Discovery

by Maurice Barkley

  We ate our way through the next half-hour. There was very little talking. Coffee in hand, we settled back for a report from Alice.

  “I talked to the director. He sends his regards and his admiration and all that. The first thing he told me is that he has a name for our little group.”

  A jolt went through all of us other than Carl when we saw that Alice was actually blushing. I didn't know she had a shy bone in her body. This must be really something so we all leaned toward her breathlessly.

  She laughed nervously. “It's silly, but he named us, ‘The Dance Band’.”

  It took a count of three for it to sink in then we burst into applause and cheering, which caused her blush to deepen another two shades. Tears welled up in her eyes and she had to turn away to recover. M2 suggested that we have Dance Band shoulder patches for our field uniforms. M1 seconded the wish and we approved it unanimously.

  “Back to business people,” she said, while blowing her nose and wiping her cheeks. “The problem we face when we get to Leipzig/Halle is Morgan Bruno. The director is content to have him waste as much time as possible in Germany. He is confident we can get in, get Anna and get out without a trace. He marveled that we were in and out of Egypt in less than a day. Biti, you had a concern that our expectations of you might exceed your abilities. I now know how you feel.” I flashed her a gap-toothed grin and she threw her empty coffee cup at me. “Anyway, we have a rather loose strategy.” Reaching in one of her bags, she drew out two walkie-talkie sized radios and handed one to Amisi. “To keep us posted,” she said. “Carl, you will go with M2, Amisi and Biti to rescue your sister. Just do as they say and everything will be fine.” Carl said nothing, but nodded his assent. “Fritz will be waiting as usual. I think that covers it. Now we'll all get some shuteye.

  As she was moving her things around, her shuffling had exposed one of the cracker tins we had found on top of the sarcophagus. I saw Carl looking at it with a great deal of curiosity. I nudged M1 with my extended foot and when he looked up, I turned my eyes in Carl's direction. He looked and saw what I saw, then reached over to tap Carl on his knee.

  “Carl,” he said, “I see that you are curious about our cracker tin. Do you know what it is?”

  “No. It's old and it's German and I'm only curious if you wish.”

  “Any idea about what it might contain?”

  “No, should I?”

  M1 looked at Carl while biting his lower lip. He made his decision. “We have two of them and they both contain nothing, but black ashes.”

  Carl's eyes bugged out and he looked like he was choking on something. It took him some little time to calm down. When he did, he just sat looking at the tin. The rest of us just sat looking at Carl.

  After a short time, M1 spoke again. “Care to share with us, Carl?”

  It was interesting to watch Carl's face as he gave it some thought. The guy was an open book and we read his thoughts as though he were speaking. He knew he might have some important information for us, but he was also considering the fact that it might be a bargaining chip. As much as Carl loved his sister, he had, on this day, watched a lifetime of searching wash away. He also reasoned that the GPR unit represented a barrel full of woe. Perhaps he could make some sort of deal that would mitigate some of the damage. He shifted in his seat and we saw his face change. He had decided.

  “I had thought to make a deal for myself, but instead I will make a deal for my sister. Once rescued, she must be free to go. You must not charge or reprimand her in any way. If you agree to that, I will tell you what you have and will accept full responsibility for all of my past actions.”

  Alice, M1 and M2 looked back and forth at each other doing the FBI mutual mind reading thing.

  “Agreed,” M1 said. “Do you need it in writing?”

  “No,” Carl said, “your word is sufficient. There shouldn't be a written record regarding Anna.”

  After a short, silent pause, M1 asked, “All right, what's in the cans?”

  “Oh, no,” Carl replied, instantly. “The second my sister is in my arms, I will tell you the names of the two people whose ashes reside in those containers.”

  “Fair enough,” M1 said. “Can you tell us how you came to know this information?”

  “I guess so,” Carl replied. “I found a diary in a map room in the Hollow Mountain. It contains a fragmented record of the entire operation. Most of the pages were ripped out.”

  “Where is it now?” M1 asked.

