It became quiet as we concentrated on our tasks. On the lowest ring I finally reached the last and the largest desk in the room. Surely the big cheese of this operation had sat here way back when. The tops of all the desks were clear of paperwork, but cluttered with doodads. The temptation to stuff my pockets was very strong. This last desk had a beautiful bronze medallion with a sculpted image of a shining sun. I picked it up.
This would look good back home on my desk, I thought.
It was then I noticed the thin block of polished marble the disk had been sitting on. I also noticed that the marble was free of dust. It was unlike the rest of the desk surface except for a square area a few inches away where the piece of marble had originally sat. It was safe to assume that Carl had picked up this block, then set it back only in a different spot. I picked it up and saw there were a few words engraved on its surface.
Ginah—Ezbet Dush—103.2
Duff—Sadd el-Aali—54.7
This was intriguing. I picked up the block and went to show it to M1.
As we were puzzling over my find we heard Alice's exited voice, “Yoo-hoo. Found something. Come on up and take a look.”
She met us at the entrance door. “Follow me,” she said, heading clockwise around the upper level. “Behind this door is living quarters with double bunks and the next is a good sized, very complete kitchen. There is even a lot of outdated canned food. This last door is the latrine and the toilets are working.”
We walked on past. Halfway around the room we came to a large circular door that looked like the entrance to a bank vault. It was complete with a double combination lock and a wheel that would have looked good on the bridge of a ship. The whole thing hid behind a large flag over the railing.
“Take a gander at this,” Alice said, pointing at a plaque welded to the center of the door. The plaque had an engraving we had seen before, two crosses with tilted arms.
“The Black Sun,” Jean said. “It keeps popping up and it's worrisome. I feel like we are walking around holding several bombs with lit fuses.”
“What does that say?” Alice asked Jean, while indicating some bold, red letters above the ship's wheel.
“It says, ‘Danger, Wear Protective Clothing,’” Jean replied.
M1, who was standing off to the right, said, “And here, behind these glass doors, are the protective suits. They look like a diver's rig.”
“I think that M2 can take a few pictures of this area, but that's it for this, whatever it is. There's too much we don't know.”
No one protested as we went back to our searches.
I went back down to the big table with M1. “This map is a mystery,” he said. “I'm sure there's valuable information here, but it's beyond me.”
I agreed. Although the map covered the world, the lines, notations and movable flags were much thicker in Germany and surrounding countries extending south to Egypt. There were some lines from Egypt to various places on the West Coast of Africa and on to places in South America, mainly Argentina. They only had obscure numbers associated with the colored flags. M2 had joined us with his camera and began taking shots from every angle. Hopefully our experts could figure out the meaning of this mass of information.
“Another thing,” M1 said. “Take a look at that big globe. There are no continents, just swirls and globs like molten metal or maybe cloud cover—strange.”
A series of bins under the big table contained rolled terrain maps that were identical sections of what I saw on the table. I pulled out three maps of Egypt to take with us when we left.
The search continued for about another thirty minutes, but we discovered nothing more of note. With our curiosity far, far, far from satisfied, we made ready to leave.
“Listen up,” M1 said to all of us. Our time is up for today. It's too risky to spend the night here, but we'll be back early tomorrow. I saw James looking longingly at a gold-colored coin on that desk over there. I think we all should have a souvenir from here, so, if you like, pick up something small and take it along.”
Before he had finished talking, I had danced over to the desk and secured my treasure. I went back to pick up the roll of maps and the hunk of stone and we all trooped out of the chamber. Jean was just ahead of me and I saw that the bunch of paper she had picked up earlier was missing from her back pocket. I inquired.
“Oh, that,” she said. “I read them and they were just propaganda. I did find a good use for them, however. There was no toilet paper in the latrine.”
As we pushed the outer iron door shut, the lights went out. We were quiet as we walked out to the main corridor. So much had happened that all of us felt somewhat overwhelmed.
“Time's getting tight,” M1 said, “but I sure would like to examine the next gallery. This is all just too good.”
“I'm with you,” Alice said. “Fritz won't budge until we return. Still, I don't want to worry him unnecessarily.”
At the next arch we just barged through the outer door and went directly to the first door on the right. We found the same general layout, but this place was dealing with electronics—the old vacuum tube electronics. Here, too, the plans had numbers instead of names and although the circuitry looked familiar I made no headway in discovering what they were designing.
We moved on to the fabricating shop. It was interesting, but still mysterious. The main feature, just inside the door was a large combination radio receiver and transmitter with multiple amplifiers. One big difference from familiar sets was the antenna, or at least what should have been an antenna. A short but thick, shielded wire stood upright about one foot above the set. At the very tip was what looked like a tiny flashlight bulb.
“My guess is that this is some sort of radio,” I said, on finishing my inspection. “I think it operates at a very high or low frequency, but the antenna has me stumped.”
M2 took a few more pictures and we went on our way.
“You know,” Alice said, as we walked out of Radio City, “as fascinating as these things are, I wish we could find one thing that we understand, like a self-propelled hair dryer. One could begin to feel dumb in this place if one did not have superior self-esteem like we all do.”
