by Jason Walker
“I understand,” replied Von Sievers.
“Do you? Are you quite sure about that? Do you also understand the urgency, Colonel? Whenever the last time you slept was will also be the last sleep you have until you have some better news for me. You will return, you will return now, and you will send your men down into the tunnels until every last square foot of them are engrained into their eyes. Do you understand now, Colonel?”
“I shall return at once, Commander.” Von Sievers once again saluted. “Heil Hitler.”
Himmler returned the salute and uttered six words which would close this conversation. “Do not disappoint me again, Colonel.”
A few moments later he was back in the car and on his way back to the Tibetan plateau, knowing that any more mistakes would be the last ones he would ever have the chance to make.
The Colonel stood at the front of several rows of soldiers at the airfield as the cargo plane taxied towards them.
Chapter Five
A Small Village in Tibet.
Adnan, a small boy of fourteen years of age and wearing nothing more than rags was running down a narrow dirt road. He turned off on to a track and disappeared between two old houses. He approached the back door of one of them, his heart pounding and breathing heavily, and knocked. It wasn’t an ordinary knock, rather one with a specific rhythm. While he was waiting, he looked around to make sure he was not being watched. Everything seemed to be clear.
Finally, the old wooden door creaked open and inside, James McKinley, a young man in his early 20s stood looking down at Adnan.
“How the hell do you know…?”
Adnan cut him off. “You must let me in.”
“How did you know the knock?” demanded James.
“Let me in, I have something to tell you. You must leave the country immediately,” stuttered Adnan.
James grabbed the young boy by the arm and hauled him inside the house. With his back to Adnan, he started to pour himself a generous glass of bourbon. Adnan started garbling again.
“The monastery. It’s been breached. Everyone is dead. The Monks all committed suicide.
They refused to help the Nazis in whatever it is they’re looking for and rather than be tortured and punished, they all killed themselves. You have to leave the country now, Sir. Every foreigner is being arrested on sight by the SS and questioned.
James turned around and faced the boy.
“You seem tense. You need a drink,” he said, holding out his glass to Adnan.
The youngster lifted the glass to his lips, and, never having tasted alcohol before, took a big swig as if it was water. A split second later, he had bourbon running down his front, his nose, everywhere in fact but his throat. If he hadn’t been coughing so violently, he would have asked the older man how the hell people can enjoy the stuff.
“You’ll learn to appreciate it one day, Son,” said James, knowingly. “Now, start again, from the beginning, and for God’s sake, calm down.”
“The Nazis, they’re starting an expedition and will search for and round up all mountaineers. They know where you are, they know where you all are.”
James looked thoughtful.
“How fast are they moving along with these plans?”
“They’ll be here within one week, possibly sooner. You and your friends, you will all be captured if they find you.”
Adnan finally managed to start getting his breath back and had calmed down, slightly. “How is Hughes, is he still sick?”
James nodded.
“Yes, he is. It’s going to take him a good week to get over the altitude sickness. He cannot trek in his condition, he will have to be carried.”
“My Uncle will take you down to Nepal, but you will need to get supplies,” Adnan offered.
“How much?” asked James, knowing that nothing came for free in this life, and especially in this life in Tibet.
“You should trade something. Don’t let the Nazis see you with currency, they will ask questions.”
“Can you get the supplies we will be needing?” asked James. Adnan nodded.
James walked over to the other side of the room and retrieved a bag of coins which he threw over to Adnan, and instructed him to go down to the village and trade the coins in exchange for everything they would need for the trip ahead. He also told him to have everything back at the house within twenty-four hours.
Adnan headed over to the door and opened it. As he was leaving, James had a final question.
“Why are you doing this? Our peoples are not exactly what one would call allies.”
“Maybe not, but whatever needs to be done to stop those Nazi pigs must be done,” replied Adnan.
Chapter Six
A Hotel in Nepal.
A local Nepali man in his 40s sat in the lobby of the hotel, holding his newspaper and doing a good job of giving the impression that he was actually reading it. Peering over the top edge, he could see two Caucasian men. They were James McKinley and Grant Hughes. James was obviously supporting Grant, who looked like he was at death’s door. They both headed over to the public restroom, where several moments later a doctor knocked on the door.
James opened it, and almost dragged the man in. The doctor stopped in his tracks. Grant was on the floor, coughing violently and sitting in his own vomit.
“It’s altitude sickness, can you help him?” asked James.
The doctor ordered him to sit his friend up against the wall, and to hold him in that position. He took out his stethoscope from his medical bag and listened to Grant’s heartbeat and laboured breathing.
“His heartbeat is regular and steady. His breathing is terrible. He needs urgent medical care and medication.”
“We need to get out of the country, and we don’t have time for that. Whatever you can do for him needs to be done right here, right now, Doctor,” explained James.
“The only thing I have here which may help is this,” said the doctor. “He needs to take this dose now, and another in three days when I can return here.”
