by Seeley James
“Now is the time to fight, my friends,” he continued. “Think of your fathers and your grandfathers, who fought like wild beasts to protect you. Set your mind to the task, breathe deep and hearty as they once did. Don’t let your mothers hear anyone speak of your cowardice, but only of your unrestrained bravery. Make yourself an example to the man who stands next to you. Let everyone admire you, the greatest Knight of Mithras. No, not Knights. When I look at you, I see kings.”
His Knights all rose to their feet and held their heads high. Amanow swelled with pride. Even Dhanpal, the man they saved from Pia Sabel, joined in. They shouted their oath and hugged each other.
Amanow consulted with them about where to build their redoubts and barricades. Together they plotted where the authorities would approach and how best to ambush them. They set about making the cave at the base of the mountain their last stand. Sandbags were filled, body armor distributed, ammunition stacked, and the last of the ANFO placed with trip wires.
Amanow looked over the preparations. It was only a matter of time before the authorities figured out where they were. And they were ready.
Then one last precaution occurred to him. He looked at the cliff above them and decided no one could approach that way. They would be a sitting duck. Little more than target practice. But Stearne would never come up the main trail.
He turned to his aide. “From which direction would you least expect an attack?”
The aide pursed his lips and considered the terrain. He pointed at a little-used hiking trail winding toward them from the forest.
“Stearne will come through there.” He looked to the side, where the cliff met a steep slope of scree. “Take two men and set up along that edge. Ambush him.”
CHAPTER 62
Everyone knew where I was going. Brandt was the only one who tried to stop me. He gave up when I climbed back onto the station’s platform. Miguel gave Pavard a boost up, and I offered a hand. Between the two of us, we got the Frenchman to his feet.
The cogwheel was in the station. A few passengers were already onboard. I marched toward the first car.
Pia Sabel descended the stairs. We both stopped when we saw each other. In spite of her dress pumps, she broke into a run, handing off the Stone to Miguel as she passed him.
She tackled me with a hug, tears streaming down her face. My arms instinctively wrapped around her. But stiffly. She sensed my anger. She stepped back, wiped her nose and eyes with a tissue. She said, “I’m so sorry.”
“She was safe at the hotel.” My voice was as cold as the glacier outside.
“She was my friend too.”
“A dangerous occupation.” I regretted my angry snap as soon as I said it. Her father was killed right in front of her, in part because I failed to keep him out of a firefight.
We both breathed to settle ourselves, to keep our anger from flaring.
She said, “I want to go with you.”
“No.”
“I can help.”
“No.” I started walking to the train. Then I realized I was doing exactly what led me into this nightmare in the first place. What would Jenny want me to do?
“Sorry.” I stopped and faced Ms. Sabel. “I need your help.”
With a sad glance at me, she tugged at her dress. “I’ll change and catch up with you.”
I boarded the train and walked to the forward car so I could be the first one off when we hit Garmisch. Miguel and Pavard followed me. The train started off while we were still moving down the aisle. We grabbed railings to steady ourselves, not because we lost our balance from the motion but because the steepness threw us off. After the train traveled a hundred yards, we got the hang of it and continued.
A familiar man occupied the seat closest to the door. I took the seat next to him. Miguel and Pavard took seats across the way. Rafael Tum looked like a different human being in a suit. He looked like a guy who went to English boarding school and became a professor. He stared straight ahead.
After listening to the keening of the steel wheels through half the length of the tunnel, Rafael turned to me. “I joined the Keepers to atone for my sins. We keep the Stones in a safe place.”
“I offered it to you several times. Why didn’t you take it?”
“You’re not finished, yet.” He looked away. “Your responsibility was to make sure it didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Those were the words he used when I first met him. He had warned me. Would Jenny still be alive if I’d left the damn thing in Seven-Death’s temple? Screw it. No good would come of second-guessing my actions.
“Well,” I said with a nasty glare, “it fell into the wrong hands. And now the love of my life is dead. Your advice turned out to be useless then and still is now.”
