Chapter 13
All that remained of the colonist outpost were two small huts made of grass and timber and a stone oven, the chimney of which had collapsed. The German infantrymen set up camp. It had been seven days since the men had bathed and so they began moving to the small river near the camp.
Colonel Wolfgang and Quaid Grissop unloaded their bagCage from the trunk of the steel tracked car they had been sharing.
“Tell your men to keep watch for Black Caiman.” Grissop warned the major.
“Black what?” the colonel scoffed.
“Crocodiles Colonel, they can grow to as much as sixteen feet in length and weigh one thousand pounds. There may be dozens in that river your men are bathing in.”
Colonel Wolfgang sarcastically ordered a passing lieutenant to caution the men and to be on the watch for “lizards”.
Grissop had been stuck in the car with this arrogant German for almost two weeks as they crossed the undulating South American savannah. In the beginning, the man had been very quiet. However, on the third day, he began amusing himself by familiarizing Grissop with the National Socialist ideology. Quaid had listened attentively often asking questions or commenting on the cleverness of the Nazi government. On the sixth day, Grissop felt he had ingratiated himself enough to breech the subject of the expedition’s true purpose. The colonel had become suddenly quiet and contemplative.
“We are here to insure that the Third Reich will endure for a thousand years and beyond!” he had finally revealed.
“The Amazon jungle is a long way from Germany Colonel. What can you hope to accomplish here that will so benefit your cause?”
“We will accomplish what all others have failed to accomplish. We will find what all others have failed to discover. We will secure that which all men seek but which only the powerful possess. For five hundred years the weak have searched in vain for what we have found and, like all else that we desire, we will claim it as our own, ripping it from clutches of this wretched land.”
The colonel had become irritable and surly since their conversation, seizing any opportunity to be churlish. He realized that Grissop had baited him into revealing more than he should have about their objective. Grissop had remained silent on the subject, not wishing to press his luck.
Xavier Venoma approached the two men. Dust and dirt had turned his black suit gray. “Colonel, inform Major Schmidt that I want to leave for the site immediately. Mr. Grissop, you will accompany us.”
“Where are we going?” Quaid inquired.
“To pay respect to a legend, Mr. Grissop.” Venoma said.
Wolfgang, Schmidt and a detail of soldiers joined them and together they headed north into the thick undergrowth that surrounded the old encampment. Walking single file, the infantrymen hacked a trail through the dense plants and vines. The group trudged along for nearly three hours before Schmidt called a halt.
“He is there, near that small clutch of tall trees.” The Major declared.
Curious now, Grissop moved forward with the senior men while the soldiers, ordered to remain, stayed behind. It took Quaid fifteen minutes to chop through the greenery and reach the trees indicated by Schmidt. Taking the machete from Grissop, Schmidt deliberately and delicately cut away the undergrowth at the base of one of the trees.
“There he is!” Venoma declared reverently.
The broken, disarticulated skeleton of a man lay scattered on the forest floor, the bones stained brown and black from the decaying vegetation surrounding them. Remnants of tall leather boots still covered the feet and lower legs.
“Major, you said you found him leaning against the tree, as if he had sat down to rest. What did you do to him?” Venoma asked in an accusatory tone.
Schmidt went suddenly pale. “It was necessary for me to remove the satchel Herr Venoma. I intended no disrespect, I am sorry sir.” He said indulgently as he skulked to the rear of the group and out of Venoma’s line of sight.
Venoma approached and knelt quietly, contemplating the remains. He then began searching through the grass and leaves around the skeleton. No one moved or spoke until the white haired man rose to his feet. Turning to face the group, he stood there in front of them, pallid, cadaverous. Quaid could see that Venoma had removed his glasses. It was the first time Grissop had seen him without them and now he wished he would hurry and put them back on. One sanguine, red eyeball bore into Schmidt, causing him to squirm uncomfortably.
“Bury him.” The ghostly man finally spoke, his voice low and malevolent. All recognized that he meant for Schmidt to undertake the task himself and alone.
