Discovery

by Maurice Barkley

  Jean snorted. “If ever I wanted to cuss like a trouper, now was the time.”

  “Now, now Amisi,” Aunt Bee said soothingly, “I'll fix everything on your next visit.”

  “Amisi?” Jean said, “That's an Egyptian name. It means flower.”

  “That's right, dear. It's who you are until further notice.”

  “I like it,” Jean said. “What did you name my boyfriend in the next chair.”

  “We call him Biti, which means king of the north.”

  Jean groaned. “You know not what you do.”

  “We were going to name him Chigaru, but Biti is easier to pronounce.”

  “But Chigaru is appropriate,” Jean said. “Highly appropriate.”

  “Okay,” I said, “I give up. What does it mean?”

  “Chigaru means hound,” Jean said.

  I sang my retort. “I ain't nuthin’ but a Chigaru dog.”

  I discovered that replacing a one-syllable word with a three-syllable word does not work well, but you can't expect every joke to be a gem.

  Jean sighed. “At times I regret my little attempts at humor. From now on it's Biti all day long.”

  “Keep it up you two,” Gerry said. “It distracts you from the appalling things we are doing.”

  The appalling things took almost two more hours, but at last the damage was done. Once again the mirror was forbidden, but I could see Jean and she could see me.

  “Oh, James,” she cried, “you look horrid. I know this is temporary and it may be small of me, but no hugs until this is over and you get put back together.”

  “Listen, my dear,” I said, with a wide grin I knew would reveal my blackened teeth, “once you get to a mirror, you will see that my only urge is to retreat.”

  “That bad, huh?” she said.

  “Worse.”

  “In the next room you get the clothing and equipment you'll wear on the ground,” M2 said. “When you are properly outfitted, your transformation will be complete.”

  The outfitting room was busy. Jean and I just stood still while the staff draped us with desert garb. Mine came with a pillbox hat. I also was given a disreputable crutch that doubled as a bang stick. I sported a cartridge belt with a knife, a canteen, a pouch full of tea, another with tobacco and a twine belt that doubled as a garrote. They let me keep my Ralex watch.

  Ken got busy strapping the derringer and its holster to my right leg. Over the pistol, he taped a bandage that looked blood soaked. “The fabric has a pouch impregnated with anti-flea stuff. You should be able to leave it on for several days.”

  “Neat,” I said.

  See those loops on your sandals? Pull either one really hard and you along with anyone within ten feet of you will be mincemeat.”

  “That's it for here,” M2 said. “We have a meeting with Alice and M1.”

  CHAPTER 20

  When we entered Alice's domain, she and M1, busy examining maps on a small card table, paused to greet the new arrivals. Except for the card table the room had changed not at all. The seismograph still sat where it was when I first saw it. I had told Jean the story and she passed close for a look. Alice looked carefully at both of us, then nodded her approval. “Just what I asked for,” she said. “I want you three to see these satellite photos.”

  M1 made room for us and she proceeded to tell us what we were seeing. “Right here is where the two lines cross. It's just west of the Valley of the Kings. You might call it the middle of the back of beyond. You got your sand and you got your rocks, that's about it. All you can see are some tire tracks wandering around. The area is pretty rugged. There are a few gullies, some of them quite large and deep. We think this was a riverbed a million or two years ago. About half a mile over here and scattered around you can see the tops of tents, but that's all. Turn right for another half mile and you can see the ruins of a small town. It does have a small population. We think maybe it's a way station for caravans or maybe smugglers. With luck we can avoid the place. Since the heaviest population is to the north, we'll come in from the south. If we're ahead of Carl, we'll dig in and wait. For an area that's mostly desolate, it has a surprising population. One wonders what people do to survive there.”

  Alice stood straight to unkink her back and asked us if we wanted some drinks or some lunch. We all raised our hands for coffee. As she was pouring, she asked M1 to talk to us about the logistics.