The doctor asked James about their immediate plans.
James, thinking fast, replied: “We’re taking an excursion. Tourists. They’re very demanding. I’ve sure you know…”
The doctor butted in, knowing that what he was hearing was far from the truth.
“Yes, sure. Look, do yourself a favour and stay here for at least a day while this dose hopefully does its business. Let him get plenty of rest, and maybe, just maybe, he will be strong enough to make the trip to wherever it is you are going.”
James decided now was the time to level with him.
“Doctor. I need to ask for your help. Can you get us more of this medicine? He needs it, and we need to get moving without delay if we are to avoid capture.
The doctor did a double take, blinking several times. “Are you with the Nazis?”
“God no, we’re trying to escape from the damned Nazis!” said James, rather indignantly. “Do you have money?” asked the doctor.
“Yes. Here.”
James handed over a bundle of Nepalese Rupees.
“Ok, my friend, I will do what I can. Stay here as long as you can, and I will try to get back with the best medicine I can find for your friend without delay. If you need me in the meantime, the concierge knows where to find me.”
They both shook hands before the doctor left.
He exited the hotel’s main door and walked down a dimly lit street, deep in thought.
After several minutes he approached an office building and walked through the door. He proceeded up a couple of flights of stairs, unlocked a door and walked into his office. He placed his head in his hands and let out a deep sigh. The doctor was a troubled man.
After several minutes of thought, he picked up the phone and made a call.
“Hello. I am calling to report the whereabouts of two mountaineers fleeing the Nazis. Yes, I’ll hold.”
Back in the hotel, James and Grant had managed to get a room and struggle upstai
rs. James had placed Grant on the bed to rest when there was a knock at the door to see the man who had been observing them in the lobby earlier on.
“Hello. My name is Batsa Archaya.”
“Is there something wrong?” asked James.
“No, I would however like to speak with you with a matter of some urgency.”
“We’re speaking now,” said James, unwilling to invite the stranger into the room. “You are here to scale the mountains, yes?” enquired the Tibetan.
“Yes. Probably not Everest, but something as equally challenging.”
“The British are conducting an expedition, and we are a bit short on numbers. Our mutual friend, Dr Ardarsh, has informed me that you may be interested in joining us, and helping us to find the Germans. We would be most grateful, and more than willing to help your friend get back to good health in return,” said Batsa.
Batsa pulled out from his pocket a British military ID card, and as James inspected it, quickly scanned the room, noticing Grant on the bed in a deep sleep.
“Your friend is resting. Come, join me in the restaurant for a drink and a talk,” said Batsa.
They left the room and walked along the corridor, eventually finding themselves entering the hotel’s restaurant and bar. Batsa led James outside onto the balcony where they ordered their drinks. The waiter set them down on the table, and, as he went back inside, he closed the double doors and locked them. Batsa smiled.
“Don’t worry, that’s just for privacy.”
James wasn’t quite ready to let down his guard as of yet, and shifted nervously in his chair.
“Mr Mckinley. As we have already established, I am with British intelligence. We could use someone with your skills quite urgently, and as I have stated - and promised - the gratitude of my superiors will be generous as far as taking care of your friend is concerned. Now. You are supposedly here to climb, but, you stick out like a sore thumb.”
James raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know if he should be offended at that last statement or not. Batsa continued.
“You are Australian, Mr McKinley, and that is why you are here. We require you… we are asking you to accompany a group of sherpas to an area close to the Tibetan plateau. You will be rewarded with your friend’s good health in return.”
“Is that a threat?” asked James.
“Mr McKinley. Whilst I have people at my disposal who could make anything happen to you, or your friend upon my instruction, I am not, at present, in any position to make threats.”
The two men eyeballed each other with James still feeling somewhat suspicious. Finally, he conceded that his friend, Grant, was in dire need of medical help if he was to survive.
“Tell me exactly what it is you require of me and my services,” he asked, deciding now was the time to cut to the chase. “What is it that you are looking for in those mountains?”
“A very good question, Mr McKinley, but a question which leads in the wrong direction. We are not looking for anything. It’s the Nazis who are looking for something, and we would like to know what it is that they find so captivating.”
James lifted his eyes towards the sky, the penny had dropped.
“Mr McKinley, on top of your friend’s good health, you will be paid generous amount of money, very generous. On top of that, you will be provided with a large and competent team and all the resources you will need for your trip. You will also be protected by a rather large organisation, better known as the British government. I strongly urge you to consider taking the opportunity carefully. Not many men of your age get opportunities such as this.”
“Exactly how much are we talking about?” asked James, now genuinely interested. “Mr McKinley, believe me when I say, it is a generous amount which is dependent on your success. I will also tell you now, that we are aware that you did not leave your military service on the best of terms. Should you help us out now, that record will be expunged, and you can then be in a position where you will be able to tell everyone and anyone that you left with a honourable discharge,” replied Batsa.
Batsa removed a manila envelope from his briefcase and handed it over to James.
