War Mountain

by Jerry Ahern

  “We are going to reverse that, however,” Rourke told them. “We’re coming in the front and Commander Washington’s force will come in at the service entrance when it’s time. If we still have any air cover, after the nuclear blasts we detected, that air cover will strike against the mountain face. That means we have all three approaches—which are also the only three means of exit—covered.”

  “How do we get in the front, Daddy?” Annie asked him.

  “Yeah, ‘Daddy,’ how?” Paul echoed.

  John Rourke felt himself smiling in spite of the situation. “Funny that you should ask,” he retorted. “All kidding aside, I considered the obvious things, knowing that Zimmer would consider them, too, and I felt that deviousness could best be combated by simplicity and openness.”

  “We just go up to the gates and knock,” Natalia said, laughing.

  John Rourke had seen such reactions before, where people in extreme danger, virtual no-win situations, resorted to levity as a means of denying the reality of their imminent demise. Yet, the laughter, the positiveness of it, seemed to renew courage and will. And, it was infectious. “No, we’re not going to knock on the gates. We won’t have to.”

  “I don’t understand,” Michael said.

  “All right,” John Rourke told his family. “Look at what we know. Deitrich Zimmer evidently has access to every detail of our backgrounds, as much as is known, at least, by the Trans-Global Alliance, the United States, and the government of Eden. He’s a skilled research scientist, and he’s utilizing the same procedures with us that he’d utilize in the laboratory. We’re the rats, and we’re sitting right now in an anteroom to the side of the maze we’ve been moving through ever since this started. He thinks he knows us so well that he can predict behaviors. And, up until now, he’s been right. He’s even, I’m sure, predicted a conversation such as this. The one thing he cannot predict is that we would do something which is totally illogical. That wouldn’t fit at all. Look at Natalia’s KGB background, my background—we both have a long track record of such operations and we know what doesn’t work, so we’d never try it.”

  Rourke looked at Paul. “Paul, your background in publishing, and with computers—it’s the same thing. And Michael, Annie, he’s counting on the fact that the two of you have become so involved in the scheme of the things we do, that those procedures are inculcated in you both.

  “Deitrich Zimmer,” Rourke continued, “knows that I could no more ignore the option of potentially rescuing my wife than I could ignore the evil of his philosophy of National Socialism and racial superiority. He knows that we have to do just what he wants us to do. But he could not anticipate a totally illogical response.”

  “So, then we do knock on the front gates,” Natalia said.

  “Only figuratively, Natalia. Only figuratively.”

  “What will we do then?” Annie asked.

  “The classic ways in which one gets inside an enemy castle—which is basically the situation with which we are confronted—are these: one either storms the gates in force, surreptitiously goes over the walls, finds some sort of secret entrance, disguises oneself as friendly force members or disguises oneself as some sort of harmless innocent.”

  “Those are the only ways, aren’t they?” Michael asked. “I mean, what’s left?”

  “There’s nothing left, which is why if we don’t use one of the prescribed methods, Deitrich Zimmer will be unable to counter us and we’ll slip past his trap because he won’t know we’re inside it.”

  “How, Dad?” Michael persisted.

  “By not going in at all, in a sense, at least not until the garrison leaves.”

  Michael blinked his eyes, said, “What’s going to make the garrison abandon the headquarters?”

  “This should do it.” John Rourke announced, taking from one pocket of his backpack a small box. “And the others like it.” There was a combination lock set into the box. Rourke punched in the code, the box lid swung open. The box’s interior was of heavy foam padding, as was the lining of the lid. Notched into the interior was a cutout, and nested there was a glass vial, inside the vial a pale green liquid. “Deitrich Zimmer, because he is so brilliant, is also somewhat cocky. And, as all of you now would be too polite to agree, if anyone should be capable of recognizing overwhelming ego, it would be me.” Rourke allowed himself a smile. “Zimmer’s ego, however, is the machine of his defeat and of our victory.”

  “What’s in the vial, Daddy?”

  “Annie, inside this vial is a serum. My backpack, which I left at the aircraft and retrieved after we knocked out Zimmer’s forces there, contains little else but hypodermic syringes. Each of you knows how to use a syringe and each of you will be called upon to do so.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The exhaustion came upon her so quickly that she was barely able to sit down. And now, after less than an hour as she judged it, Almost-Sarah could barely keep her eyes open, and when she did, she saw two of Wolfgang Mann in the bunk opposite her. He had remained immobile for some time now, his chest rising and falling regularly enough—the real Sarah had been a nurse and Almost-Sarah supposed that was why she was able to view what was happening so clinically.

  The thing about him that was extremely odd was that his right arm had extended toward his head, but never quite made it. And, it just stayed there, as if floating in the air, almost imperceptibly sinking toward his chest.

  At the back of her mind—one of the real Sarah’s memories, no doubt—she remembered this as a symptom of some horrible disease.

  But, she couldn’t remember which disease, because her head ached so badly.

  The guards should have come with the midday meal, but no one had opened their door for a very long time now.

  Her joints hurt badly whenever she tried to move, and she would nod off, and when she awakened and tried to move, shooting pains ran through her arms and legs.

