by Roy Bright
***
As the sun set over the Lancashire landscape and the night air breathed a chill, Judas Iscariot walked out of the village of flames and blood dripped from his sword. His face bore no emotion. His eyes harbored no regret.
Twenty-Three
Himalayas, Tibet – 1938
Tuesday. Dawn. Cold
Sergeant Ed Harrison scraped along the frozen snow as he slid down toward the rest of his eight-man squad, crouched behind a large icy outcrop overlooking a Tibetan temple. He adjusted the position of his M1 Garand rifle’s sling as it threatened to slip from his shoulder, forcing the weapon back into place. He cupped his hands together, breathing into them, attempting to remove the biting chill with his warm breath. It wasn’t working.
Ed has been with the 101st Airborne for a little over four years and had seen more action than most. Originally a farmhand from Moffett, Oklahoma, his rise to the rank of Sergeant had been meteoric, having gained a field promotion due to the death of his friend and mentor Billy Thomas at the hands of a German sniper. His respect for Billy had been immense and his death had hit him hard, but the men needed him. He was their towering rock, invincible and fearless, and they had as much faith in him as he had in Billy. The choice to accept the position had not been an option; it had been a necessity to ensure that as many of his boys as possible made it home after the war. That was a promise he had made to them and one that up to now he had kept, as no matter how dire a situation his squad had faced, they had always come out of it without losing a single man. His men needed him, and he needed them.
Corporal Danny ‘Guzzi’ Guzauski passed Ed his helmet. “So what’s the deal boss? How many we got?”
He adjusted the straps on his helmet and then put it on. “Lots, Guzzi,” he says with a sigh. “Lots. I have no idea how we are gonna gain entry without being seen.” He looked around at the rest of his men and then back at Guzzi. “We need a plan that involves a rapid descent into the temple entrance below, the removal of four well-armed guards with no exchange of gunfire, and then engage what appears to be a platoon-sized force of Shock Troopers – with just eight paratroopers.” He huffed and rubbed his chin, attempting a smile.
His men found the look disconcerting.
“You asking for suggestions, Sergeant?” A man’s voice said from the back of the squad.
Ed looks up. “Yes I am, Mr Jude, I am indeed and I would very much like to know what me and my boys are about to walk into because that is one sizeable force down there for a shitty little temple in the Himalayas. So I wanna know what they are here for and I also wanna know who you and the Father there really work for?”
Before Judas could respond, Father Fitzgerald’s well-spoken British voice interrupted him. “Sergeant. I am sure you of all people can fully appreciate the need for secrecy when it comes to the identity of Allied agents?”
Ed looked unimpressed.
“Suffice to say, Sergeant, Mr Jude and I have the best interests of your men and, indeed, the entire world at heart but I must ask that you trust us for the time being. When the time comes, and if I deem it appropriate, I will tell you everything that you and your men need to know. For now, we must devise a plan to get into that temple and stop what those men are about to do.” He stared at Ed for a moment, his eyes pleading and then opened up his small gray knapsack sat at his feet. He removed a small flask, opened it, and took a sip of its contents. His face screwed up at the taste of the strong alcohol and he offered it to Ed.
Ed stared back at him, then took a deep breath, and accepted the flask. He took a couple of large swigs and passed it back.
During his brief journey with him, Ed had mused at how un-priest-like he was. A man in his mid-twenties, dressed in combat clothing, he had moved with the same prowess as any member of his squad and had indeed offered valuable intelligence on Nazi encampments along the way. So much so that Ed had thought he was actually a British intelligence agent and not a priest as introduced by his Commanding Officer a few days earlier.
Ed screwed up his face. “Father, I made a promise to each and every one of these boys that I would get them home safe and that is what I intend to do, so I need to know everything that you know and I need to know it now. Please.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you have no control over, Sergeant Harrison,” Judas said, taking off his thick overcoat.
“I’m sorry, what?” Ed replied, his face like thunder, incensed by the remark.
“This is war, Sergeant. Unless you have control over the flight path of bullets or that a tank won’t fire your way instead of another, then you should never make promises of that nature. Trust me, you just shouldn’t.”
“Trust you? Trust… you?” He moved closer to him, his anger at the man’s flippancy growing. “Mister, I barely know you. You and the priest here were dumped on me by the higher ups without so much as a ‘how-do-you-do’ and you expect me to trust you? Well I’m sorry to dent your massive fucking ego but no, I don’t trust you – either of you.”
A small amount of laughter rippled from his men and Ed looked at them.
Judas smiled. He looked around at the faces of the young men, some barely out of their teens.
