The Mountain

by Richard Turner

  “My pleasure, gentlemen,” replied Simcoe with a broad smile on his tanned face. He raised his glass and said, “To better days.”

  “To better days,” said Shaw and Bruce, before taking a sip of Scotch.

  “Did you manage to get done what you wanted to do today?” asked Simcoe.

  “Yes, thank you, Colonel,” replied Shaw. “Your people were most helpful. We managed to scatter the ashes in a beautiful spot a couple of miles down the coast. I’m sure Miss York would have approved.”

  “I’m glad that I could have been of service to you,” said Simcoe.

  Shaw set his glass down and looked over at Simcoe. “Sir, have you heard anything from our superiors? We’ve been here for over a week now. I would have expected to hear something from them by now.”

  “I think the delay has something to do with the report you wrote.”

  “Oh, how so, sir?”

  “Well, my dear boy, even I had a hard time believing what you wrote. After all, it seems so farfetched. A desperate fight for survival on the side of a mountain in Tibet infested with man-eating primeval beasts on one side and Nazis on the other sounds more like a Hollywood picture than reality!”

  Shaw shrugged his shoulders. “I only wrote what happened. Whether or not people think I’ve gone insane is up to them.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you’ve lost your marbles, Captain. I’ve been out here in India for almost thirty years. I’ve seen things that would seem quite amazing and preposterous back home. Perhaps we should just drop the subject all together. After all, we are all nothing more than humble servants of the crown.”

  “Or the president,” said Shaw grinning.

  “Yes, of course,” replied Simcoe before taking along sip of his Scotch.

  A young Indian orderly walked over, came smartly to attention and then saluted Simcoe.

  “Yes, Sipahi, what is it?” said Simcoe to the Indian private.

  “Sir, there is someone in your office to see the two gentlemen,” reported the soldier.

  “Did he give you his name?” asked Simcoe.

  “No, sir, it’s an English lady.”

  “Very good, Sipahi, please tell her that we’ll be along shortly,” said Simcoe.

  “Yes, sir,” said the soldier.

  “Were you expecting anyone?” asked Shaw.

  “No,” replied Simcoe. “This is most peculiar. Shall we see who your mystery guest is?”

  Standing, Shaw said, “Lead on, sir.”

  As they walked towards Simcoe’s office, Shaw felt the heat shimmering off the dusty parade ground. He chuckled to himself thinking that just a month ago, he had been fighting for his life on a frozen landscape, and now he was sweating under the broiling sun. A couple of Indian Sikh soldiers at the entrance to the headquarters building smartly presented arms as Simcoe walked inside. They headed upstairs to Simcoe’s office.

  In the room was a woman wearing a khaki blouse and tight-fitting skirt and with a briefcase in her hands. A pair of silver-rimmed glasses rested on her slight, upturned nose. Her chestnut brown eyes instantly locked on Shaw.

  Shaw grinned. “Well, if it isn’t Miss..?”

  “White, Elizabeth White, is her name,” said Bruce. “If that is her real name.”

  “You’ve met before?” said Simcoe.

  “Oh yes, Miss White is one of Professor Hill’s people,” explained Shaw.

  “I’m pleased to see that you remembered my name,” said White.

  “Well, last time we met, you were less than civil to me,” said Bruce.

  “Yes, I do apologize for my behavior. We didn’t have much time before you had to leave, and you were somewhat, shall we say, chauvinistic in your observations,” said White.

  “So, Miss White, what brings you all the way out here? Certainly not to pay us a social call?” said Shaw.

  “Hardly,” replied White dryly. “I was on assignment in Cairo when I was asked to come here and personally convey Professor Hill’s congratulations on accomplishing your mission. He is happy that you both made it out alive, but wished that you could have brought the device out with you.”

  Shaw shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint the good professor, but we’re lucky to have escaped with our lives. I hope you’re not wasting your time by coming here to tell us something the good professor could have told us back home.”

  “I’ll get to the point. You’re not going back to England,” said White, “at least not yet.”

  “And why’s that?” said Bruce, sounding irritated.

  “Because I have orders to escort you both to Cairo without delay. Once there, I am to brief you on your next assignment,” explained White.

  Bruce looked over at Shaw with a look that said that she had to be kidding.

  Shaw forced a smile. “Miss White, do you have any idea what Sergeant Bruce and I have just been though? I’m exhausted, as is Bruce. We need a break from fieldwork, if only for another month or so.”

  “I’m sorry, Captain. I have my orders,” said White. With that, she opened her briefcase and handed a sealed envelope to Shaw. “And now, gentlemen, you have yours.”

  Shaw took the letter, opened it, and skimmed over the contents before handing the orders to Bruce to read.

  “So when do we leave?” asked Shaw, resigned to his fate.

  “I have a plane waiting for us at the airfield,” said White.

  Simcoe scrunched up his face and then said, “Sounds like you’re in a damned hurry to get back to Cairo.”

  “I am,” said White.

  Bruce shook his head as he handed their orders back to White. “Why have I never heard of this? What the hell is it and for the love of God, will someone tell me why we are getting involved with it?”

  White’s face turned serious. “You’ve probably never heard of it because it has many names that have changed over the centuries. The reason you’re getting involved is because the Nazi hierarchy wants it and have made it a priority to get their hands on it, that’s why. The SOE has learned that a team is being assembled in Germany to track it down and you two gentlemen are going to find it before they do.”

  – END –