by John Day
Alan was more optimistic. “You may well be right about the size of the cave, Benny, although from the geology that I can see, there are massive sedimentary slabs that have split off from the mountainside and fallen flat.
“We are sitting on a slab right now. I think large boulders have fallen and later, another slab, like this one, tipped and settled on top of them. Over time, soil and rocks have covered it and filled in the sides.
“Only one cave is mentioned on the map and I believe this is it. The booby trap proves to me that there is something of value inside.”
The others murmured hopeful agreement with Alan’s theory.
Ellen added another thought. “Let’s assume the cave is massive and everything is in there. We are never going to cart it away on Lady Jane. We will need a ship to transport it. The only ship I know of is Celeste and there is no way I am sharing anything with that double-crossing crook, Charles Henshaw. I plan to have a talk with Walter about settling scores with him.
“Do you have any other cargo ships at your disposal, Benny?”
“As crooks go,” said Benny, “I thought the man was reliable, until he threw us overboard. Obviously, I was wrong.
“Finding someone we can trust will not be easy, but there is always someone we can use. Don’t worry, I can sort that out.”
“Our biggest problem will be carrying everything back to the beach,” Alan replied. “I suggest we take some valuables with us on the Lady Jane, to cover expenses, then get the ship’s crew to move the rest.”
“Sounds like a plan, Alan,” Ellen commented. Everyone agreed.
Meanwhile, Walter painstakingly checked for more traps as he removed stones from the entrance. He piled the rocks well away from the entrance, like a natural rockfall.
“Please excuse me everyone, I have to answer a call of nature. I’ll only be a minute.” Alan stood up, stretched, and headed into the jungle to pee...
***
As Alan zipped up, he heard whispering and stealthy movement, approaching through the jungle. Terrified, he hid in a small cleft in the rocks. He knew there was nothing he could do on his own if the natives proved hostile. Best he hung back to see what happened next.
It was nearly 15 minutes after the grenade explosion, when cannibals surrounded the plateau. They watched the four friends for a while, to check they were unarmed, then attacked.
One moment they were alone, the next, about 20 fierce natives rushed from the jungle and stood over them. The warriors screamed and yelled at the intruders, brandishing clubs and thrusting spears.
Sarah and Ellen threw up their arms to protect themselves and lay screaming in terror on the hard rock.
Benny rolled onto his side in the foetal position, his arms wrapped tightly around his head and lay there whimpering, his eyes closed. He pretended that what he couldn’t see wouldn’t hurt him.
After a brief and pointless struggle, the cannibals subdued Walter and dragged him away from the vines. They forced him to his knees to cower on the ground, with the others.
The leader of the tribe, Oona, was a tall, muscular man. He pushed through the ring of chanting cannibals.
The women would be unharmed, the chief of the village would take them for his pleasure. The two men however, would be on the menu tonight.
Speaking in German, Oona commanded his tribesmen, to force the four friends to stand and follow him back to the village.
Presumably, because the group spoke English, a language the native couldn’t understand, Oona never considered their prisoners might speak German. Alan, who lurked unseen in the bushes, was as surprised as his friends that the cannibals spoke German fluently, though it fitted with the CNN news report.
When everyone left the plateau, it took just over 10 minutes, at a fast trot, for the cannibals and their prisoners to reach the jungle village.
There was no fight left in Walter or the others, having been forced to jog through the jungle at the hottest part of the day. They all lay exhausted on the ground, guarded, and prodded by the cannibals who stood over them.
What was to be their fate?
***
Mendez and his armed men relentlessly smashed their way through the jungle. Conroy and his crew were driven by their fear of Mendez and their lust for gold. They all felt the energy sapping heat and humidity, but never complained.
They continued past the plateau and beyond, blindly following the trail of crushed vegetation. It took them right to the cannibals’ village, some three hours after the explosion.
Spying from the undergrowth, watching the fearsome natives with their prisoners in the village, Mendez laid out his next move. “Listen men. The only people who can show us where the German haul is are those four. There should be one more, but I haven’t seen him yet. Perhaps he was killed or is being held prisoner somewhere out of sight.
“If we are to stand any chance of getting our hands on the gold, we need to rescue those prisoners. Just remember, we are heavily armed and have the element of surprise in our favour. We just need to plan our attack carefully…”
The German.
Bruised and petrified, the four were dragged roughly from where they lay resting, over to the compound, outside the chief’s hut. They were forced to sit on the dark chocolate brown, dry earth, pressed hard by countless bare feet, over decades.
A frail old man walked majestically from a large hut to examine the captives. Although he had deep brown wrinkled skin, it was significantly lighter than many of the natives that crowded in on them.
The old man had style. The toga type garment appeared to be made from cotton, a material unlikely to be found here in the jungle. The coarsely woven fabric was perfectly clean and surprisingly white. Probably washed a lot and sun bleached to keep it that way. He wore no trinkets or other adornment. Less was more, apparently.
Upon seeing their chief, the raucous cannibals fell silent. The prisoners were dumfounded, the old leader was obviously not of the same race as the cannibals, his features were European.