  Her mouth was dry.

  When she awakened this last time—and it was very difficult for her to know what was actual wakefulness and what was sleep anymore—she found that her right hand was moving, as if she were drawing a sketch of something. How long ago was it that she had actually drawn anything? She used to draw for children’s books. But, that was the real Sarah who did that.

  Wolfgang Mann was getting up, but he was still in his cot. There were two of him. “You are not the real Sarah, and you are evil!” Wolf told her.

  She kept up the lie, “I am—” But her mouth was so dry that she couldn’t talk without her throat closing and with coughing racking her body. And that made her ache so badly that the sleep came again.

  And, she dreamed that she was with John and Michael and Annie and they were in a beautiful valley. But there was something odd about John. He wasn’t carrying his guns. In fact, he didn’t have a single gun on his body. She could see that perfectly clearly and she asked him, “Why aren’t you armed, John?”

  “Because everything is peaceful now and I don’t need to be armed at all.”

  She did not understand this, because things were not peaceful at all. Behind him, sneaking up on them, was this horrible man with piercing eyes and she was holding her baby son and her body ached almost as badly as it did now and the man leveled the gun at her head and pulled the trigger and, although she knew it was impossible, she could see the bullet coming right at her head and feel it as it struck her head and feel her baby falling from her arms. But she had to hold the baby very tightly so he wouldn’t be hurt, because he was perfect and he looked just like Michael had looked, and that was just like John, and the baby was so special to her.

  Tears. Pain. Sleep.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  “What have you done, John?” Natalia asked John Rourke, suddenly more grateful than she had ever realized she could be, that she was the woman of a man who was only a man and not so far beyond the abilities of other men.

  “I planned ahead for Zimmer bringing me to his lair,” John Rourke told her, told them
all.

  Natalia listened, waiting. She realized that her breathing was very rapid and she was suddenly very uncomfortable. “And?” Natalia grasped for Michael’s hand, sliding her hand beneath his. He held her hand tightly.

  “Between 1917 and 1929,” John told them, “there was a disease which baffled scientists nearly as much as did the AIDS epidemic.” John Rourke paused, then closed his eyes. “The disease was called encephalitis lethargica, and at first it was improperly diagnosed, because so many of the symptoms were identical to those of the influenza outbreak which followed the Great War and claimed so many lives. The earliest cataloging of the disease was by Constantin von Economo of Vienna, a professor of psychiatry and neurology at that city’s university—not from someone actually within the classic medical community. Cases were found most prevalent during the winter months. In 1924, at its height, it was a severe public health threat, but within five years the disease had all but disappeared, leaving little behind but victims.

  “Keep in mind, of course, that there were fifteen million people who died between 1917 and 1919 from the influenza outbreak. That was a tragedy of biblical proportions, a plague in every sense of the word, but a plague which could have been eradicated with some of the simplest of drugs that were commonplace in the days Before the Night of the War. The disease, which is not to be confused with similar symptoms which resulted from the bite of the tsetse fly, was commonly referred to as sleeping sickness. Some sufferers experienced such marked symptoms that they fell into comas and, in some cases, survived in this manner for years, even decades, never coming out of their sleep. Encephalitis lethargica’s cause, although it is definitely known to be a viral disorder, remains unknown. However, it can be duplicated and redesigned.”

  “My God,” Natalia whispered, believing the name as she said it.

  “Schlafkrankheit, the identical disease, perhaps, or a quite similar strain, struck Germany in the eighteenth century. Some cases of what could be interpreted as encephalitis lethargica were reported in England prior to the general outbreak at the beginning of the twentieth century. The same diseases reoccurred among the population of New Germany during the period in which we last took the Sleep. Involuntary muscle spasms, rapid breathing, muscle aches, headache, and a wealth of other symptoms, besides the obvious one of profound sleep, were exhibited. The one conclusive symptom which evinced itself was double vision, uncommon in influenza, and, this peculiarity led to the discovery of the disease.

  “I anticipated, when Deitrich Zimmer contacted us to set up the initial meeting, to exchange Martin—whom I’m sure now, he knew even then, was dead, if indeed the man I killed was Martin and not a clone—I anticipated that Zimmer would, because of his ego, invite me to see his facility, allow me to view Sarah. And, it only seemed logical to assume that something wasn’t right, that the trade would never be accomplished, and that if I had the chance to be inside the enemy headquarters, I had to capitalize on the opportunity, effect whatever positive value from the episode that could be had. So, I considered my options and arrived at what I found to be the only viable solution, disease.

  “Of course, I had to select the proper disease, so that it would strike quickly and profoundly, but be susceptible to a cure. I had no desire to be a mass murderer, nor certainly to cause the death of Sarah or Wolfgang Mann.

  “There was little chance,” John Rourke said, taking one of his thin, dark tobacco cigars from his parka, then lighting it in the blue-yellow flame of his battered Zippo, “that any true military solution was possible, and since Zimmer was possessed of such great intelligence, there was little chance of using guile to obtain the inevitable end we would seek. So, I went to the finest medical library in Hawaii.