Venoma and the colonel returned to the waiting soldiers while Grissop stayed to keep an eye on Schmidt. The major’s humiliation made Quaid uncomfortable and so he moved a few yards away. His foot struck something solid. Pushing away the growth, he saw skeletal remains clothed in a German uniform. His foot had struck the dead man’s skull and, upon a closer examination, Grissop could see a bullet hole in the front while the entire back of the cranium was missing or fragmented. Returning to where Schmidt was still digging the grave, he found contempt had replaced his feelings of pity for the man.
“Who is he Major?” Grissop asked casually as he lit a cigarette.
Schmidt stopped digging and sat down on the edge of the grave, petitioning Grissop with his eyes for a cigarette. He handed the sweaty Nazi the pack and matches.
“Walter Ramsell!” Smoke billowed from Schmidt’s mouth and nostrils as he replied.
“The Forster Expedition! That Walter Ramsell?” Grissop was stunned. He sat quietly for a moment cogitating.
“El Dorado! Venoma thinks he has found El Dorado! Unbelievable, he must be insane.”
“Be careful Herr Grissop. One does not mock Xavier Venoma or the third Reich! The lost city has been found and its secrets will be possessed by the German people.”
“Men have sought that fairytale for five centuries Herr Schmidt, and all have come to the same conclusion.” Grissop waved his cigarette in the direction of the pile of bones next to the half-finished grave.
“None of those men were German’s.” He said flatly returning to his task.
“Nazis will succeed then where others have failed, is that it? German’s are the superior race, and that is why you will succeed? ” Grissop jeered.
“God wills it. God will see that the German race succeeds.”
“What about your German friend in the grass back there? ‘He’ found Walter, didn’t he? Was it God’s will that you put a bullet in his superior German brain?”
Grissop flicked his cigarette butt into the empty grave.
“A descent man would dig two. My estimation is that there will be only one.”
Grissop made his way, slowly, back to the old colonist encampment. He needed a few moments to absorb the revelation of the expedition’s true mission. Schmidt had mentioned a satchel found with Ramsell’s body. It must have contained a map or other proof of the existence of lost city. Quaid Grissop imagined an ancient city of gold, gilded pyramids gleaming in the equatorial sun, inhabited by thousands of Indians all adorned with yellow jewelry shimmering in the daylight as they moved about the fabled metropolis. Could it be true? Quaid needed to be smart, and careful. He could not afford the perception that he was merely a menial subordinate or simple hired hand. If the Germans had truly found El Dorado he would not stand idly by and see its treasure looted and then smuggled back to Germany without receiving a fair and equitable share of the prize.
Arriving at camp, he made his way toward the command post where he found Colonel Wolfgang and The Maquise de Venoma sitting at a small table. On that table, he could see a tattered leather bag and a leather bound book. Venoma placed the book in the leather bag then motioned for Grissop to join them.
“Mr. Grissop, please come and join us. Would you care for some tea?” He asked politely.
“Yes, thank you.”
“The colonel and I were discussing the next leg of our journey.
Things have gone exceedingly well so far, wouldn’t’ you agree Mr. Grissop?”
“We have only just breeched the edge of the Mato Grosso, ‘things’ will not continue to go as smoothly.”
“Well then what do you suggest Herr Grissop?” Colonel Wolfgang asked sharply.
“I suggest you tell me the truth.” Grissop shot back. “I think that I deserve that.”
“You deserve nothing! Your services have been bought and paid for, this entitles you to nothing!” Colonel Wolfgang stood coming face to face with Grissop.
“Colonel, please sit down!” Venoma reigned in his watchdog. “Mr. Grissop feels he has been misled and, perhaps, rightly so.”
Grissop moved to the table and took a chair opposite the furious colonel. Venoma poured three cups of tea and placed one before each of the brooding men. Quaid did not like the colonel. He was arrogant, mean and unpredictable however, he was not stupid like Schmidt. Quaid knew that in order to have any chance of getting close to Venoma he would need to make peace with the Wolfsatz Cerberus.
“Gentlemen, if I am to guide you successfully we will need to trust each other. Colonel, I apologize for inferring any deception on your part or Mr. Venoma’s.” Grissop said, attempting to pet the beast. “To be completely honest I did not expect that your party would continue much beyond this point. However, now that I understand what you are after, I can see that you are serious in this endeavor.”
“And what is it that you believe we are after, Mr. Grissop?” Venoma inquired.