“That was so fast,” M1 said, “we'll look at just one more, then we really have to scoot. As it is we'll be back here tomorrow.”
At the next arch we opened the door and went on in without a word said. It was just too interesting.
I don't know how I can clearly explain the next stop. I'll just describe what I saw. The first room was set up like all the others, but all we could find were color charts and complex chemical illustrations that meant nothing to any of us. M2 took his pictures and we went to the fabricating room. It looked like a brewery with vats and pipes and tanks taking up every inch of available space.
“You had to be very thin to work in here,” Alice said.
Just inside the door was another table and on it sat a large, straight-sided glass beaker. It was about the size and shape of a round wastebasket and filled over halfway with a clear blue liquid. When I bumped the table, we could see it move like thin syrup. In the same beaker there was also some similar but yellow, liquid in the shape of a partially deflated ball. It was circular when viewed from the top, but an oval when viewed from the side. It only sank halfway into the blue liquid so it must have had a much lighter specific gravity. The scary thing was that there was an air gap of about a quarter-inch between the two liquids. For all practical purposes, the yellow ball of liquid floated in the air.
“What liquid is it that floats on air and does not evaporate in half a century?” Jean asked.
“Someone put a Nazi spell on it,” M2 said.
“It's Beelzebub,” Alice added, “Or is it bee-elgibub.”
“Close enough,” M1 said. “Let M2 take some pictures. That's all we can do here.”
“James,” M2 said, “jiggle the table again and I'll take a short video of the movement.”
“Jeez,” Alice said, “I need a dri
nk… No, two drinks.”
“No more stops,” M1 said. “Let's hustle.”
And hustle we did although we did peek in the remaining arches. We had had enough of the dark for one day.
As we were passing the last side chamber, M1 made a snap decision to take a quick look. We found loot, lots of loot. The first side door opened to a room empty of furniture, but full of crated paintings. We made a rough estimate of at least a thousand items. Crates and boxes filled the other rooms on the right. The big room at the end held a forest of statuary. It looked as though they had begun the crating process just before they had to evacuate. The last two rooms on the left were empty of everything except some scraps of lumber. They did have time to take some of it when they left.
“I'll bet we walked right past the gold and jewelry rooms, M2 observed. “Oh, for one more hour down here.”
“I'll second that,” I said.
“Hup, two, three, four,” M1 said, “get your asses out the door.”
As we passed the lead engine, I had an idea. “Hold on a second.”
I climbed the iron ladder to the cab and stepped onto the iron floor plates that rang hollow as I walked over them. I saw what I was looking for in a rack on the side of the cab. When I descended, I displayed the large oilcan that I suspected was still there.
For the hinges up top,” I said. “This way we can make a silent exit in case there's anyone nearby.”
“Good thinking,” M1 said, as he picked up the glow tube.
One final equipment check to be sure we had left nothing behind, then we trooped down the tunnel toward the steps to the chimney.
At the top of the steps, one large iron post held the hinges for both doors and I gave them a good soaking as well as the inner mechanism of the fake brick. We eased the inner door open with nary a squeak, then I gave the outer door handle bearing a good drink and the Mole People were ready to leave. Gently and soundlessly we opened the outer door and took a look around to make sure we were alone. Once outside, M2 closed the inner door and tapped a wedge of stone into the rubble next to the brick that served as a handle. This was to prevent it from turning should a passing hiker give it a try.
“I think we're okay,” M1 closed the iron door and erased the Kilroy cartoon with a flat piece of rock.
CHAPTER 17
I flattened and folded my roll of maps and wedged them into my tool kit. Fritz was on our side, but why should I even pique his curiosity? The sun was low in the sky as we returned to find him busy with a portable grill. He had seen us coming and there were a dozen links of fat sausage sizzling and dripping on the charcoal—sending fragrant odors to our nostrils. The smells made our stomachs rumble. Fritz uncapped bottles of Original Ritterguts Gose, then began loading paper plates with sauerkraut. The sausages landed in oversized buns and we devoted the next half-hour to our stomachs and some job-related conversation that I instigated. Fritz, although by nature a friendly person, knew that this was business and kept out of earshot when not bringing us more food.
“I've been thinking about something,” I said, before plugging my mouth with a wad of sauerkraut, “and I'd like to solicit the opinion of anyone who would care to comment.” Everyone nodded. “We've seen some amazing stuff today. A lot of it, I think, is beyond what we have been looking for and some of it probably very dangerous. Of course, it's lucky that the good guys will get it, but there's a problem in that sometimes even the good guys mishandle things. The wrong people can take what we've discovered and turn the find into tragedy. Frankly, there is no government that deserves our total trust. In fact, other than the director, there is no individual outside our group that I wouldn't worry about.
“As I see it, we have two choices. First, when we finish here, we turn in our findings and let our superiors take it from here to Area 51 or whatever. Second, assuming we find what Carl discovered, we go on to Egypt and say nothing about what we found. The danger there is that eventually someone else may find it and his or her motives or loyalties may not mesh with ours. I see many conflicts.”
It was a minute or two before anyone spoke because there was a lot of chewing and swallowing going on. I'm sure that M1 or M2 could speak to the problem, but they deferred to Alice with just a look in her direction.
