Chophel knew that their attempt to overwhelm the garrison and kill all of the foreigners was doomed. He only had three men left alive with him. He could hear the sound of the firing on the other side of the door beginning to slacken. The fight outside was going badly as well. It wouldn’t be long before his brother and all of his men were all dead. His heart was heavy. He didn’t fear his own death; however, knowing that he had failed in his mission was a horrible feeling that he was about to take to his grave.
Chophel cursed his luck. He hadn’t expected to find so many people who knew how to fight at the party, or he might have brought more fighters with him.
Suddenly, the mob of panicked partygoers seemed to vanish. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw two men steadily walking towards him, firing their pistols. It is madness, thought Chophel. With his hands trembling, Chophel brought up his weapon and screamed at his men to fire on the two westerners.
It was too little, too late.
A split-second later, a deadly fusillade of bullets tore into Chophel and his men.
Shaw fired until the slide on his automatic stayed back. He was out of bullets.
Slowly lowering his smoking pistol, Shaw saw that all of the men taking cover by the doorway were dead.
The smell of cordite, death, and fear hung heavy in the air.
Aside from the whimpering from a few scared people, the room was eerily calm.
Before Shaw could say a word, Amrit was up on her feet, running to check on the wounded.
Suddenly, the front door burst open and a flood of angry blue-coated Afghan soldiers rushed inside.
A sergeant with his rifle clutched tight in his hands ran straight at Shaw and Adler. Raising his rifle, he yelled at both men.
“Lower your weapons and then stand absolutely still,” called out Amrit as she placed a cloth napkin over an open shoulder wound on Brusilov, the White Russian colonel.
Shaw smiled at the sergeant, carefully lowered his pistol and then stood absolutely still, as did Adler. Neither wanted to die at the hands of a nervous soldier. A moment later, a young soldier rushed over and quickly disarmed both men.
From behind, Mohammed Kalakani called out to the soldiers. Instantly, they lowered their weapons and stepped back from Shaw and Adler.
As he turned around, Shaw saw Kalakani walking towards them, trying to muster a little bit of dignity after hiding under a table during the entire fight.
“I cannot thank you two gentlemen enough for what you have done for me tonight,” said Kalakani. “Your bravery will not go unrewarded.”
“Your praise is reward enough, Your Highness,” said Adler with a slight bow.
“Sir, there are a lot of injured people here. If you have any medical staff with you, their assistance could be the difference between life and death for some of the wounded,” said Shaw.
“Yes, of course,” said Kalakani. Turning to a young Afghan officer he gave orders for the soldiers to secure the room and then to see to the wounded right away.
Letting out a deep, weary sigh, Shaw took his pistol back from the young soldier and walked over to Amrit. Bruce was by her side, trying to help her to stop the bleeding from a deep chest wound. Shaw could see that the Indian officer was turning pale. He was going into shock and would soon die.
Shaw placed a hand on Amrit’s shoulder and calmly said, “Amrit, you’ve done all you can. Leave him with Duncan and me. There are plenty of other people who still need your help.”
Turning her head to look up, Shaw saw that Amrit’s eyes were filled with tears.
“Yes, I guess you’re right,” said Amrit, wiping the tears away with her blood-covered hand. She stood, still struggling to control her emotions. Amrit turned her head and saw the Cubans standing around one of their own. Leaving Shaw and Bruce, she walked over to assess the man’s condition.
Shaw laid the dying soldier down. He took off his jacket, bundled it up and gently placed it under the soldier’s neck. With glassy eyes, the young officer weakly nodded, laid back and then a second later, died.
Bruce mournfully shook his head and then said, “I’d be surprised if the young lad were a day over eighteen.”
“Far too young to die like this,” said Shaw, standing up.
“Jesus, sir, what the hell just happened here?” asked Bruce as he closed the dead soldier’s eyes. “Who were those people and what the hell did they want?”
“I wish I knew, Duncan,” replied Shaw, suddenly feeling very drained. “I’ll put good money on these people being in league with the very same men who tried to kill me on the train.”