  “Still there in a hidden drawer where I found it,” Carl said. “You may have it when I have Anna. I realize that I know far too much to walk away, but Anna knows very little and she's no threat to you. My biggest regret was to partner with Roy Kilbourne, but he provided maps, paperwork for the GPR purchase and other vital information.”

  “Why did you visit Gunter Weis on your last trip through Colón?”

  “But we didn't,” Carl said. “We waited two days for our ship and then we left. There was no reason to see him.”

  “Did Roy stay with you the whole time?”

  “Well, no,” Carl said, “he wandered about some during the daylight hours, but he said nothing about Gunter.”

  M1 chose not to enlighten him about the death of Sergeant Weis.

  At this point, Alice joined the conversation. “Who do you think should have the secrets of the Hollow Mountain, Carl?”

  He thought for a moment. “There is much there, perhaps too much based on what I have seen, but I was born American and my choice is to bring everything to our country or blow it up.”

  “Again, there are no promises,” Alice said, “but would you consider working with us?”

  Carl looked at her wide-eyed then a big smile lit up his face. “I am among friends,” he said.

  M1 leaned forward. “Carl, I'm curious about something. How did you get the GPR crate into your van? It was very heavy.”

  At first, one side of Carl's mouth stretched out to make a half-smile and his eyes had a faraway look. “A friend helped me,” he said. We all remained silent. After a few moments, he shrugged off his backpack and opened the flap. “This was to be my main bargaining chip.” He reached in and drew out a familiar object. “It's called a lifter.”

  “We call ours a bar of soap,” M1 said, to a very startled Carl.

  M1 then told him of how we found ours and also the sad fate of the sergeant.

  Carl looked down at the object in his hand. “I have no need for this. It’s yours now.” He handed it to M1.

  “Thanks, Carl,” he said. “I’ll ask the director if the Dance Band can keep this one. It could be very handy. How did you figure out the controls?”

  “Just by testing,” Carl said. “Each dot doubles the lift. I used eighty pound cement sacks. When I lifted over a thousand pounds I stopped and I was just over half way around the dial.”

  Just then, Harry clambered down from above to announce that we were on the slow boat to Germany so as not to arrive before dawn. “Biti,” he said, “remember back in the desert, when you were about to ask me if I were joining your trek?”

  “I remember,” I said. “I also remember that you said that you weren't really there and it was my wild imagination.”

  “Good man,” he said. “Well it's about to happen again. I'm not here nor is this bottle containing a nightcap for us all. You're having a hallucination. Take one of these cups and enjoy the fantasy.”

  “Harry,” Alice called, “come sit on my grenades and bring your fairy water.”

  Harry obediently complied and soon we all, including Carl, were raising our cups to ourselves. It was a delightful moment. After that, sleep came easily and soundly until the jolt of landing woke me from my slumbers.

  CHAPTER 26

  Working to the plan, we hopped off the plane as it was rolling to a stop. We were close to the left wall of the hangar. There were no obstructions so we ambled along on the outside and walked straight to the red sedan that was waiting there. Fritz looked hard at Ami
si and me, dressed in gray Air Force work coveralls. Like a good trooper, he said nothing and drove away in the early morning sunlight, following the same route we had taken before. We kept the windows open to lessen our BO.

  To avoid any possible contact with Bruno and company, Fritz detoured the last few miles. He took a different road that got us to within two miles of the factory ruin. It was a level walk along the side of the hill. Approaching the rear of the factory, we saw not a single person, even the gliders were absent.

  Carl was a jittery wreck as M2 knocked the wedge from the brick and opened the door. I had hoped to see a hysterical Anna, but we saw and heard nothing. Inside, I noticed some bloodstains on the metal bars, but none on the floor. She had tried to claw her way out, but it didn't look like she had hurt herself too badly.

  We ran down the stairs and up the entrance tunnel as fast as we could and stopped to listen as we came to the engines. We all called out for her, but it remained dark and quiet.

  M2 started forward at a dogtrot. “Let's go.”