“Everything you said is true and real and possible,” she said. “You got your morals, your duty, your obligations, your conscience and the like. In the end, all I can say is, when you can, stand up and do what you know to be right. That's within reason of course. I compromise my principles regularly when I know it's for a worthwhile result.” I could just visualize the original James Cagney standing there, patting her on her back. “I've yet to lie to you James, but it's bound to happen eventually. Just so you know.”
As Alice was finishing her little response, Jean leaned over and wiped a spot of brown mustard off my chin. For a moment I wished she hadn't. I wondered why I had that reaction.
After our picnic dinner, we tossed our stuff into the van, climbed aboard and headed back to the airport. Our chauffeur, like a good mercenary, asked no questions, knowing he had made a good day's pay while loafing in the countryside. As we left, we saw an abandoned glider in a roadside pasture. Fritz told us that pilots frequently ran out of air and had to land in places like this.
After making arrangements for our taxi early the next day, we shouldered our burdens and walked into the hangar. Our thoughts were of a hot shower and a cold drink, but that was not to be.
Just inside the door I heard Alice exclaim under her breath, “SHIT! This is all we need.”
As he was the only one in sight, the object of her disgust had to be the large man walking toward us. He was much heavier than the two young businessmen who had waddled away from the Silver Diner on that rainy night when this all began. Definitely a bit older, stil,l he did sport a suit and tie. The new guy did not look angry, only imperious and aloof. We were silent as we approached to talking distance where Alice attempted an introduction.
“I don't believe you've met Jean and James Cag...” she began, before he waved her off and pointed to our jet.
“Not here,” he said. “On the plane.”
With that, he turned and trundled toward our aircraft with all of us silently in tow. Surely, this had to be one of the two ‘bastards’ Alice had mentioned earlier. Inside I saw he had prearranged the seats so that we all had to face him for our pow wow.
“Sit,” he said, while pointing at the seats. “I know who everyone is.” He sat down. “What I don't know is why the hell you've been out of touch and out of town? Your success has gone to your head. I'm shutting down your little independent operation right now.”
I was right. This was indeed one of the Bastards, with a capital B. She remained silent, as did M1 and M2. I could almost feel their radar, but their faces were lacking any emotion.
“Mr. Cagney,” he said, turning to me, “I want a report from you right now on your activities today. Leave nothing out.”
I made my decision. I also decided not to ask him who the hell he was. “We left here this morning shortly after our plane arrived. We went to the area where the old map had indicated a branch rail line or siding. We walked the entire area, but found no trace of the rails or the old bed, if ever it was there. We searched the entire surrounding landscape all day and the only result was sore feet. We have made arrangements with our driver to return to the area tomorrow to continue the search.”
“That's it?” he said.
“That's it, Mr…” I replied.
He ignored my unspoken request for his name and dismissed me out of hand.
Screw you, too, I thought.
“Dance,” he said, addressing Alice by her last name, “you and your wonder workers have had a run of good luck. You've had a free hand up until now, but it ends today. I brought a new team with me and they will take over as of now. You and your crew are to return to Washington today and file a complete report with my superior.”
Without another word, he le
ft his seat and walked to the door.
As soon as he disappeared, a flying Alice plastered me back in my seat. I knew it was a good thing when she began kissing my face several times.
“Sorry, Jean,” she said, “but I get dibbs on James, my hero.”
“I got your dibbs right here,” Jean said, while reaching in her tool kit to extract the souvenir she had claimed from the war room. It was a black and silver letter opener or dagger with a swastika inlay on the handle.
“Hey, delinquents,” Harry sang out, “it's a good thing I hit the sack as soon as we arrived. Arrange your seats and buckle up. We'll be on our way in ten minutes. Do you have all of your gear?”
Twenty minutes later we were up to altitude and on our way home. M2 displayed and distributed a share of the souvenir he had claimed. It was a bottle of very old schnapps, which only added to our celebratory mood.
“You all know,” Alice said, “that we need to have a planning session shortly, but for a little while let us relax and enjoy this delightful beverage, courtesy of Uncle Adolf. By the way, Jean and James, the name of the big doofus is Morgan Bruno. Do your best to avoid him.”
“Does he operate independently? Jean asked. “Can't the director call him off?”
Alice gave her a palms-up shrug. “Only the director knows and I don't ask.”
After a while, I pulled the old maps and the polished stone from my tool kit. I spread the map on the floor and used the stone as a paperweight. I began by following the path of the Nile because most of the named towns were near its banks. It wasn't long before I spotted the name Ginah, one of the names on the stone. I borrowed a felt tip marker from Jean and circled the name. I enlisted her in the search and between the two of us we found all four names in less than two minutes.
Jean went back to her schnapps and I sat there staring at the map, then looking at the stone. I visualized a line going from Ginah to Ezbet Dush, then one going from Idfu to Sadd el-Aali. I had two lines, separated by perhaps two hundred and fifty miles of nothing. I tried visualized lines from Ginah to Sadd el-Aali, then from Ezbet Dush to Idfu. That made no sense; besides, there were the numbers.
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