“Don’t let it fall.” He accented the last word.
“Quit talking in riddles. I hate that.”
“Use it.”
“How? I don’t believe in magic rocks.”
“Then use it on those who do.”
The train came out of the tunnel and crossed the valley toward the town. It was dark out and snow was falling. Big fluffy flakes, the kind that piled fast and high and wet.
He rose and stood by the door. The train came to a stop. Rafael Tum strode out across the platform and down a narrow lane. Miguel stood next to me while I watched the professor vanish into the falling snow.
Miguel hoisted the Stone to his shoulder. “What the man said made sense.”
“What do you mean, using it on believers?”
“Exactly.”
“They have rifles,” I said.
“I didn’t say it was going to be easy.”
Major Pavard stood next to me with a phone to his ear. He held up a finger, telling me to wait. While I did, I saw Mark of the Brotherhood approaching with the guy whose name I still didn’t know. Eleven men and women followed them. They worked their way through a herd of black Mercedes G-wagons. He came straight towards me. Everyone in his group watched my eyes.
“I thought Gu Peng sent you home,” I said.
“She did,” Mark said. “We heard about Jenny. We came back to help.”
Miguel pressed his big shoulder against mine. A signal not to overreact. Not to send them away.
“Help?” I asked.
“Look,” Mark said, “I know you don’t like our methods, but you saved my life on the mountain. And everyone loved Jenny. We’re not letting this go. We’re here to take out as many Knights as we can before we … as many as we can.”
Mercury whispered in my ear. Homie, know anyone whose ancestry includes famous guerrilla fighters? Maybe that someone could lead these guys like Crazy Horse.
I said, You mean like Manuelito?
Miguel turned to me. “Sure, I’ve studied Manuelito’s tactics. Not as much got written about him as Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull. We can do this. If you go in the back way, we can take on the main force.”
We had been through too many battles together. He could read my mind.
Pavard put his phone away. “I must return to my duties. But I have spoken to the Austrian authorities. Their drones have identified an area near the base of the cliff warranting further investigation. At my request, they have pulled all their resources back from the town. They wait for the snow to stop. About two hours.” He smiled and patted my shoulder.
Then his smile turned to tears. “When I met her, I thought you two would have many wonderful years together. As many as my wife and I. There must be balance in life. You get these men, Jacob Stearne. They do not deserve to breathe the air she breathed.”
He wiped his eyes and gave me a bear hug. Then he turned and went back to the train.
“I’ll be there, Pavard,” I called after him. “Your place, two weeks.”
He waved without looking back and got onboard.
Miguel tapped my shoulder and pointed at the row of G-wagons. He said, “I called the Munich office. Asked for volunteers and all available hardware.”
CHAPTER 63
We passed an abandoned roadblock outside Obermoos. The village looked like a ghost town. On the edge of town, we found a chopper landing. Ms. Sabel stepped out, fully dressed for battle.
The coordinates Pavard gave me were a mile up the steep slopes from the last building. We had seven volunteers from Sabel Security’s Munich office plus twelve Brothers and an arsenal that would make my old Ranger platoon salivate. Body armor, suppressed MP7s, Sabel Visors, handheld Sabel Darts, green lasers to find tripwires, and other goodies.
We put up a recon drone and found the Knights quickly. We could see they’d built a U-shaped redoubt against a wall of rock hundreds of feet high. Directly behind it was a cave of undetermined depth. Before we could see much else, the drone crashed inside their fortress, weighed down by the heavy snow. So much for the element of surprise.
As the snow fell and the wind picked up, Miguel pulled the group together for a plan of attack.
He said, “It’s a common misconception that Natives attacked like a swarm of bees. They had well drawn concepts and strategies. Each tribe had their own objectives and methods. At Little Big Horn, all the chiefs carried different colored flags to rally their warriors to direct different points of attack. They coordinated with war whoops and whistles made of eagle bone. Lucky for us, we have comm links.