“Gold!” Grissop dropped the word heavily, like a lump of sugar in his tea.
“I had hoped to keep that secret a little longer.” Venoma replied after a moment of contemplation.
“Walter Ramsell let the cat out of the bag.” Grissop replied.
“You spoke with Major Schmidt?” Venoma asked with a note of comprehension.
“Anyone who has spent any time at all in South America knows of the Forster expedition. What I do not understand, is what makes you think it was successful?” Grissop asked.
“This journal belonged to Walter.” Venoma said removing the small leather book. “In it he outlines his parties’ journey. In vivid detail, he describes, not only their trek through the Amazon jungle, but also the exact location of… well, a marvelous city full of wonder.”
“But how do you know it is really Walter Ramsell Schmidt is burying? And how do you know the city really exists?”
Venoma placed his hand inside his vest pocket withdrawing the signet ring and handing it to Grissop. “That ring was on the hand of the body Schmidt discovered. An artifact was also discovered with Ramsell’s body that offers undeniable proof of the cities existence, and of the wealth within it.”
““El Dorado!” Grissop spoke the name eagerly.
“I would be most grateful if you would keep your observations to yourself, Mr. Grissop, most grateful.”
“I understand Venoma. The last thing we need is gold fever infecting the ranks.”
“Greed can cause men to act thoughtlessly, to forget where their loyalties lie. What about you Mr. Grissop?” Venoma asked tossing a meaningful glance in the direction of Professor DeWulf who lay bound and slumped over in a corner of the tent. “The success of this expedition may require that we make certain… sacrifices.”
“My agreement with you is to guide you safely as far as you need to go. I won’t interfere with your personal business.” Grissop replied.
“For that I am grateful Herr Grissop.”
“Grateful!” Grissop repeated the word. “I trust then that when the time is right you will find an appropriate way to express that appreciation.”
“Of that you can be assured Mr. Grissop. Now shall we discuss the next step in our journey?”
“We should make for Planaltina where we can resupply and lay up for a couple of days. The men will need the rest before we move into Xingu territory.”
“We should keep moving, the men do not need rest!” Entering the tent Major Schmidt approached the table, his face, hands and breeches all covered with dirt and perspiration.
“Corporal Fritz has informed me that at least a dozen of them have dysentery and even more are showing signs of malaria. You can find treatment for them in Planaltina.” Grissop replied sharply.
“As usual Herr Grissop, you over exaggerate the gravity of the situation.” Schmidt mocked. “I have observed no such weaknesses in the men!”
“Perhaps Major, you would prefer to stay here with them and reestablish the colony outpost and your previous command!” Colonel Wolfgang bristled with contempt.
“Either way Planaltina is their only hope.” Quaid ended the squabble.
Five days later the Nazi expedition camped one day away from Planaltina. Ten soldiers had died, with three others expected to succumb in the night. The rest were either sick or dehydrated. Only the Colonel, the Wolfsatz guards, and Grissop were healthy. Major Schmidt had come down with dysentery and complained constantly. Venoma, ravaged by insects, had multiple infections on his face and hands. To make a miserable situation worse two of the trucks had to be abandoned, both becoming mired in mud up to the axles.
The healthiest members of the Nazi party continued on toward Planaltina leaving the others to rest and guard the bulk of the weapons and the Professor.
Jack and Jolly found these remaining Germans encamped in a tree covered, brushy overgrown ravine with only a few campfires and a handful of lethargic and indifferent guards. Looking through a set of binoculars Jolly could see the professor sitting and eating near a camp fire, an armed guard sitting a few feet away.
“Any sign of Grissop?” Jack asked.
“No, in fact I do not see any of the primary players!” Jolly replied. “I can see Bill Smoots and Terry Gunn. Those giant feet sticking out of that tent can only belong to Will Tucker however, I do not see any of the others.”
“Something is wrong Jolly, it’s too quiet down there.”
“Maybe they are just worn out.” Jolly offered.
“Maybe, however there is nothing we can do about it now anyway.” Jack said.
“We will watch the professor and move in after midnight.” Jolly ordered.