  As we came to one of the middle cars, I noticed a gleam of light barely illuminating one of the center windows. I stopped and put out my hand.

  “Anna!” Carl screamed in desperation.

  There was no response as we ran to the end and climbed the steps. The doors were open and we kept going, but pulled up short when we saw Anna slumped in an elegant chair next to a table that hosted a guttering candle, bottles and some glassware.

  “Oh, God,” Carl sobbed, as we crowded around her, expecting the worst.

  The lady was dead all right, dead drunk and reeking of schnapps. Carl slapped her face.

  “Anna, Anna,” he shouted, “wake up for God's sake.”

  She groaned and opened her eyes, which first held the vacant look of the sleeper. Seconds later, she focused and saw her brother there.

  “Carl,” she cried, “I thought you… I didn't know. I was afraid.”

  He embraced her while she shook with sobs. I picked up one of the glasses and poured a dollop of schnapps and offered it to Amisi. She took a sip, handed the glass to M2, who took another sip and passed it on to me. It was empty when I set it down.

  “Do you realize,” I said, “that we just had a drink in the Führerwagen, Hitler's personal car?”

  Amisi looked at me and smiled. “Good thing she had the schnapps for a sedative.”

  M2 grinned. “Good thing we didn’t clean out the liquor cabinet.”

  “I'd like to go get that diary,” I said, “but it would take maybe two hours to get there and open the doors and all that. We'll let the next shift go get it.”

  The sobbing had stopped so I tapped Carl on his shoulder. “What say we get her out of here?”

  Carl nodded and we both helped Anna to stand. She was a bit wobbly and still drunk, but she was aware and ready to go. At the steps, we hung her over Carl's back and steadied him as he struggled down. Luckily, she was able to walk on her own with Carl on one side and me on the other. It got so funny going up the steps to the ruin that we all collapsed in laughter and had to sit for a while. Anna was sobering up and it was there that Carl introduced us. We exchanged a few awkward pleasantries, then as we were helping her to stand, she flung her arms around me and started to cry again. I looked at Amisi, but all I saw was her grin. All I felt was M2’s thumb in my ribs.

  After replacing the wedge, M2 carefully closed the outer door and we retraced our steps back to the waiting Fritz without incident. Once again he looked, without emotion, at our suddenly expanded party, but said nothing as we loaded into the auto. Wisely, I put Amisi in the back seat with Anna and Carl. M2 and I sat in front. Fritz, who had seen Anna's bruised and bloody hands, passed back a first aid kit. He made no comment about the strong smell of schnapps. I took the radio from Amisi, gave Alice a ring and told her all was well. She told me they had not seen Bruno and were ready to leave as soon as we arrived.

  A short time later the red sedan pulled to a stop in the same spot in front of the hanger. We unloaded, shook hands with Fritz who drove off leaving the windows down. I had confidence in that man.

  As we turned to walk back along the side of the hanger, whom should we see waddling directly toward us like an animated water balloon but the Bastard, Bruno.

  M2 squatted down to fuss with his boot laces, thus hiding his face.

  “Let me!” I hissed to Amisi.

  When he stopped in front of us, he completely blocked our path. It was confrontation time. We were, as far as he knew, two Germans and two foreign tourists. Although he had no authority to stop us, his confidence was such that he tried to bluff as though he was an official.

  “What are you doing here?” he said, in a stern voice.

  I graced him with my killer smile. “Lahanna hola ak mudur?”

  “Don't any of you speak English?” he demanded.

  None of us responded because if one does not speak English one also does not understand the question he just asked. I tried to step around him, but he stuck out his arm.

  “Policia?” I said, with a frown.

  The large one didn't catch the mix of fake languages. He hesitated, trying to figure his next move so I made mine.

  “POLICIA!” I shouted, while flapping my arms and hopping about. “POLICIA, POLICIA!”

  Amisi added a blizzard of Egyptian curses that drew a mechanic out of the hanger to observe the fuss. Carl, who sensed our charade, joined in by shouting to the mechanic in German, “This man won't let us pass.”