“The warriors were driven by an overwhelming desire to be the bravest. At the battles of Powder River, Arrow Creek, and Little Big Horn, Crazy Horse rode up and down in front of the US Army, letting them shoot at him. He did it because he knew their Springfield rifles would overheat and jam. When that happened, his warriors attacked.”
The Brothers snickered nervously.
“To the whites,” he said, “our attacks looked like chaos. Natives would ride straight at them, then run away. There were no firing lines, no squads, no apparent coordination. Yet each was trying to do something brave that would benefit the other warriors. The whites never realized they were being distracted. Natives confused the whites, then went for the flank. When the soldiers regrouped to face the flank, the warriors would reverse roles and attack head-on again. Just like a pack of predators. One wolf will attack at the nose of an animal while the real attack comes from the flank. And that’s what we’re going to do today. You’re now honorary members of the Wolf Tribe.”
He had them choose the chiefs they wanted to serve and created squads of four and five. They would form the traditional Native half-moon formation around the Knights. Wild and crazy attacks followed by retreats, followed by attacks on the flanks. First one side, then the other. The Knights would think a horde had descended on them.
And that left Ms. Sabel and me free for our mission: to find Mr. Baldy and kill him. If I could get to him quickly enough, I hoped the Knights would surrender. More likely, they would keep fighting for their cause. They had proven themselves dedicated to their cause.
Miguel left his operatives while they donned their battle rattle and came to wish us luck.
Ms. Sabel said, “Good speech, great plan.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I probably cost us the Hopi reservation.” He checked my body armor and brushed snow off my helmet. “Stay frosty, brother.”
Ms. Sabel gave him a hug.
I nodded at the group. “What role are you playing? Are you going to be Crazy Horse?”
“Crazy Horse rode a fast horse and got lucky. Sitting Bull saw what the younger chief did, and went out, sat down, and smoked a full pipe while bullets buzzed his head. That’s the kind of chief I want to be.” He pounded his fist to his chest, formed a peace symbol, then strode away.
We slipped into the trees and climbed the hill toward the base of the cliff parallel to the Knight’s position. I scanned our path with the green laser visible only in my Sabel Visor searching for trip wires. When we got to the tree line, we turned left and stayed in the trees.
The snow came down faster. Clumps the size of soccer balls fell from branches. Tripwires would get buried in the snow, eventually making my green laser useless. We slowed and looked for footprints. Early in a snowstorm, they would be visible. As fast as it was coming down, that trick wouldn’t work long.
After a hundred yards, I saw them seconds before they saw me. Two Knights opened fire as I crouched behind a pine. Ms. Sabel laid down suppressive fire over my head. I backed up, reusing my tracks. When I’d backed up twenty yards, I jumped out of the tracks and over a fallen log. She did the same thing at a different angle. We waited.
A full minute went by before curiosity got the better of the Knights. They followed my footprints with a professional separation between them. I couldn’t see Ms. Sabel, and it was too quiet to use the comm link without giving away our position. We had to count on each other to maximize our element of surprise. Because of their separation among the trees, I could see only one of the Knights. I popped up and missed the first guy. While he wheeled to face me, Ms. Sabel dropped him.
The second Knight vanished.
Which was a problem. I circled his last position in a wide arc. He wasn’t there. Thinking like a Turkmen wasn’t my forte, but it occurred to me he might try the same trick. If he’d made his in a counter-arc, I was safe, but if he were on the same path only deeper, he could be behind me. I couldn’t find him. I figured that must be what he was doing.
I dropped and rolled as his three-round burst blew the bark off the tree nearest me. I heard Ms. Sabel firing. From where I’d last seen her, she couldn’t possibly have him in her sights. She was distracting him. I spun, rolled, and got off a three-round burst of my own. The last one hit him in the back.
Mercury popped up out of the snow. If they’re expecting you on this route, homie, maybe—just maybe—you oughta consider a different route. Seeing as how you can’t see tripwires and all, definitely take a different route.