They were doing their best to look tough but failing as their laughter served only to disguise their fear. The uncertainty of the situation they were expected to walk into had them spooked, that much was clear – more so than any other combat situation they had faced.
Judas was more than aware of the look and smell of fear. He had felt the bitter sting of its presence countless times throughout the centuries. He had seen it grip those whom he cared about and tear them down into nothing. As he stared at the soldier’s tense faces, an emotion hit him, one that he had not felt in as long as he could remember: pity. His intention had not been to terrify these men; on the contrary, he would much rather this terrible war ended right now and have them all transported home to their loved ones than have them accompany him down into that temple. But he could not. As much power as he possessed, such a thing was way out of his remit, and what the Nazis were about to do needed to be dealt with for the sake of the entire world. He needed those men to remain calm and to trust him. He adjusted his tact.
“Sergeant. All I need you and your men to do for us to successfully complete this mission is to hang back, take shots only when necessary, and to keep as many of the enemy off my back as possible and ensure Father Fitzgerald here survives. I do not need you or your guys to do anything more dangerous than you have already, I just need you to keep time on my side. Time is my biggest concern, Sergeant.” He looked around at the men again. “You boys are the 101st. I know you are more than capable of handling this.”
The air of tension surrounding them relaxed a little.
Ed laughed and clicked his tongue. “Okay, Mr Jude, you’re calling the shots and that’s all well and good. But how do you propose we assault that position undetected? Do you guys have some sort of invisibility machine tucked away there or something?”
This time the laughter from the men was more acute.
Judas smirked and raised his eyebrows. “Invisibility, huh? Now that would be something I could put to damn good use.” He smiled, and then picked up a long and slender item wrapped in cloth. He unraveled the cloth to reveal two gleaming katana swords.
“Whoa!” Ed said, taken aback. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s what you intend to fight a Nazi Shock Troop Force with?”
Judas laughed and handed the swords to Father Fitzgerald who set about blessing them. Judas cocked his head to one side a little, then shook his head.
“Well, it can’t hurt,” the Father said, with a small shrug.
Judas reached down into his backpack, drew out a harness designed to holster the swords, and slipped it on.
For the first time since he had engaged the man in conversation on the mountainside almost five minutes ago, Ed realized that Mr Jude had been without an overcoat and yet exhibited no symptoms whatsoever of feeling the biti
ng cold. “Who the hell are you?” he said, baffled by the entire situation.
Judas took the swords from Father Fitzgerald and then slid them up into the reversed harness. “I’m the man whose gonna break one of my own rules and promise that you and your men will get out of this alive, Ed.” He moved past them and climbed up to the edge of the plateau that overlooked the temple. He checked below and then glanced back. “Don’t look. Give it five minutes, then rappel down. It will be clear.”
He dove off the edge.
Ed and the rest of the men gasped and attempted to scramble to their feet.
“Sergeant!” Father Fitzgerald called out, his voice stern and controlling.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“My man asked for you not to look, and for five minutes. Please, allow him that and I am positive he will keep his promise to you and your men.”
Ed and his team sunk back down into their cover positions, mouths agape, and wondering what was going on, with more questions than ever before.
Ed held up a finger. “Seriously, Father, who the fuck is that guy?”
“Well, Sergeant Harrison, it would appear that my man may have forced my hand a little with that stunt.” He paused and Ed held up both of his hands to speed him along.
“Quite. Sergeant, I am a member of the British Occult Division. It is our responsibility, along with our American counterparts, to seek out Nazi areas of occult interest and if they intend to do anything particularly damaging with what they find, which they frequently do, then we are here to stop them.”
“So who’s the freakin’ Superman who just jumped off a 200 foot ice ledge then?” Guzzi asked.
“That, Corporal, is one of our agents – for the time being at least. He can do things other men cannot.” He sighed. “Look, I don’t think any of your men could fully comprehend the nature of that man so please just assist us in doing our job, which is to prevent the Nazis from sacrificing the child and—”
“Child?” Ed says. “What child? No-one mentioned that our mission was to rescue a child.”
Father Fitzgerald sighed again and closed his eyes while pursing his lips. “The Nazis plan to sacrifice a child in order to…” he paused for a moment, then opened his eyes, and looked into the faces of the men, all eager to hear what he had to say, like children drawn into an adventure story, “…in order to raise a demon from Hell.”
Ed stared at him in disbelief and then burst into laughter. “You’re fucking kidding, right? This is some sort of joke – you’re fucking with us… yeah?”