It was hard to guess his age, probably in his 90s, Ellen thought. She was confident she could bend any man’s will to her own and didn’t see why this man would be any different, regardless of age.
Sarah was shaking with fear. She looked around to anticipate their fate, wishing she could just go home and put the horror behind her.
It suddenly occurred to her, there appeared to be two distinct races here. The black skinned people were most likely the pure-bred cannibals. The others were of mixed blood, the plentiful offspring of the chief, judging by their much lighter, brown skin.
The half breeds had a high social standing as well, by the look of their dyed fabric clothes and general appearance. The light skins were smooth and flawless, free from warty growths and the flattened noses of the pure cannibal race. Men were distinctively tall and handsome, while the women were slender and quite beautiful, generally with long brown hair and the cutest faces.
A reverent hush fell over the assembly. The chief addressed his people, in German. He explained the intruders were his prisoners, unarmed, and so were no threat to the village.
***
Now he turned his attention to the two men and women at his feet. Speaking slowly in German, hoping he could communicate, he asked them “Who are you and what do you want here?”
Sarah thought it best to respond in German and play the emotional card. She made it sound like she was about to have a nervous breakdown, so it was not hard act to portray.
Throw ourselves on his mercy, she thought. “Sir, my name is Sarah. We are an expedition, following up the news report of a German speaking native, from the interior. Villagers by the sea told us about a man called Oona who visited them, trading for fish.”
The tribe turned and looked at Oona in surprise, at the mention of his name.
“We are here to discover more about this village and how you came to speak German. Perhaps you can tell us about it.” Who could be cross about that, she thought?
&n
bsp; The chief reacted badly to her explanation, by the look on his face it was the worst news he could have heard.
He was livid and turned on his heel and stomped back into his hut. Seconds later, he stormed back out, swearing, and throwing his arms about like a man possessed. He just didn’t know what to do.
Eventually he calmed down and glowered at them. Sarah now wished she had kept her mouth shut, it seemed she had made the situation much worse.
After more thought, the chief barked an order to Oona and beckoned five of the muscular, light skin males, to bring the prisoners into his hut.
Whatever the old man had on his mind, he didn’t want the village to know about it, just yet. The four couldn’t help but wonder what they had walked into, more importantly, would they be walking out?
After a lot of pushing and shoving by the light-skins, the four friends were ordered to sit at the chief’s feet. This time they sat on clean woven mats made from thin saplings or vines.
The chief slumped back onto a rather lavish carved and polished, hardwood throne.
From the appearance of the single room, this was his official meeting room, he didn’t live in here. The beautifully carved hardwood objects and glazed pottery that decorated real furniture made the room look formal.
The prisoners sat looking up at the imperious man. He had composed himself now. Oona and the brown-skins stood behind the group to make certain there would be no trouble from them. They also intended to keep anyone else out of earshot.
The first question the chief pitched was a loaded one and the four knew it. “Are there any more of you?”
Ellen’s was the quickest mind to analyse the implications of their reply. If they mentioned Alan, the chief would hunt him down. Any slim possibility that he might rescue them, would be gone. However, if Alan showed up, the chief would know they had lied and whatever else they told him, would also be seen as a lie. The man would be rightly pissed off, and they would all be stuffed, possibly after gutting, with herbs and seasoning.
Taking a chance, Ellen spoke to the others in French. It was good odds the man didn’t know the language. “We had better say we are on our own. If Alan makes his play, we will be running for our lives anyway.” They nodded in agreement.
The chief soon caught on that they were getting their story straight and shouted “Answer me!”
Ellen apologised and said, humbly, “We are on our own.”
“What caused the explosion? You are all unarmed.”
“We stopped for a rest and there was an old German grenade amongst some small rocks. When it was disturbed, the clip flew off and Walter here threw it away in the jungle.” Ellen pointed to Walter as she spoke.
The chief eyed Walter carefully. He could tell the man was scared, but as tense as a snake about to strike, and ready to fight to the bitter end, if necessary.
Ellen went on to ask her own question. She had the knack of drawing information out of people. She smiled and spoke softly. “As Sarah explained,” Ellen turned to look briefly at the girl, to show who she meant. “We are just here to unravel an unimportant mystery. We don’t represent anyone, we are just here on holiday, diving and exploring the coast. The villagers by the sea told us of the man who visits them to trade for fish. They mentioned he spoke German, and he was involved in a dispute with them.”
The more common knowledge she could weave into the conversation, the greater chance of hiding lies, she thought.
“Perhaps you can tell us your side of the story?”
***
As chief, the old man had the pick of the women in his village. Judging by the number of light skinned offspring, he had picked the most beautiful and fathered many children. Ellen was the sort of beautiful woman that stirred his ancient loins. He planned to have her many times, after eating the men.
Confident they would never leave the village, and no one would come here looking for them, he welcomed the opportunity to talk, especially in his native tongue.
“My name is Klaus Schmitt, I was assistant engineer aboard U-159.