Bruce said, “Aye, it makes sense when you think about it, but what I’d like to know is how these buggers seem to know our every move.”
Shaw wearily shrugged his shoulders, stood and then looked over at the Cubans. Adler held Ortega in his arms; tears streamed down her face. He didn’t have to be told that they had lost one of their men in the fight. Although he was happy that they had proven to be more than a match for their opponents, Shaw knew that the Cubans were hiding something. He would have liked nothing more than to rush back to Amrit’s home and transmit a report to New Delhi on Adler. However, he knew that it would have to wait. People needed Amrit and the Cubans were going nowhere soon, with one of their party lying dead on the floor.
Shaw was to quickly learn that he was right about Amrit and dead wrong about the Cubans.
Chapter 13
Amrit York’s home
Outskirts of Gangtok
Shaw felt like he was going to lose his mind while he paced back and forth outside of Amrit’s study like a caged animal. He counted down the minutes until she finally received a coded response to her query regarding Carlos Adler and the remainder of the Cuban expedition. Shaw glanced down at his watch; he was more than a little annoyed to see that it had taken just over thirty-six hours for her superiors in New Delhi to get back to her.
Shaw watched as Amrit grabbed an old book on her desk, opened it and then began to decipher the lengthy message. Numbers in the coded message corresponded to specific letters in the book Amrit was using. After the two attacks on them, Shaw had strongly recommended to Amrit that she and her contact in New Delhi switch their codes. The problem was that using a new and unfamiliar code slowed Amrit down to a crawl as she checked and re-checked her work to ensure that she was decoding the message correctly.
“You know she canna decipher it any faster than she already is,” said Bruce as he handed Shaw a cup of tea.
“I know,” replied Shaw curtly.
Instantly, regretting his tone, Shaw said, “Sorry about that, Duncan; just with everything that has happened recently, I’m sort of on edge.”
“That makes two,” replied Bruce with a smile. “I was chatting with the old man downstairs who guards Miss York’s front gate, who, by the way, speaks English rather well, and he told me that the men who attacked Mohammed Kalakani’s party slaughtered all of the kitchen help before turning on us. What kind of men could do that? Those poor people weren’t a threat to anyone.”
“In a word, fanatics,” said Shaw.
“Aye, cold-blooded ones too.”
“Did he say if the authorities were able to identify any of the attackers?”
“No, he said that when the bodies were laid out, the king’s staff and the local constabulary was unable to identify any of them. The only thing they all agreed on is that they weren’t from around here.”
Shaw shook his head in frustration. “Did he say anything else?”
“Yeah, that’s why I came to see you. It would appear that the Ruler of Sikkim has forbidden any foreigners, other than the army, from leaving the capital region. I was told that he gave the order to ensure our safety while the attack is investigated.”
A sour look crossed Shaw’s face. “Wonderful, now we’re trapped here.”
“We may be, but I also told that the Cubans conveniently skipped town before the order was given.”
“They must be in a h
urry to get somewhere fast. I bet they didn’t even take the time to bury their fallen comrade.”
“The dead man’s name was Diego,” said Bruce. “I was told that they left him behind to be cremated. His ashes were to be returned to Cuba. The man at the gate said that the Cubans left right after Kalakani’s party. A dozen or so Afghan guards also went with them for security. They hit the road in several trucks loaded up with equipment and supplies.”
“Unbelievable,” muttered Shaw.
“Gents, I’m finished decoding the transmission. You might as well come in and take a seat,” said Amrit, looking up from her notes. Her eyes were red and swollen. Shaw doubted that she had slept more than an hour since the attack at the palace. She had refused to leave until the last casualty had been evacuated to a nearby British Army hospital.
Both men walked in, grabbed a chair each and then sat down facing Amrit. They looked like a couple of schoolboys waiting for their teacher to begin the lesson.
“All right, I’ve got a response from New Delhi to our queries, and you’re not going to like it,” said Amrit, looking straight at Shaw.