“Look, Sergeant, whether you believe it or not is irrelevant. There is a child down there with some rather terrible people who believe that what they are doing will work,” he looked down at his hands, “and I believe that it will work too, so please, just do your jobs and then you may go about your lives, never to speak of this again.”
Guzzi tugged at Ed’s sleeve. “I reckon it’s been about five minutes now boss. I wanna look.”
Ed nodded at him and they crawled up the slope toward the edge and peered over. Standing over the body of one of the guards, who were all now dead, was Mr Jude. Ed glanced at Guzzi.
“Don’t fuckin’ ask me,” Guzzi said, his eyebrows raised.
Ed stared at him for a moment then turned back toward the squad. “It’s go time.” He pointed at two of them. “Jonno and Donny, you guys fix our lines into the ice here, make sure you have a solid placement and then rappel down. Secure the drop point and steady the line for the followers.”
“Sergeant!” both men replied in unison and then made their way to the edge of the outcrop, readying their equipment as they went.
Ed and Guzzi moved to allow them to pass and then Ed addressed two others.
“Jackson, Carter, you two next. Cover either side of the entrance and let us know if anything moves. Do not fire unless you have absolutely no other choice. Got it?”
They nodded, their actions stern and then they made their way to the edge.
“As soon as we have the entrance secured, I want the rest of you down as fast as you can, no dicking around. Get into position and await further instructions.”
“The entrance is secure, Sergeant,” Father Fitzgerald replied.
“The entrance is secure, Father, when I say it is secure, and not a moment before. We clear?”
Father Fitzgerald offered a wry smile.
“And what about you, Father? How are your rappelling skills?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me, Sergeant, I shall do just fine thank you. I have had training from the Royal Marines, you know.”
“Oh really,” Ed replied, “Well, fine then.”
Jonno and Donny completed securing their ropes and then tugged hard at them several times to ensure a solid connection to the rock face. Standing, they grabbed their ropes, hooked on, and then rappelled to the ground below. Once at the bottom, they disconnected and took up position as instructed to assist the remaining squad’s descent.
Jackson and Carter followed them down. Upon landing, they disconnected and sprinted to the temple entrance, ignoring Judas, finding cover against the temple wall. They then took up positions either side of the temple entrance.
The rest of the squad were quick to arrive in pairs, taking up positions either side of the wall. As Ed approached the entrance, he cast an eye over the dead German soldiers and then looked at Judas. “A magician never reveals his secrets, huh?”
Judas smiled. “Sergeant, I want to talk to you about what will happen next and then have you brief your men. It will be much better that way, rather than me stepping in front of you. Don’t you think?”
He did think, and agreed, nodding.
“Okay then, Ed,” Judas smiled, “May I call you Ed?”
“You may,” he said, offering a smile of his own.
“Ed, I need your two men covering the entrance to remain as they are and I need you to assign two others to stay with them. Next I require you and Corporal…” he clicks his fingers.
“Guzauski,” Ed said, prompting him. “Just call him Guzzi, it’s fine.”
Judas nodded. “Okay then. I need you and Corporal Guzzi here—”
“It’s just Guzzi.”
Judas’s shoulders dropped and he motioned with his head. “You and that guy over there…”
They both chuckled.
“…with two other men, to accompany me and the Father deeper into the temple. If memory serves me correct, I’ll need those two guys to secure the stairs leading down into the inner chamber while—”
“Wait, you’ve been here before?”
“Yeah, although it was an eternity ago and its inhabitants were much, much nicer people than its current occupants.”
“Seriously, man,” Ed said, tired confusion spread across his face, “who are you?”
Judas sighed. “Another time perhaps. Right now we have a very pressing matter to attend to and I am running out of time and options.”
“Fine,” Ed conceded. “What if we run into more guards?”
“Aside from the entrance, they won’t station guards along the way. They don’t know we are coming which is why they had such a small contingent on guard duty.”
“Fair enough,” Ed said, nodding.
“Okay, so once your men have the stairs secured, the four of us will head down and you and Guzzi will take up position at the entrance in case any try to make a break for it.”
“And what will you do?”
“Me?” he said, his eyebrows raised. “I’m going to run in and kill every last fucking one of them.”
Ed smiled. “Now that’s a plan I can get on board with.” He turned and walked over to his men. “Listen up.”
Ed passed the plan on to his men, making it clear that every one of them needed to pay attention and that there were to be no questions.
With his guards stationed and readied, Ed gathered the attack force and headed into the temple. Inside, he was happy to see all of the torches lit, offering sufficient illu
mination to proceed unhindered by the dark. “Let’s hope the Nazis lit every torch in here,” he said with a smirk.