As the impenetrable darkness of the Mato Grosso enveloped the Nazi camp, the two would be rescuers advanced on the unsuspecting Germans. The plan was stealth and finesse but both men knew blood would flow tonight. The two found the German soldiers frail and sickly. Only a dozen or so were attentive. Two of these were near the tent that held the professor. The lack of campfires and dense brush made hiding easy however, moving quietly was difficult.
As Jack approached the tent a guard heard him as he attempted to disentangle himself from a thorn bush. Jolly watched as the German soldier moved closer to investigate the noise. Suddenly Jack jumped to his feet directly behind the guard. Throwing an arm around the man’s neck, he locked his wrist in his free hand and pinched the soldier’s carotid arteries and trachea closed thus stifling a scream and rendering the man unconscious.
Now only one guard and ten open feet stood between the tent and Jolly. Jack was out of position and therefore would be seen long before he could move to silence the man. Jolly steeled his nerves for the onslaught. It had been many years since he had taken a life. Now looking at the young soldier before him, for the first time, he felt regret for the act he was about to perpetrate. Jolly had taken many lives, some of them guilty only of wearing a German uniform. This however, this was different, this was not war. The professor however, was also an innocent man and, the Nazis would kill him once he had served his purpose.
In a split second, it was over. The guard lay on the ground, Jolly on top of him. He held his powerful hand over the young man’s mouth, his long knife protruding out the back of the man’s neck. The soldiers eyes, locked on to Jolly’s in an expression of shock and horror, went dark as the life ebbed from his body.
Jack moved to his mentor’s side and gently laid his hand on the big man’s shoulder. Jolly wit
hdrew his knife from the corpse wiping blood from the blade on the dead man’s tunic and then both moved to the backside of the tent.
Silently, Jack made a small slit in the canvas with his blade. Peering through he could see and hear the Professor sleeping on the ground inside. Slowly, cautiously, with his knife Jack extended the opening in the tent until it was long enough that he could step through. Moving toward the professor he reached out, clamping one had over the man’s nose and mouth and holding him down with the other.
Kermit DeWulf struggled only slightly as Jack rolled him onto his back and looked into his eyes. Seeing that the man restraining him was no German, DeWulf moved his own hand to Jack’s and gently indicated that he would be silent.
“Who…?” Jack again clamped his hand down on the Professor’s mouth, his brow furrowing in frustration. Jack put his index finger of his free hand over his own mouth and then pointed to the rear of the tent. The Professor nodded that he understood and the two men then escaped through the rear of the tent where Jolly waited. Moving as quietly as possible the three men made their way out of camp and to the tethered horses.
Only when he was satisfied that they were out of ear shot did Jack address the Professor. “Professor DeWulf, are you injured?” He asked.
“No! Who are you men? How did you find me?”
“This is Matroye Joley and I am Jack Cage, your daughter sent us.” Jack reached inside his shirt collar and revealed the silver pendant that Sophie had given him.
“Sophie! Is she alright?” Professor DeWulf asked excitedly.
“Yes sir, she is fine and anxious to see you safe.” Jolly replied.
“Thank God!” DeWulf proclaimed. “And thank God for you men as well, I truly expected to die when Xavier Venoma was through with me.”
Jolly put an end to the conversation reminding the others that they were not free yet. The three moved through the jungle following a game trail. This made them easy to track, however, in the darkness of the Amazon night it was the quickest way to move. Besides, Quaid would know where they were headed and as soon as the kidnappers found DeWulf missing they would send a party out after him so, moving fast was their only hope of escape.
The three skipped breakfast and stopped only long enough to water their mounts. About three o’clock in the afternoon Jolly finally called a halt. The men were near a small stream that showed signs of being a common watering hole for local animals.
“We will rest here for one hour. Jack, start a fire and I will prepare the food.” Jolly ordered. After eating the men sat quietly trying to rest. The Professor was startled by every noise and Jack and Jolly were jumpy as well.
“Professor, what is happening here? Why were you taken by these men? What is it the Nazi’s want with you?” Jolly sensed that no one was able to sleep therefore he decided to take advantage of the time to gather information from the Professor.
Professor DeWulf studied the faces of the two men suspiciously. “I have heard of you Capitaine Joley. A dear and close friend has often spoken of you.”
“You are no doubt referring to Général DeMonte! Sophie bore a letter of introduction from the Général, and, it is because of your relationship with our former commander that we are here.” Jolly reassured him.