  “I discovered,” he went on, “that encephalitis lethargica had occurred in New Germany about fifty years ago and, although many were stricken, modern medical technology was able to effect a cure through a vaccine, which would prevent the disease among those persons not already infected. I consulted with Intelligence in New Germany in order to find the medical authority most conversant with the disease. I explained my potential problem and she assisted in developing—very quickly, because we had precious little time—both a vectoring method and the other details required.

  “Another reason for selecting encephalitis lethargica was that it had occurred, at about the same time, in Hawaii. Medical personnel from New Germany shared their technology and specimens of the viral agent as it existed in Hawaii. It was perfect.

  “But, I had to think of a way of distributing the virus in such a manner that it would actually grip the majority of the population within the Nazi headquarters.

  “For that,” John explained, “I required an innocuous method of disseminating the virus.” He looked at Paul. “Do you recall my having a delivery made from Lancer Firearms just before our aircraft left for Canada?”

  “Yeah. I don’t understand what that has—”

  “I had a magazine for a German MP-40 sent to me, pulled the follower and the spring, placed the follower in the top of the magazine in such a manner that it would pivot, and used the magazine as the container for the aerosol—nothing harmful to the ozone, of course—but used the magazine to contain my vectoring device. The spare magazine was stuffed in the waistband of my trousers when I borrowed your Schmiesser as a close-range weapon when I went to visit Deitrich Zimmer’s headquarters. As I moved through the building, I merely tapped the single cartridge I’d glued to the follower of the trick magazine. This released a small amount of the contents of the container secreted within the magazine. I spread the virus throughout every area of the compound through which I was brought.”

  “That’s incredible,” Michael said.

  Natalia said nothing.

  John said, “But, of course, I’d already had myself vaccinated and had the clothing I wore treated with a compound which prevents viral contamination. So, I did what I came for and left, leaving behind enough viral agent to incapacitate thousands of people, and very quickly, within approximately forty-eight hours, dependent of course upon the general state of the individual’s health. And, I had enough vaccine produced—that was another criterion, which fortunately the disease allowed, that vaccine could be produced within hours using modern technology—but I had enough produced that I could safely be able to vaccinate three times the number of infected persons.

  “By now,” John said, glancing almost perfunctorily at the Rolex on his wrist, “the entire headquarters complex will be stricken. We can walk in. And, of course, anyone who left the facility—such as Dr. Zimmer—will require the vaccine as well.”

  “Couldn’t this start an epidemic?”

  “Not really,” John told them. “The virus doesn’t survive in extreme cold temperatures, and Deitrich Zimmer’s army will remain as an integral unit. As soon as our business here is done, for humanitarian reasons Zimmer’s forces will be notified and whatever quantity of vaccine might be required will be supplied.

  “After administration of the vaccine, symptoms disappear in less than a few hours. It was totally luck, but it’s our ticket in and out alive with Sarah and Wolfgang,” John told them, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “Now, let’s everyone roll up his or her sleeve and we’ll get started.”

  Natalia was speechless.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Deitrich Zimmer recognized the symptoms as soon as they occurred, and even before ordering that necessary countermeasures should be taken and quantities of appropriate vaccine prepared, he considered the fact that John Rourke had outsmarted him, would evade the trap he had set because no personnel would be well enough to bring it off.

  And, despite the pain in his head, the muscle spasms, the feeling of lethargy, Deitrich Zimmer laughed and shouted, “Bravo!” Here, indeed, was the worthiest adversary he could encounter.

  Immediately, he ordered his pilot, who was beginning to experience symptoms, to land at the nearest available Eden base where a small quantity of vaccine, prepared t
o his order, would be in progress of preparation—if they could land while the pilot or copilot was still able.

  Assuming they made a safe landing, in only a few hours after the vaccine’s administration, Zimmer would be fit enough to travel again. The work done in New Germany fifty years ago in order to counter an outbreak of encephalitis lethargica had been so expert that use of the disease in biological warfare would be grossly impractical, except in such a limited application as John Rourke had chosen as his means of overpowering the headquarters garrison. It was not even necessary for Deitrich Zimmer to bother contacting his commander there. The use of encephalitis lethargica was so patently and unexpectedly brilliant that it could not possibly have been countered by anyone but a trained medical professional, and even at that, not in time to preclude wholesale inability for duty.

  Dr. John Thomas Rourke displayed true genius. Rourke had obviously disseminated the viral agent during the time he spent at the headquarters in what had been northwestern Canada, before the Night of the War, visiting there at Zimmer’s own invitation. Rourke would have known full well that the strain of encephalitis lethargica he utilized, the same strain which had caused the outbreak in New Germany, would take forty-eight hours or slightly more, depending on the health of the victim, in order to manifest itself. Once symptoms appeared, however, the disease took hold with lightning quickness.

  Deitrich Zimmer had only a slight worry, that the double vision he was beginning to experience would be experienced by his air crew as well, and precipitate a crash. Yet, if this form in which he lived died, this body perished, Martin had strict instructions on exactly how to bring one of the waiting clones out of cryogenic Sleep and program its brain with Zimmer’s memories. Right down to using the last recording which Zimmer had transmitted only a short while ago.