“Well, since today is just filled with good news,” replied Shaw sarcastically, “you might as well cut to the chase and tell us what you have learned.”
“Carlos Adler is not a Cuban national; he is an SS colonel,” said Amrit bluntly.
“Surely not,” said Bruce, dumbfounded by the news. “He didn’t look German to me.”
Amrit continued. “He has a German father and a Spanish mother. Adler is a highly decorated officer and is reputed to be a ruthlessly efficient killer.”
“That much was evident during the firefight,” said Shaw. “The man must have ice water in his veins. What about the other people in his party?”
“Intelligence believes that they are all Nazi agents,” replied Amrit. “They may be of mixed parentage like Adler, or hardcore Nazi fanatics from outside of Germany. Either way, they are undoubtedly the people you were sent here to find.”
“And they now have almost two days’ head start on us,” said Shaw irritably.
Amrit ignored Shaw’s comment and continued. “Mohammed Kalakani is well known for his hatred of the British crown. It is believed that he helped smuggle Adler and his people into India and is actively supporting them. After listening to your conversation in the hallway, his complicity in this affair is all but confirmed.”
“Was there anything else?” asked Shaw.
“Yes, we have been ordered to capture Adler and his people. They want them all brought back to New Delhi for questioning. If we are unable to do that, then we are to stop them by using whatever means you deem necessary.”
Shaw took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. People who sat behind desks and wrote orders telling people in the field to use whatever means necessary, needed a good swift kick in the rear for writing such utter nonsense, thought Shaw. He knew his job; he didn’t need some pencil pushing bureaucrat to remind him of his duty.
Shaw was growing irritated; making sure that his voice was calm and measured, he said, “Amrit, I doubt we could capture Adler and his people, even if we wanted to. They have a two-day head start on us and are all no doubt well-trained and resourceful killers. Since I doubt they are still even in India, we can’t count on the Indian Army to assist us in capturing them. We have to be realistic; aside from myself, no one else in this room is a professional soldier.”
Amrit said, “What about Mister Bruce?”
“Miss, I’m an RAF photographer,” explained Bruce. “I’m not a commando like Mister Shaw. Truth be told, I’m a lousy shot and I’m only here because I was drafted into the SOE by the good captain.”
Shaw nodded his head. “Trust me, I’ve tried to teach him how to shoot, and he’s right; he is a lousy shot.”
Amrit said, “For now, I guess the idea of trying to capture them all alive is off the table. Do you have an idea where they might have gone? Khan said that they were heading for Bhutan. We have forces stationed there. We could ask New Delhi to warn our men to be on the lookout for Adler’s party.”
Bruce smiled and said, “Miss York, they’re not heading for Bhutan. That story was nothing more than a ruse. Earlier this year, another team of Nazis slipped unseen into Gangtok and then made their way into Tibet, where they mysteriously vanished without a trace a few days later. However, before they disappeared, they sent a message that was intercepted by the army in which they stated that they were planning to head to the border region with Bhutan. It only stands to reason that Adler’s group is following in their footsteps.”
“Yes, of course,” said Shaw, remembering the briefing they had received back in England.
“So what do you propose we do, Mister Shaw?” asked Amrit.
“Duncan and I need to leave as soon as possible if we’re going to stand a chance of catching up with Adler,” said Shaw.
“I can smuggle you out after dark,” said Amrit. “I know a few back roads that aren’t patrolled very much. We could be at the border with Tibet by first light.”
“That won’t be necessary,” replied Shaw. “Just tell show us the route on a map, and we’ll make our way across the border.”
Amrit smiled at Shaw. “Mister Shaw, can you or Duncan speak Tibetan?”
“No.”
“Well, I speak it fairly well. Also, have you ever been anywhere near the Tibet-Bhutan border?”
“No,” replied Shaw. He could see that he badly needed her expertise even if he wasn’t ready to admit it. The last thing he wanted to do was draw Amrit into a fight he wasn’t sure they could win.