“I had to be sure you were who you claimed to be Capitaine. What I am about to tell you is incredible. If the knowledge were to fall into the hands of corrupt men it could be calamitous.”
Intrigued by this statement Jack and Jolly moved closer to the professor.
“I was taken from my office by the Nazis and escorted to a secure facility in Berlin. There I was introduced to three other scientists who were attempting to decipher the origin and the purpose of an ancient artifact found here in South America. The artifact was a crystalline orb which emanated a tremendous energy from an unknown power source within. I was able to determine that the artifact required an external device to channel and harvest the energy. Such a device had been discovered with the orb, a magnificent disk of purest gold, engraved with undecipherable glyphs. Our experiments yielded only limited results, however, I came to the undeniable conclusion that the device was only one of many that existed and that in order to fully comprehend its true nature and power the others would need to be found.”
Professor DeWulf became sullen and quiet. “Venoma executed the other scientists. The Wolsatz Nazis shot them one by one right there in the lab. It was horrible! I was terrified!”
“You determined that the source of these artifacts is here in the Mato Grosso?” Jolly asked.
“No, not me, it was Major Schmidt! While here as a Colonist he had discovered the remains of some long dead explorer in the jungle. Major Schmidt found the artifacts and the dead man’s journal among the remains. The journal spoke of a lost city deep in the jungle and that this place was the source of the artifacts.”
“You can’t be serious!” Jack exclaimed. “Jolly, you do realize what he is saying?”
“This dead explorer, did they tell you his name?” Jolly inquired.
“Walter someone.”
“Ramsell? Walter Ramsell?”
“Yes! That was it! Schmidt found his body not far from the Nazi colonist outpost.”
“Did you see the journal?”
“Yes, of course, I read in it quite extensively, it was fantastic if not remarkable.”
“Did this lost city have a name?” Jack asked leaning forward in anticipation.
“In the journal the inhabitants named it Kahch’ultun. The journalist however called it El Dorado.”
Jack and Jolly both leaned back looking at one another with confusion and disbelief. Jolly was the first to speak saying that it was time to move. Jack agreed as a feeling of impending trouble settled on both men. Mounting the horses Jack brought his mount close to Jolly’s.
“If word of this gets to Fat Charlie we are done for. Life debt aside he will kill us where we stand if he discovers the truth about what the Nazis are looking for.”
“We need to hurry then and get Sophie and the professor away from Planaltina as quickly as possible.” Jolly said.
With the professor between them the three rode single file through the jungle, taking advantage of every opportunity to run the horses. Even so, traveling was painfully slow in the dense green bush. Adding to the slow pace the professor was ill, probably dehydrated and possibly infected with Malaria. The men had ridden for two more hours when the Professor suddenly slumped forward in his saddle. Jolly caught him as he slipped toward the ground.
“Jack!” He called out.
Jolly lowered the professor to the ground and Jack retrieved the canteen. Professor DeWulf coughed and opened his eyes.
“Gentlemen, I am so sorry. I must have dozed off.”
“He is burning up Jolly.” Jack said.
“”Planaltina is only six more hours away, we can get him treatment there. I will carry him with me.”
“‘Planaltina for treatment’. Yes that is what he said.” The professor said deliriously.
“What who said professor?”
“Planaltina. They were going to Planaltina for treatment.” The old man repeated.
“Who professor? Who was going to Planaltina?” Jack demanded, becoming more and more apprehensive.
“They will bring medicine back to camp. To treat the sick men… Wolfgang cannot afford to lose so many, not yet. Go to Planaltina for treatment… then come back”
Jack shot a look of terror at Jolly.
“Schmidt and the others! They are on their way to Planaltina!” He said, now almost in a panic. “What if Fat Charlie discovers why they are really here? We have to get to Sophie before he gets to the Germans.”
“Jack, get to Sophie as fast as you can. Get her to the airport and have that plane ready to fly. I will carry him with me and meet you there.”
Jack did not like this plan. Alone, Jolly could not sufficiently defend himself and the sick professor for very long should they be caught. However, if
Fat Charlie meets Schmidt and the others he will discover that they are looking for El Dorado, and once he knows of its existence, he will stop at nothing to possess its secrets, whether they be real or imagined.
