face, touching the gash on his right cheekbone and smiled. “Whoa, slow down. Keep your voice low. First things first,” Cockran said as he stepped forward and took her in his arms. “I got your letter. Let me explain about Harmony.”

  Mattie returned his embrace and held him tight, kissing his cheek. “Bourke, I don‘t care about you and Harmony. I love you so much. I‘m not giving you up without a fight.”

  Cockran grinned and ducked his head, the light brown hair falling over his forehead in a familiar comma. “There‘s not going to be a fight. No matter what you may have thought, we‘re not breaking up. Not if I have anything to say about it. You‘re the one I love. I‘m sorry if I hurt you. Nothing happened with Harmony. Honest. I can explain that birthmark business. Really.”

  “I don‘t care about your birthmark or what happened between you and Harmony.” Mattie hugged him tighter. “I love you so very, very much,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. She pulled back and touched her hand gently to his forehead and cheeks, running her hands over the now healing cuts. “What in hell happened ?”

  “Right now, we‘ve got more than that to worry about. Are you okay?”

  “I‘m fine,” Mattie said, and then started to cry. “No, I‘m not. It‘s been terrible. We were attacked on the train; then again in Egypt; even ambushed yesterday. Something called the Brotherhood. Every morning I wake up knowing someone is out there trying to kill me.”

  “Campbell mentioned them. I‘ve been here twenty minutes. Where have you been?”

  “I was walking down by the lake. I‘ve been having a hard time sleeping. I‘ve had nightmares almost every night. So when they wake me, I go for walks until I‘m sleepy again and, hopefully, too tired to dream,” Mattie said, surprised at how easily the half-lie came to her lips. She paused. “But how on earth did you find me? Why are you here?”

  “To rescue you. You‘re in danger from people in your own party. This Spear of Destiny business is a lot bigger than you ever imagined. Besides, after I got your letter, I wasn‘t sure you‘d still want to come to me in Venice. So I decided to come to you.”

  They talked quietly for at least half an hour, Mattie doing the listening, interjecting a question here and there. She couldn‘t believe it. Joey Thomas dead. A plot to kill Hindenburg. Kurt an agent of the Kaiser! Mattie was horrified. My god, what had she gotten herself into?

  “It gets worse,” Cockran said.

  “What do you mean?” Mattie asked. “How could it possibly get worse?”

  “Reinhard Hoch, that‘s what‘s worse,” Cockran replied.

  “That bastard? He‘s probably a Nazi.”

  “Worse. He‘s SS. He‘s the one who had Sir Archibald Hampton killed, Harmony kidnapped, and their plants sabotaged. All at the behest of our old friend, Wesley Waterman,”

  “I can believe that about Hoch,” Mattie said and then she paused.

  “But it can‘t be true about Kurt. He saved my life and risked his own. If he meant me harm, I wouldn‘t be here.”

  “Maybe. Perhaps Joey‘s intelligence is faulty, but Hoch is a different story. I don‘t know who those other men are who have been trying to keep your expedition from finding the Spear, but I know from recent experience what the SS are capable of. And there are eighteen well-armed SS men on horseback who will be here shortly. You‘ve risked your life too many times for this story. You‘ve got to leave with me now. Before the SS arrive.”

  Mattie smiled and reached out her hand to touch his cheek. “Cockran, I love you. I know you only want to keep me safe and I love you for that, too. But your face is living proof that you haven‘t been out there avoiding risk yourself. Look, Hoch by himself won‘t be a problem.” she said. “Not after I tell Kurt about him. He can handle Hoch. But if you‘ve got Rankin, Bobby and two more Apostles on the other side of the ridge, why can‘t you set up a defensive perimeter here in the camp to hold off the SS and the other ones after the Spear?”

  “We probably could, but why wait? Why not just leave with me now?”