“In there, you will find details of several climbers. They’ve all been vetted by us already. Choose your team tonight, and I will come by in the morning to discuss things in more detail,” said Batsa.
Concluding that sentence he clicked his fingers and from nowhere appeared a waiter who handed him the bill for their drinks. Batsa doubled the amount on the bill, meaning one waiter walked away from their table a very happy young man.
James returned to his room and went through the profiles of his prospective climbing partners while telling Grant of the offer, even though he probably couldn’t hear much due to being in a very deep sleep.
He sorted the papers into two piles, stood up and packed a bag.
Now, it was time to rest, and it didn’t take long before he too fell into a restful slumber. It would not, however last long. He was awoken by knocking on the room door. James looked at his watch. It was 03:57.
Who the…, he asked himself rhetorically.
Upon opening the door, he saw Batsa standing there, who, dispensing with the pleasantries, asked if James had managed to assemble a team.
“Yes, I have,” he replied, walking back into the room to retrieve the envelope which he handed to Batsa. James was then handed another envelope.
“Read this,” instructed Batsa. “What is it?”
“Read it,” at which point Batsa turned and walked away from the door. This meeting was obviously over.
James opened the new envelope and his eyes opened wide.
Are you bloody serious?
Chapter Seven
The Mountains of Tibet.
James was walking through the early morning fog wearing many layers ready for the long trek ahead. As he came to a clearing, he met with two Sherpas. They were both men in their 40s and not particularly large, but, as James knew, they would be as strong as oxen, and their help would be vital for his success in the mission at hand. They introduced themselves as Pasang and Babu Chiri.
James, in his usual upbeat manner, asked if they were there to meet him, and if they were all ready to go for the trek ahead. His conversational questioning was met with silence. Another try.
“Am I the first here?”
Still without a single word, the two Nepalese men turned and started to walk off. “Hey, where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?” yelled James, now somewhat confused.
He followed, and after just a few moments, from nowhere appeared a group of people consisting of ten Gurhkas, two Nepalese climbers, three more Sherpas, and surprisingly, a woman, and a strikingly one at that. Her long silky hair was blowing in the mountain wind, and, she had absolutely perfect skin. Ignoring the fifteen other men, and not entirely following his brain, James headed straight over to initiate a conversation. The woman introduced herself as being one Agent Mere Dargaville.
James, in a rather pathetic attempt - especially for an Australian - made an attempt to break the ice.
“Urm, Hello. Are you taking us to the full group?” he spluttered.
Agent Dargaville rolled her eyes until her pupils were almost invisible.
“Oh God, he’s worse than they said he was,” she said to her friends. “This is the group, we are the group, and, yes, I’m a woman so please get used to it,” she retorted in a tone as cold as the ice on which they were all standing.
James had a look on his face which seemed like he’d just cracked a top-secret code. “Wait, are you Maori?”
“Yes, I am, and you’re Australian!”
“Yeah, that’s right. Brisbane,” said James, still trying to be cheerful, even after having been brought down a peg or two.
Agent Dargaville held out her hand. “Allow me to introduce myself properly. Agent Mere Dargaville, British special operations executive. These are my guys, Gervesh and Tau.”
The other two men eyed James up and down brie
fly, and nodded stiffly.
“Follow me, and you’ll be fine,” continued Agent Dargaville. “You’ll be following my lead a lot, so that’s another thing you need to get used to.”
“Erm, I am a veteran climber in case you are not aware?” said James, sensing that his skills were being discounted before they’d even begun.
The Agent and her two men looked at each other and chuckled.
“Yes, I’m sure you are, James. I have been working with British intelligence and on their behalf, I have been advising the Bhutan King on a matter of foreign affairs. My specialty is in signals and communications. May I ask what you specialty is?” asked Dargaville condescendingly with one eyebrow raised and a one-sided smile.
“Archaeology, anthropology, and zoology,” replied James. More chuckling.
“Well, thank God we have someone here who is an expert on zoology, that’s a real lifesaver,” she replied.
The two men turned their backs to Agent Dargaville and James and walked over to a pile of backpacks. They each picked one up. With her eyes, the woman suggested James do the same. “Where is my team? I was given a bunch of profiles from which to choose my own team, and not one of them are here. What’s the bloody point in asking me to choose my own team and then ignoring my requests completely?” asked James, now getting annoyed.
“I was the only one available to take this trek with you. If you want to go up into those mountains and get out alive again, you need the right people; people who know what they’re doing, and these people that I’ve brought along fit perfectly into our requirement. They know every square inch of these mountains, and I have every confidence in them. We will be experiencing severe cold, rain, snow, ice, possible avalanches, as well as a very real threat of being hunted down by the Germans. Would you like experts, or people with whom you can have a nice chat?” asked the agent.
Once again, she looked James up and down, with a rather less than impressed expression on her face.
“Is that what you’re intending to wear?” she asked.