  As the hangar employee started to walk our way, Morgan the Bastard decided that this was more than he expected. He pivoted around and trundled almost swiftly back into the hangar. Remembering that he who hesitates is lost, I, with genuine swiftness, led my group along the outside wall. We scrambled over the short stretch of tarmac and all but dove into the waiting door of the C-130.

  Alice and M1 were there, having watched the whole episode through the darkened doorway. The door clanged shut behind us followed by gales of laughter that told me old Biti had done good. Before the laughter had subsided, the big engines began their song and we were on our way. And all of this before the cuckoo clock had announced the hour of noon. I hadn’t even had time for a fine sauerkraut lunch.

  It was a festive mood as we settled in for a comfortable ride, back in our seats with new cups of coffee. Carl sat next to a bleary-eyed, but almost sober Anna, with a protective arm around her shoulder. It was a soothing silence.

  “I have an idea,” Amisi said.

  We all turned our attention to her.

  I assume that our first stop on our return will be to the Director's office to report our findings in person and to introduce Anna and Carl. Am I right?”

  “You bet,” Alice said. “First we go to the director and then we go to the showers.”

  M2 opened his mouth to comment and Alice reached over and stuck her fingers in the hole.

  He jerked back. “Gaaah! Your fingers taste of the desert and other unspeakable things.”

  “One gets what one deserves,” she said primly, “and now let us listen to The Desert Flower.”

  “Since we are a band now,” Amisi said, “I propose we have an office pool. What we'll each do is write down our guess about the names of the two people whose ashes are in the cracker tins. Alice will collect the papers and give them to Carl, who, in turn, will look at them and tell us who, if any of us, is correct.”

  Alice had already pulled a notebook out of her pack and tore off pages to pass around.

  While we were writing, she stood up and spoke into an intercom on the fuselage wall. “Harry, we're having an office pool to guess the names belonging to the ashes in the tins. Are you in?”

  Harry agreed, and shortly, he clambered down and gave his folded sheet to Alice who then collected the rest and handed them to Carl. Without haste, he looked at each in turn, then gave them back to Alice who wadded them up and stuffed them in one of her packs to await later destruction.

  “Every one of you
is correct,” he said, with a sweeping glance, “Both names are right, but who knows which is which?”

  “Maybe forensics can tell,” Alice said. “I'm glad no one won the pool. We have no prize.”

  “Say, Carl,” I asked, “why did you choose the regimental crest and shoulder patch for your sign and counter sign?”

  Carl looked very surprised, but he responded, “How did... No, I won't ask, but I'm surprised because I never actually used them in a message. In fact, I only drew them out once, but there were days at the motel when I had little to do. That is where I had the idea.”

  I decided not to enlighten him. The magician need not reveal his secrets to his audience.

  “I'm curious about the laptop, Carl,” Alice said. “What's the deal with the Oracle and the three blue icons? They don't seem to link to anything.”

  “I intended to set up sites for a memoir, a family history and a record of recent events, but what you have seen is as far as I got.”

  “I had better call poor Wesley,” Alice said. “This is a letdown. I thought the computer would help us.”

  “Please, also call Aunt Bee,” Amisi said, “Biti and I need some major repairs.”

  The answers to our original questions were falling neatly into the appropriate slots. We now had a monumental list of new questions about the lifter, the Hollow Mountain and the things we left behind in Egypt. These new curiosities would have to wait their turn, however, because the Dance Band had to go and perform for the director.

  I had an inspiration. I borrowed a marker from Alice and at the risk of a charge of defacing government property, I drew a familiar cartoon on one of the interior fuselage panels. Directly underneath I carefully lettered, KILROY WAS HERE. On seeing this, Harry took the marker and added in cursive beneath, COURTESY OF THE DANCE BAND. Carl commented that he had no more secrets.

  Harry saw a slump in the conversation. “I fully realize that it's early in the day, but since we are heading home, I suggest we all participate in another mass hallucination. We must toast our success with this new bottle of fairy water I just happened to find in my jacket pocket.”