  “We will be carrying no identification,” he said. “Fortunately, we have certain friends in Egypt, the same as we have in Germany and the Canal Zone. This person has friends in government high and low and has cleared a path to our destination and back out. What happens when we get there is totally on us. You've noticed that I didn't say him or her. This individual is too valuable to identify in any way.

  “You both have your peashooters. The rest of us will have serious firepower, heavy-duty stuff. We will also have long distance radios in case we need to call for help. I'd like to think there will be Special Forces lurking in the area as back up, but I just don't know. Our supplies are what we can carry. That's it.”

  “Okay,” Alice said, “let us get going.”

  “Do Amisi and I need any fake identification papers?” I asked.

  “No,” she replied, “You two are just poor desert dwellers. Few if any of them have papers.”

  “Any word from our computer geek, Wesley?” Jean asked.

  “No,” Alice said, “and the poor kid's having fits. I had to order him to take a nap.”

  “How about Carl's sister in Germany?”

  “Still looking. The longer it takes to find her, the stranger it gets.”

  Alice looked at each of us in turn then clapped her hands together. “Saddle up, kids. It's showtime. I know it's corny, but I love saying it.”

  Jean and I sat side by side in the back of the van as it pulled away from headquarters. It cast a long shadow in the last rays of the setting sun.

  There we were, sitting quietly, contemplating the launch of another great adventure. She had to have read my mind and saw that I was thinking of how I had brought her to a dangerous place.

  She turned to look at me. “James, let this be the last time we speak of this. If the very worst should happen, let there be no regrets, none.”

  We rode on in silence. I didn't answer. I needed time to think.

  CHAPTER 21

  When we entered the tiny office at Bill's Garage, Harry was there to greet us. When he saw Amisi and me, he opened his mouth as if to say something, but apparently couldn't think of anything. He closed his mouth and blew out, causing his cheeks to bulge like a chipmunk's.

  Amisi looked at me. “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse,” was again my reply.

  “Relax, folks,” Harry said, as he opened the door to the hangar. “When the going gets tough, the tough get Harry.”

  That must have been his favorite joke because he laughed louder and longer than the rest of us. I hadn't noticed from the office, but once we cleared the door it surprised me to see the big, four-engine transport sitting first in line.

  “How come such a big aircraft for our small group?” I asked.

  “Shut up, Biti,” It was Alice. “Need to know, need to know, need to know.”

  Harry informed me that the plane was a C-130 Hercules and indicated a set of steps that led to a door under the cockpit.

  “Welcome aboard, folks. Luxury seats straight ahead. The back of the plane behind that canvas curtain is off limits.”

  I glanced at Alice and she just glared back. I took the not-so-subtle hint and kept quiet.

  “You have bench seats and a porta potty of sorts right here. Coffee and food will descend from above on a regular schedule. If you get claustrophobic in here, you may come up and look out of a window. There won't be all that much to see and no, none of you can take the controls. Buckle in, we take off in ten minutes.”

  Harry climbed up and disappeared through a hole in what must have been the floor of the cockpit while we ch
ose our seats and secured our belts. I felt some mild jolts and the plane began to roll. The little tow machine was on the job again. We all soon discovered that the C-130 had no soundproofing, at least not where we were. Harry left us funny looking helmets with big earmuffs. I tested them and they worked well, but I took them off because I wanted to experience the takeoff thunder. When he opened the throttles it was overwhelming. The noise level remained too loud for any conversation until we reached cruising altitude. Then it was time for some shuteye.

  I woke up with nothing to do, so I tried for a daydream. The difficulty was that current events were much more interesting than any artificial thoughts. I finally decided to review our time inside the Harz Mountain.

  I started my review from the moment we entered the tunnel and went over everything I did, heard or saw. Eventually, I came to the part where we made our final check of the train before we returned to the surface. I visualized my climb to the cab and recalled something I had seen painted on its side. As well as the ever-present eagle, I had seen the word Brandenburg. This triggered another memory from my extensive reading about the war. I reviewed the count of the number of units that made up the train (there were seventeen) and realized that I had another gem of information to pass along.