“Captain, I can’t just leave you!” He said, the pain in his heart echoing in his voice.
“You must. You must save Sophie!” Jolly pleaded. “Go! Now!”
Jack turned, jumped into the saddle, and rode away without looking back. Jack rode on pushing his horse through the jungle as fast as the animal could move. As Planaltina drew closer the feeling of uneasiness grew stronger with the miles separating him from his old friend. Uneasiness turned to frustration, and that, to irritation, and that, would eventually turn to anger. Jack never thought clearly when he was angry, he tended to make rash decisions, and so he tried to calm himself. He reasoned that even if Schmidt and the others reached Planaltina before him Fat Charlie would still need time to work his manipulative magic to extract the truth from them. He told himself that Jolly would be fine, that the Germans in the camp were too ill to pursue him and the professor, and that they had enough of a head start that, even if pursued, they would make the airport long before the Germans could catch up to them.
It was almost midnight when Jack rode into the city. Heading straight to Sophie’s hotel Jack approached the building and found Fat Charlie’s guard sitting out front.
“Your lady, she not here.” The Indian said in broken English. “She at Fat Charlie place, for safe keeping.”
Jack shot the man a suspicious glare.
“She safe! Charlie say he keep safe for you!” He assured Jack.
Jack ran about three quarters of a mile to Fat Charlie’s place. Before entering he took a moment to peer through the open windows. Inside he could see Charlie in his usual seat, sweating and laughing. Next to him sat Sophie, safe and sound.
“Jack my boy! You are back! How wonderful!” Charlie exclaimed as Jack cautiously entered the bar.
“Yah, it’s wonderful. Sophie, we need to go.” Jack held out his hand motioning for Sophie to join him. “Is the plane ready Charlie?”
“Why the rush Jack, and what of Jolly and the professor, where are they?” Fat Charlie inquired, glancing about with a concerned look.
“They didn’t make it.” He lied. Sophie took in a sharp breath as her eyes reddened and tears sprang forth wetting her lovely cheeks. Jack felt bad about this lie but it was the only way of getting her to move fast without a long explanation in front of Charlie.
“Oh dear, that is very sad! I am so sorry my dear.” Charlie said to Sophie as he offered her a yellow stained handkerchief.
“Come on Sophie, let’s go.” Jack insisted.
“Jack, you seem very nervous. Why so jittery?” Sophie stared straight ahead as Charlie spoke, not looking at Jack.
“I want to get Sophie safely back home that’s all.”
“But Jack, my boy, Dr. DeWulf is staying here!” Jack reached for his pistol but froze in mid motion upon hearing, from behind, the sound of hammers being cocked on several weapons.
“Charlie, you gave your word!” Jack pleaded.
“Yes Jack, I did. Our agreement was that I would provide you, Jolly, and the professor, should you be successful in rescuing him, a way of escape. Remember Jack, it was you who withheld Sophie’s presence from me! If you had been forthright from the beginning perhaps I could have made arrangements for her transportation as well.”
“She can take Jolly’s seat then, or the Professor’s since they won’t be coming.”
“I am sorry Jack but that will not be possible. You see I have made other arrangements for Miss DeWulf requiring her presence here. I do wish it could be otherwise, I know that you have grown quite fond of her.”
“And what if Sophie doesn’t want to stay here, what then Charlie?”
“Poor Jack, it has all been arranged. Sophie will stay on as my personal physician. You though are free to go Jack. A cargo plane is fueled and standing by at the airport ready to fly you back to Rio.”
“And what if I refuse?”
“Then I can no longer be responsible for your safety.” Fat Charlie’s words were foreboding and his tone malignant.
“I will not leave here without her.”
“It is time for you to catch that plane my boy.” Charlie said conclusively.
Four of Charlie’s henchmen moved to surround Jack. He again reached for his Colt. Jack heard a thwack and then his head reverberated like a rung bell. Black shadows began to creep into the edges of Jack’s vision and the corners of the room went dark.
“Jack!” Sophie’s voice echoed in his ears. A wave of nausea passed over him as the floor came rushing up toward his face, then, nothing.
Chasing El Dorado Page 13