  “Bourke,” she said, “I can‘t. We‘re almost there. I have to do this. I have to find the spear. It’s not only for the story. It‘s for my father. I owe it to him and his memory. You know what your father was to you. Mine was the same to me. The Spear of Longinus meant as much as the Holy Grail for him. I can‘t quit now. I just can‘t. Give me one more day. Please. Sturm has good men with him. We can‘t leave them and our Austrian porters to the tender mercies of the SS. It wouldn‘t be right. Please. With you and the Apostles watching our backs, we‘ll have enough time to see if the spear really is in this castle. If we find the spear, flying out of here will be the safest thing we can do. One more day is no bigger risk than what you told me you and Bobby were doing in Germany.”

  Cockran shook his head, smiled and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. You win for now. As the Big Fella used to say, ‘Always retreat in the face of a superior force.‘”

  Mattie laughed. It felt good to laugh again with the man she loved.

  “Here‘s the plan.” Cockran said. We‘ll set up a new defensive perimeter. Let Sturm know what we‘re doing but don‘t let him know we‘ve been tipped on the Kaiser. Only the SS. Got it?”

  “Yes.” Mattie hesitated. This might ruin things but it wasn‘t right to keep it from him. No more lies. There was never going to be a good time to tell him. “Wait, there‘s something you need to know,” Mattie said. “About Kurt and me. When I thought you and Harmony ….”

  Cockran put a finger to her lips. “Don‘t,” he said. “It doesn‘t matter. I love you. He saved your life. You thought I had fallen for Harmony. Whatever happened after that we can sort out later if you really want to. Getting you safely out of here tomorrow is all that matters.”

  Mattie fought back tears. How she loved this man. “I‘m so sorry I ever doubted you.”

  Relieved, she composed herself. It still wasn‘t going to be easy telling him about Kurt, but she allowed herself a ray of hope. Maybe it wouldn‘t ruin things after all.

  “Okay,” Mattie said. “We‘ll talk about it later. I‘ll talk to Sturm tonight. But only about the SS. I won‘t let on I know anything about the Kaiser. If we find the Spear, I have no doubt Campbell will go with us for safety‘s sake alone. There are only so many places the Spear can be, and if we don‘t find it tomorrow, then I don‘t believe it‘s here. The Professor is a big boy and I think we can persuade him to come with us. Either way, I‘m going with you. If we don‘t find the Spear tomorrow, I‘m going to need your autogiros to check out those other two castles. With or without Campbell and definitely without Kurt von Sturm. ‘Better safe than sorry‘ is my new motto. Trust me.”

  Cockran laughed.

  58.

  Did You Find Mattie?

  Castle Lanz

  Thursday, 11 June 1931

  COCKRAN made his way in the darkness back over the ridge to the camouflaged autogiros, elated he had found Mattie safe, even more elated to learn that they still had a future. But inside, deep inside, his heart ached. Had she slept with Sturm? Was that what she had tried to tell him about “Kurt”? Was that why she was so positive he meant her no harm? He didn‘t want to think about it. He had to focus on getting them out of there. But it was hard.

  It was his fault, Cockran thought, if she had been driven into the arms of another man. He knew Mattie had been with other men before him. But after tonight, he damn well intended to be
the last and he was going to have to banish any thoughts of her having slept with Sturm. After all, it‘s not as if he were in any position to cast the first stone. He had been no saint when it came to Harmony. It easily could have gone a lot farther than it did.

  Cockran was nearing the camp when, suddenly, a bright light was switched on, temporarily blinding him. He raised his hand to shield his eyes and felt strong arms reach from the darkness to grab him from both sides. Instinctively, he leg-tripped the man on his right and smashed his elbow back into the nose of the one on his left, drawing his Webley and placing it against the man‘s temple. Then the light swung away from him.

  “Drop your weapon or the woman dies” a voice from the darkness said and the light focused on a man clad in black with a Luger pressed against Harmony‘s very white and frightened face. A bound and gagged Sullivan was seated on the ground beside her.

  Cockran placed the Webley down and the two men did a quick and efficient search of his body and bound his hands. They forcefully prodded him forward with the tips of their assault rifles until they were under the camouflage netting. He could barely make out the dim forms of Rankin, Sullivan, Harmony and the other two Apostles seated on the ground beside an autogiro, their hands bound behind them. Two other black clad men with assault rifles stood guard. They shoved Cockran onto the ground beside Sullivan.