“Mister Shaw, my brother and I used to go climbing in Tibet until he met his unfortunate demise doing what he loved to do. So let’s just end this discussion. I’m coming with you,” said Amrit firmly. “Without me, you’ll get lost and will end up detained up by the authorities. Your mission will end in failure when you are both deported back across the border before the week is out.”
“Captain, you canna disagree with her logic,” said Bruce. “You may be good with European languages, but Miss York here has the local knowhow that we’re seriously missing.”
“All right, you can come along, but leave the dirty work to Duncan and me,” said Shaw.
“Mister Shaw, I’m not some helpless heroine from one of your Hollywood films,” said Amrit, her voice sharp and cutting. “After my brother died, I voluntarily took over his job here in Gangtok. I’ve had to look after myself for years. There are plenty of lawless bandits roaming through the countryside, and I’ve had the misfortune to run into them from time to time, and I’ve always come out ahead.”
Shaw raised his hands in surrender. “Amrit, I meant no disrespect. I have no doubt that you are a resourceful woman and can look after yourself; I just want you to understand that the people we are up against are fanatics. Killing you won’t bother them in the slightest. They’ll stop at nothing to get what they’re after.”
“James, I thank you for your honesty and your concern; however, I’ve already made up my mind to help, so we had best get ourselves organized if we’re going to get on the road as soon as the sun goes down.”
Shaw said, “Amrit, would you happen to have anything larger than the pistols Duncan, and I are carrying? I have no doubt that we’re going to need some additional firepower over the next couple of days.”
Amrit stood up, walked over to a closed closet, inserted a key in the lock, and opened the door. Amrit said, “Will these do?”
A wide grin crept across Shaw’s face when he saw a couple of double-barreled shotguns, and a British Army Lee Enfield .303 rifle in perfect order with a sniper’s scope mounted on it resting against the wall. “They’ll do quite nicely. Duncan can have a shotgun, and I’ll take the rifle,” said Shaw.
“How come I get a shotgun?” said Bruce. “I’ve never fired one in my life. I’ve at least taken some training on the Enfield.”
“Because it’s the only way you’ll ever hit anything,” rep
lied Shaw.
“While you two gentlemen pack, I’ll nip into town and get us some supplies. We’ll need some extra jerry cans of petrol if we are going to be gone for more than a few days. Come to think of it,” said Amrit looking at Shaw and Bruce, “I’ll also pick up some less western-looking clothes for you two gentlemen to wear; no need to stand out any more than you already do.”
Shaw nodded his head. It was clear that Amrit knew her job and without her, he knew that Adler would undoubtedly succeed in finding the mythical Vril power, if it truly existed, and that was something Shaw was not prepared to allow, not ever.
Chapter 14
India-Tibet Border
True to her word, Amrit arrived at the border just as the first light of dawn crept over the tall rocky peaks. Using roads barely wide enough for her truck, she drove to the border station at Nathu La. However, as they were trying to avoid the authorities, Amrit turned off the gravel road a mile back from the border and headed up a steep path that Shaw was certain was for goats only. The narrow path led to a small cluster of houses nestled atop a hill shrouded in fog. She pulled the truck up alongside a dilapidated white brick building. Amrit parked her truck and then hit the horn twice, announcing that they were here.
Where here was, was lost on Shaw. He couldn’t see more than ten yards in any direction. He would have to trust Amrit’s sense of direction.
Hitting the truck’s horn twice more, Amrit got out of her truck, pulled on her thick woolen jacket and then stood quite relaxed at the front of her vehicle.
Shaw walked over and said, “Care to let me know what’s going on?”
“You’ll see,” replied Amrit.
Bruce, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, stepped out of the truck. He, like Shaw, had changed into traditional Tibetan clothing. Gone were the two-piece suits, replaced by comfortable, loose fitting clothing that made them look like a pair of farmers. Quickly doing up his sheep’s wool lined jacket, Bruce felt a shiver go up his spine. The small hamlet appeared as empty as a ghost town.
The Mountain (A James Shaw Mission Book 2) Page 10