“In July 1943, my U-boat was attacked from the air. We managed to escape, even though the buoyancy system was badly damaged. So that we could make repairs, we limped to the nearest land, which was the village by the lagoon. Of course, the village didn’t exist then. We quickly started work on the hull, hoping we wouldn’t be seen by the enemy.
“Eight of us were sent out to look for fresh water and food.
“The men of this village found us and forced us back here. I had hoped to impress the natives and the chief with tricks, but one of his men held a grudge because I made him look stupid in front of the tribe, so I shot him.
The men with me started firing into the crowd that had gathered around us. I was the only survivor.
“I believed my captain would abandoned us, believing we were dead or hopelessly lost. He would have no choice but to complete the repairs and submerge as soon as he could.
“I decided my fate still lay with the chief. He was wounded in the shooting and I bandaged his arm. To his tribe, it looked like I had saved his life, though it was only a deep flesh wound. He was grateful, and just kept me locked up. I gradually gained their trust and proved useful to them, so eventually they let me roam free.
“As I said, I had been abandoned and there was no point in finding my way back to the beach, so I stayed with the tribe. The chief was later deposed by me and I took over.
“I have lived in fear that when Germany won the war, they would come looking for Grupenfurer Kaltman. We, the crew, believed he had stolen from Germany and was going to start a new life in South America.
“Other people have strayed into our part of the jungle and we have had the pleasure of eating them. We had to, to keep my existence a secret.”
Ellen was shocked, her charm hadn’t worked. “Oh! So, when will you let us return to our boat? We won’t mention our encounter with you, not to anyone.”
“No, I am certain of that. My life here will remain a secret, you will remain here as my, err, guests. I tend to disagree with people I eat!”
He and his minders laughed at his pun, not because they understood the concept, but they knew their place.
Stunned into silence, the four looked at each other in alarm. This was no time to start a disagreement or to start protesting.
The old chief used the lull in conversation to appraise Ellen and Sarah. They were so different, one dark haired and probably feisty, the other fair and submissive. He would have endless hours of pleasure from them and they would give him many beautiful children.
Benny disgusted him. The creature had no qualities worth digesting. The old people could eat him.
Looking now at Walter, Klaus thought the man had many admirable qualities. He seemed intelligent and was probably a fighter. His muscular physique was a quality his warriors would benefit from.
With a dismissive wave of his right hand, Klaus uttered a command to Oona. “Place the men in the stockade with the animals and arrange guards to prevent them escaping.
“Prepare for a feast tonight, we will eat them then.
“Bring in six of my wives to bath and prepare the two women for me. I will enjoy them at length after the feast. They will bear many fine children before they grow too old.”
***
Alan saw Walter and Benny being dragged out and thrown into the sturdy stockade. The closely spaced wooden stakes, driven into the ground, formed an enclosure as high as a tall man. The tops were fashioned into sharp spikes, to discourage dishonest villagers from climbing over and poaching animals.
Strong guards, armed with needle sharp spears and hardwood clubs stood at each corner so they could watch two adjacent sides. With this degree of overlap, there was no possibility of jumping any one of them, unseen.
Of greater concern was what was happening to the girls. He watched as Sarah and Ellen were dragged out by six women, kicking and screaming into the chief’s bath house for preparation.
Perhaps he a
nd the girls could overcome the women, but then the alarm would go out that they were escaping, leaving Walter and Benny to their fate.
Alan thought it best to wait, plan a diversion or hope something better might turn up to their advantage…
Escape.
Mendez and his crew watched from the cover of the jungle as Walter, Benny, Sarah, and Ellen were dragged out of the chief’s hut.
He briefly considered what to do about them. At least one of them had to remain alive so he could find out where the cargo was. That person had to be Benny. He was more asset than liability. The scheming Russian could speed up the conversion of artworks into cash as well, so that decision was easy.
Mendez and his men settled down, waiting for darkness to fall. Patiently, they watched the tribe prepare for the night’s feasting and entertainment.
At that moment, Alan was also trying to figure out how he could rescue his friends. Having already spotted Mendez and his men in hiding, he realised the problem had just got bigger. He was certain Mendez would attack the cannibals, and his friends might well be killed by the natives as a reprisal or be collateral damage.
As Mendez saw it, attacking the cannibals was the only way to grab Benny. If he left any of the warriors alive, they might attack him during removal of the treasure. There were few enough of his men already, to lose any more would just prolong transportation of the treasure to the Celeste, to an unacceptable level.
“Gabe, we are going to wipe out this ungodly bunch of heathens, and do ourselves, and the world a favour. At the same time, we must rescue Benny at all costs. The cannibals only have spears and darts, so with our firepower, we can shoot them down like dogs, while keeping out of their range.
“Tell the men. We will hit them from all sides at once. Allow 20 minutes to get into position and then we will strike.
“Synchronise watches.”
This was the sort of tactic the bully Gabe Conroy liked. Surprise, superior weapons and no mercy.
As the crew encircled the village, a hunting party were setting off to gather fruits and animals, to enhance the feast. Mendez saw this but was powerless to warn his men on the far sides of the village. He hoped they would take cover until the hunters had passed by.