  So, old Biti leaned over to Alice and cupped my hand around her ear. “To pass the time, I contemplated our visit to the Hollow Mountain and I realized the train there is very special. I remembered seeing the name Brandenburg as I climbed into the cab. That and the fact that the train consists of seventeen units and the anti-aircraft guns make me sure that we were looking at the Führersonderzug Brandenburg, the Führer's special train. The Wehrmacht said they destroyed it in 1945, but I think they lied.”

  Alice grabbed both of my ears and looked intently at my face. “Sorry. You are too ugly to kiss.”

  She let go of my ears, stood up and clambered through the hole in our ceiling. In deference to Jean, I resisted the temptation to look up at her vanishing butt, however, M1 and M2 failed to match my restraint. I glanced at Jean and saw her looking at me wide eyed. She threw out her arms and mouthed a big, “WHAT?”

  I motioned to the boys to join us and repeated the story I had told Alice. We all agreed that one way or another, we had to pay a second visit to the Harz Mountains.

  CHAPTER 22

  Harry landed the big plane in a desert. My guess was Libya, but I didn't ask. We learned that our cargo was a small plane disguised as a barely airworthy wreck, but it proved to be a very good and fast aircraft. The flight lasted almost two nerve-racking hours as our pilot practiced his crop dusting skills. At the end, Harry did his little dance at the controls and the fat tires kissed the sandy bottom of a shallow depression where we rolled safely to a stop.

  We were in Egypt. It was early afternoon.

  After exiting the aircraft, I watched as Harry turned it into a wreck. When he finished, both wings looked broken. Meanwhile M1 and M2 consulted a map and their GPS locators. Once they knew the readings were accurate, M1 gathered us for a pre-departure meeting.

  “We're about a mile and a half from X marks the spot. We'll head straight in for one mile where we should meet another of our friends. He's a tribal leader and that will make our job a lot easier once he joins us.

  “Biti, you and Amisi will walk together directly north. I'll correct you if you wander. The rest of us not in costume will shadow you, staying low and out of sight. I hope we don't run into any natives, but if we do, don't try to hide. Amisi can try to convince them that you're traveling to the ruined village to the north to join your family. If anyone gets rough, we'll move in and adjust their attitude. As far as we know, the village has no name. I know these instructions are mighty thin, but we've worked wonders on less.”

  I had been concentrating on listening to M1 and when he finished, I looked to wave a jaunty farewell to the others, but they vanished except for Harry. He was busy scanning the horizon with binoculars. These guys knew how to move fast and take advantage of every dip in the terrain.

  “Say, Harry. Are you joining our…” I began to inquire.

  He put a finger to his lips. “Harry is not here. It's the heat playing tricks and your wild imagination.”

  “Okay, get going you two,” M1 said through our ear buds. “Today's password is ‘New York’. Countersign is ‘Dodgers’.”

  We walked toward the distant horizon like a couple out for an afternoon stroll. It was so pleasant that I made the mistake of paying more attention to Amisi than my surroundings. The first I knew that anything was amiss was when my companion put her hand to her mouth and talked to me by hearing aid.

  “Biti, there's a vehicle parked on the track up ahead. They've seen us so just keep walking. If you see me doing a lot of cringing in front of them, it will be so I can talk to you in your ear. Remember, if anyone says anything to you, point to your hearing aid then point north. I'll do the rest.”

  There were four very hard-looking men sitting in and around the battered Toyota pickup truck. A fifth was busy working on the engine and that explained why they stopped in the middle of nowhere. Their guns were many and very visible, but I sensed no tension, though they looked our way with casual interest. When we were almost abreast of the vehicle, one of the men eased himself out of his seat and stepped forward to block our path. His arrogance was such that it made me have a Walter Mitty moment where I saw myself raising my crutch and giving Mister Macho Man a poke in the gut.

  He looked at both of us, but his attention was drawn to the beautiful eyes of Amisi. She cringed a bit, but then stood still as he lifted her veil to see the rest of her face. He took one look and dropped the cloth with a sneer and a few words that luckily I could not understand. His pals in the pickup laughed and said more that I was unable to interpret.