  “What the hell happened?” Cockran asked.

  “They were good,” Sullivan said out of the side of his mouth. “Got McNamara while Harmony was changing his bandage. Blinded the rest of us with flashlights and took us down.”

  “SS?”

  “The same,” Sullivan replied.

  “I‘m surprised they didn‘t shoot first. Why did they take us alive?” Cockran asked.

  “The autogiros. The SS are going to assault the castle tomorrow and we‘re their air force if they need reinforcements. Then, they expect us to fly them and the spear to Germany.”

  “But there‘s no one in the castle now,” Cockran said.

  “We know that. They don‘t. They need us alive to fly those things. No need to give them a reason to change their minds. Did you find Mattie?”

  “Yes. She‘s safe now but she‘s not going to be if we can‘t get out of this.”

  “You have a plan?” Sullivan asked.

  “Silence!” an SS guard shouted and kicked Sullivan hard in the ribs.

  “Don‘t worry, I‘ll think of something.” Cockran said after the guard walked away.

  “Wake me when you do.”

  59.

  The Spear

  Castle Lanz

  Friday, 12 June 1931

  MATTIE, Sturm and Campbell, along with two of Sturm‘s men, returned to the castle after an early breakfast. Campbell made a bee line for the Great Hall with Sturm and Mattie close behind. Warned by Mattie about the SS, Sturm posted his men on the castle battlements.

  “But why was a castle built here?” Mattie asked as she took another photograph.

  “Precisely because the ridge dictated the trapezoid shape,” Campbell replied. “The only way to approach the castle is from the small end of the trapezoid, the south. Any attacker would have to concentrate his force there. Yet the defender could array his archers halfway down the eastern and western walls, catching the attackers in a cross-fire. Meanwhile, those who made it through the arrows to the gate in the south wall would find rivers of boiling oil flowing down on them. The archers would then ignite the oil with flaming arrows.”

  Light from the morning sun flooded the Great Hall as Campbell went straight to the fireplace, which was large enough, over eight feet high, for several men to stand inside. He went inside the fireplace and began feeling the stones with expert fingers. Thirty minutes later, he had found nothing. Suddenly, one of the stones moved and Campbell eased it out. He did the same with a second stone, followed by a third and a fourth. Then he reached inside and pulled out a six-foot long, oblong shaped object covered in canvas and bound with aging leather straps.

  “How did you know to look there?” Mattie asked as she took several more exposures.

  “Most castles built by Frederick the Great had a hiding place for valuables. Usually it wasn‘t this close to the fireplace but I noticed yesterday the stone wasn‘t that thick elsewhere.”

  Mattie watched, camera working, as Campbell took the package over, placed it in the sunlight streaming in a tall window, undid the leather straps, unrolled the canvas and carefully lifted the lance. “The Spear of Destiny,” he said, “At last. Yes, yes, this is the Heilege Lance. See the four rows of binding here at the tip. The Roman nail from the Cross at its base?”

  Mattie wasn‘t so sure. “May I see it, please?” Mattie asked and the Professor handed it to her. She inspected the spearhead closely and without nearly the same reverence as Campbell before handing it back to him. She was right. It had been too easy.

  “Keep looking, Prof. That one‘s a fake. Just like the one in Vienna.”

  “I‘m quite sure you‘re wrong,” Campbell began. “That is the Heilege Lance. I would stake my professional reputation on it.”

  “Before you do, Geoffrey,” Mattie said. “Please look at the spearhead more closely.”

  Campbell looked carefully at the Spear once more, turning it over in his hands several times. At first, he said nothing, but the crestfallen look on his face spoke volumes. “The bindings. They‘re too evenly spaced on the spear tip. Above the sheath. On the true spear, the second and third row of bindings are closer to each other than they are to the top and bottom rows. On this one, the bottom three rows are equally separated. I don‘t know how I could have missed it. I saw what I wanted to see, which is fatal for a scientist. Thank you, Mattie. You saved my reputation. If you hadn‘t spotted that and I had gone back to civilization and published these results along with the photo….” He shook his head.