I said, Where else is there to go?
Mercury looked at the cliff across two hundred yards of snow-covered scree.
No way, I said. If he sees me, I’d be a sitting duck. Besides, I don’t have any hardware.
Mercury said, Crazy Horse wouldn’t need no hardware. Besides, you got Pia-Caesar-Sabel with you and she’s as brave as any Native chief.
The worst problem about having a personal relationship with god is when he tells you to do something and you know he’s right, but you don’t want to.
I took a deep breath and started trudging toward the cliff. Ms. Sabel stayed to the trail, a few yards back to cover my exposed position. If someone looked up, she would shoot him. If he didn’t, she was a sitting duck.
I climbed the steep slope sideways, keeping my rifle ready in case someone saw me.
But they didn’t. They were certain I was coming through the woods. And the skirmish had proven them right.
When I reached it, I walked at or near the base until their stronghold was below me. From there, I had the perfect view of Miguel’s battle. It had just begun.
True to his word, Miguel walked out into the open waving a white flag and carrying the Poison Stone cradled in a blanket. He held it high and took a step left as someone shot at him. He stepped right as another round came in. Then he set the blanket and Stone down gently, as a round skimmed his armor. He raised his rifle and fired back. That silenced the Knights. They dove for cover.
But his challenge was clear: the winner keeps the Stone.
Miguel let out a frightening war whoop. One I’d heard on our many death-defying missions. Three Brothers ran out of the woods behind him racing for the ramparts, shouting and screaming and firing. Every Knight in the compound watched the attack. No one saw me.
Brothers attacked the left flank. The entire group of Knights turned to face the new danger. More Brothers ran in from the right. They were able to toss flash-bangs inside the perimeter. The Knights shot back. The Brothers ran back to the trees. Thirty seconds after it started, the area was silent.
A terrific plan. The Knight’s defense started to unravel. Two leaders took control, ordering thei
r men to focus only on their assigned areas. Discipline in the face of chaos. It was the orderly thing to do.
On the trail behind me, a bomb went off. The explosion grabbed everyone’s attention. Ms. Sabel reported herself safe and surmised a tripwire had been weighted by the snow. I couldn’t make a sound being directly above three Knights.
On the comm, Miguel said, “Pia, Jacob, speak to me.”
“The reports of our deaths are greatly exaggerated,” Ms. Sabel said.
“Jerks. I’m busy here.” He went back to work.
The Brothers attacked again. This time coming from different directions with different patterns. While the Knights were bewildered, Miguel and Mark ran to the Freedom Stone. Each man grabbed one side of the blanket and carried it between them. While the Knights focused on the attacks from both flanks, Miguel and Mark used the blanket like a slingshot, launching it into the thickest group of Knights. It hit one man in the head, knocking him down. Two others picked up the Stone. Suddenly, they looked confused.
I heard Mr. Baldy’s voice shout, “Don’t touch it with bare hands, you fools!”
A man with gloves on picked it up, but one of the first men to touch it, snatched it away from him. Confusion engulfed them.
From where I was, I could see a group of Brothers crawling on their bellies through the snow to the right flank. When they reached the bulwark, they rose and fired.
Instead of pressing the attack, they ran away as fast as they could go. Several Knights gave chase. A fatal mistake. The retreating Brothers led the Knights into an ambush. Inside the fortress, the leaders tried to reassign Knights to the abandoned posts. But the Stone’s chaos continued, thinning their defense even further.
In all the years we served together, Miguel always took orders and executed battle plans according to the military officers. They should’ve asked him for advice. The man Mercury called Monster Slayer was Sitting Bull reincarnated.
Satisfied he had it under control, I scaled the icy rocks with toe and fingerholds. I needed only enough height to be unnoticed should a Knight turn around. People don’t look up unless they see movement. I climbed to thirty feet, not a deadly elevation but a potential leg-breaker. I found a ledge a bit higher and made my way until it thinned out. From there, I had nowhere to go but down.