  When he turned his attention to me, Amisi stepped back a bit and squatted with one hand up to her mouth. My new friend went through the stuff on my cartridge belt, then gave me a quick once over. When he got to my wristwatch, he took a close look then turned to the others and said several words. The only one I understood was Ralex. They all had a hearty laugh, which put them in a good mood. More words came out of his mouth as he looked directly at me. I heard Amisi's voice in my earpiece telling me to point to my ear and then to the north. I took her advice. Macho Man lost interest and retired to his vehicle while Amisi and I continued our hike.

  “Aunt Bee did a good job on us,” she said, after a few quiet minutes.

  “Thank Allah for that,” I replied fervently.

  “I think,” she said, “your timepiece deserves no more ridicule. That little piece of jewelry just helped save our collective butts.”

  I heard Alice's voice in my earpiece, “I second that.”

  “Where are you guys anyway?” I said, to the horizon. “I haven't seen hide nor hair of you since we parted.”

  “Well duhhhh!” It was Alice again. “That's the idea. If you can't see us, hopefully no one else can either. I also have a Klingon Cloaking Device.”

  There I was in the middle of a desert with two superb women. I was one lucky hombre.

  “Why don't you just keep talking to Amisi?” Alice said. “It's very entertaining. Incidentally, those guys in the pickup got it running and drove off to the west which is very good.”

  We walked on for a time in silence. Now that she asked me to talk, I couldn't think of anything to say and I'm sure Jean had the same difficulty.

  My thoughts drifted back into the recent past and a question came to mind. “Dirty Rat calling Stinky,” I said to my hearing aid. “Over.”

  “This is Stinky,” came the reply. “This had better be good. Over.”

  “This is Dirty Rat. Why aren't we using these names? Over.”

  “This is Stinky. Why? Who knows us here? Over.”

  “This is Dirty Rat. Okay, but I hope we get to use them at least once. Over.”

  “You just did. Stinky, out.”

  “My Dear,” Amisi said, “you can b
e a real pill at times.”

  “Hard to swallow?” I asked.

  “Especially in the desert,” she replied.

  “It's my dry humor, isn't it?”

  “Aaaargh.” she either replied or choked on some dust.

  We kept entertaining the troops like that for a while until heat and thirst diminished our enthusiasm.

  M1's voice, calling a halt to our march, should have been a welcome sound, but it was an urgent order. “Amisi and Biti, run fast to your right and lay down in that depression.”

  Ours was not to reason why, ours was but to scoot. As soon as we were flat on the ground, M1 said, “Turn your heads to the west. Watch, but don't move. Company is coming.”

  As I lay there with one cheek pressed to mother earth, I became aware of two things. You can hear running feet by pressing your ear to the ground and the sand retains the smell of urine even after it has dried in the sun. We were lying in someone's latrine. The pounding became louder and moments later, I saw several heads bobbing on our shortened horizon. Soon, a good dozen desert dwellers with guns, their clothing flapping behind, ran very close and on past where Amisi and I were prone and still. They should have seen us, but I guess they were busy. I just hoped they were not responding to a report of a small plane landing nearby. To my mind, one does not run in the desert in daylight unless one has urgent business. Anyway, they all passed us without a glance and were soon out of sight. Amisi and I kept on breathing the urine flavored air until M1 gave us the all clear.

  I commented to all that the middle of the back of beyond had a lot of activity.

  “Something's going on,” M1 said. “We have the pickup heading west and these guys running east. We'll keep on north. Ground zero should be less than half a mile from here. I just received word that the satellites haven't spotted anything new. It's up to us. Get going, but keep a sharp watch. We should meet our friend right around here.”

  Our light banter stopped as we walked on. At that moment, we were two tired and thirsty wanderers, alone in this vast emptiness. I knew our friends and protectors were nearby, but they were invisible. Our desert friend did not materialize and that added to our angst.