  “Well,” he said, putting the Spear down, “it‘s a nice souvenir but back to our labors. Let‘s finish the living quarters and then head back to the chapel.”

  “Why don‘t we split up?” Mattie said. “We can cover twice as much ground that way.”

  “Fine. That‘s a good idea,” Campbell said. “I‘ll start on the living quarters and you head for the chapel.”

  60.

  The Men in Hoods

  Castle Lanz

  Friday, 12 June 1931

  THE light of dawn brought visual signals among the Apostles. The SS had separated them into three pairs after they caught Cockran and Sullivan quietly conversing. They had moved them away from the aircraft and bound their feet as well as their hands. Murphy was next to McNamara and Sullivan next to Harmony—each pair guarded by an SS man seated on the forest floor about ten feet away with a cocked Luger aimed in their general direction.

  Cockran‘s back rested awkwardly against a narrow evergreen trunk as he sat beside Rankin, his hands hastily tied behind the back. The bonds around his ankles were loosely tied as well but Cockran had no way of slipping them without detection. He needed a diversion.

  Sullivan silently signaled to Cockran with his eyes that his feet were free, but not his hands. No one else had made that kind of progress. Sullivan‘s feet still appeared to be tied together, but his boots had an awkward bulge a couple of inches above the heel. The bonds were intact, but Sullivan‘s feet appeared ready to slip out of his boots entirely. Cockran guessed Sullivan was waiting for a distraction—or simply for the moment he actually freed his hands.

  Time was growing short. The fourth SS man was off somewhere in the trees. Sullivan sent the same signal again, a slow and deliberate movement of the eyes, accompanied by an audible exhale of breath—his hands were nearly free. Sullivan wouldn‘t waste time sending the same signal unless something had changed. He was close. There was a stirring in the trees behind him. Cockran could feel it. An otherwise innocuous sound that broke the monotonous tones of the forest. The kind of sound that only becomes recognizable after hours of immersion in an empty forest. Cockran‘s SS guar
d noticed it too. He rose to his feet, staring at the trees behind Cockran. He paused. Cockran could see the dilemma in his face, balancing the need to move against causing noise that would hamper his ability to hear that sound deeper in the forest.

  Sullivan‘s guard, the squad leader, spoke up. “Friedrich?”

  Friedrich, Cockran‘s guard, held up a hand to quiet the squad leader as he began walking toward the trees. Cockran looked at Sullivan. This was the opportunity he needed. The other guards kept their attention on Friedrich. Sullivan‘s legs squirmed as he worked on his bonds, his right palm making headway, sliding between loops.

  McNamara‘s guard noticed and barked a few sharp words at Sullivan, but he ignored them. Cockran watched Friedrich, walk carefully into the trees. Friedrich turned his head back again, once more gesturing to his partners to keep quiet when the back of his skull exploded in a splatter of blood and his tall lean body wilted to the ground. The other SS scrambled to their feet as Sullivan slipped free from his boots and headed towards the SS squad leader just as automatic gunfire erupted from every direction, hitting the SS with a lethal storm of bullets.

  Cockran freed his hands and feet and clawed his way around the tree for cover. The roar of gunfire ceased when he reached the tree. He saw Sullivan standing upright, the SS squad leader lifeless in his arms, his pistol now in Sullivan‘s hands. Three armed men emerged slowly from behind the trees, dressed simply in khakis and mountain gear flecked with twigs and greenery. Hoods concealed their faces in shadow. Automatic rifles held at the ready, they converged on the campsite in a circle. Sullivan swung to face them, still holding the dead SS squad leader under his armpits as an organic shield in front of him, backing up against a tree to keep the gunmen in front of him, the SS guard‘s Luger trained on the men in hoods.

  61.

  The Stables

  Castle Lanz