The Mountain (A James Shaw Mission Book 2)

by Richard Turner

  Drolma nodded his head. “He disappeared shortly after that.”

  “Shot, more like,” said Shaw.

  “Well that kinda explains everything,” said Bruce. “Professor Hill said back in England that the Germans are convinced that there is something, which could help them win the war, hidden somewhere in this region of Tibet. They must have learned about the legend of the Starchild from this man. As this is their fourth attempt to retrieve whatever was stashed away in that cave centuries ago, they must really want to get their hands on this power source.”

  “If they did get their hands on it, how quickly could they build a bomb and how powerful could it be?” asked Shaw, dreading the answer.

  “Sir, I just like to read a lot of different things; I’m hardly a physicist, but if the Germans are already working on an atomic bomb, this can only help speed things up, perhaps saving them years of research and development. As for its potential destructive power, people have written articles in which they believe such a device could level an entire city,” replied Bruce.

  A cold shudder ran down Shaw’s back. A nation bent upon world domination with a weapon that could destroy whole cities was too awful to contemplate. He knew the Lama was right. With additional men from the temple, they stood at best a fifty-fifty chance of stopping Adler.

  Looking over at the Lama, Shaw said, “Sir, I accept your request to lead your men.”

  Drolma smiled and stood, as did Shaw and Bruce. “Captain Shaw, I knew you would not turn me down. Now, I must talk with my grandson and Mister MacDonald and inform them how I wish things to proceed before you depart in the morning. You have a long road ahead of you. It will take you five days to reach the bottom of the mountain and perhaps as many or more days of climbing before you reach the sacred cave if you have not stopped Adler before that.”

  “Very good, sir,” said Shaw.

  Drolma stepped close to Shaw, reached over and took Shaw’s right hand in his. He closed eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he looked straight up into Shaw’s gray eyes. “Captain, I see that you are still troubled by the death of the German soldier you killed in France. That is why you could not kill Sangdrol in cold blood when you had the chance. I want you to listen very carefully to my words. What happened was out of your hands. Do not dwell on it anymore. I want you clear your conscience. You will need a calm heart and a clear mind to face what lies before you.”

  “And what lies before me?” asked Shaw.

  “Death.”

  Chapter 18

  Base camp

  Mount Naraka

  With a weary sigh, Bruce plonked his aching frame down on the ground and then with a pained expression on his face, he pulled off his snug leather boots. He looked down and saw his toes wiggling through a couple of large holes in his worn socks. Bruce removed his socks and started to massage his aching feet.

  “You’d better fix those socks before we start the climb,” Shaw said to Bruce as he took a seat beside his friend. “I have a needle and thread in my pack if you need them.”

  “No, it’s ok,” said Bruce. “I always carry spare socks.”

  “Suit yourself; however, you may need all the clothes you can carry when we’re standing on top of that mountain.”

  “Captain, do you know how far we’ve walked in the past five days?”

  “No, but it seems like a lot, doesn’t it?”

  “Let me enlighten you then. On the first day after we left the horses behind, we walked just over eleven miles through the worst terrain I have ever seen in my life. I’m truly surprised I didn’t fall into one of the deep crevasses along the way, my poor body never to be seen again. On the second day, we walked thirteen more, which was made all the more miserable by the cold rain that fell for most of that day. On the third day, twelve more. Let’s not forget the rickety rope bridge we had to cross over that raging river, which looked to me like it had been built by a bunch of drunken boy scouts, sometime in the last century. After ten miles on the fourth day, we pushed on for another fourteen today, which gives us a grand total of sixty miles. If I had wanted to march up and down narrow rock-strewn mountain passes, I would have joined the bloody infantry.”

  “Well, at least it’s behind us now,” said Shaw, optimistically.

  “That’s a cheery thought, Captain; however, all of that pales in comparison to the warning signs that we have been seeing or, in this case, not seeing for the past two days.”

  Shaw scrunched up his face and said, “What do you mean, warning signs?”

  “Have you noticed the distinct lack of dwellings the closer we get to the mountain?”

  “Now that you mention it, I have.”

  “Also, there has not been a single animal, wandering through the countryside for the past two days. It’s as if this entire region has been picked clean.”

  “Odd isn’t it,” said Shaw, realizing that his friend was right. Normally, there would have been birds chirping in the trees around. Instead, it was eerily quiet.

  “Aye, it’s odd all right, and now we have a bloody great big mountain in front of us,” said Bruce, pointing up at Mount Nakara, looming high above them.

  “What are you two going on about?” asked Amrit as she strolled over, carrying a red woolen blanket and a small leather satchel slung over her shoulder.

  “We were just saying how relaxing the approach to the base of the mountain has been,” replied Shaw.

  “Yes, it wasn’t too bad, was it,’ said Amrit. “Once, my brother Sagun and I spent a summer trying to climb Mount Kamet, in Northern India. We spent weeks trudging up and down its slopes. We were young and foolish back then. We wanted to be the first people to ever climb the mountain. Unfortunately, we were rank amateurs at the time and had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. The terrible weather and exhaustion soon forced us to turn back well before we ever reached its summit.”

  “How does Kamet compare with Nakara?” asked Shaw.

  Turning her head to look up at the ice-covered mountain, Amrit said, “Kamet stands at over twenty-five thousand feet tall. I would say that Nakara looks perhaps a few thousand feet shorter. However, that is only my best guess and not a scientifically accurate measurement. ”

  A moment later, Choling walked over and told them that MacDonald wanted to see them all right away. Shaw could hear the bitter resentment in the young man’s voice. His grandfather told him that he had to unconditionally follow Shaw’s orders no matter what, and that dug at Choling’s volatile ego.

  “Good afternoon, would you like some tea?” asked MacDonald as Shaw’s party approached.

  “Yes, that would be fine,” replied Shaw.

  A few uncomfortable minutes passed while they waited for the kettle to boil over an open fire.

  After filling everyone’s cup with hot black tea, MacDonald said, “It looks like the weather is going to be good for the next few days. After that, who knows?”

  “What can we expect should the weather turn on us?” asked Shaw.

  “Depending where you are on the mountain, it could be rain, sleet, or snow, lots of snow,” answered MacDonald.

  “Well, I guess we should make the most of our time and climb as fast and as high as we can over the next couple of days,” said Shaw.

  MacDonald turned to face Amrit. “Miss York, as I am too old to climb Nakara, and Choling is a novice climber, what route would you recommend to the cavern?”

  Amrit cleared her throat, stood up and looked up at the mountain. “I believe that we should follow the long rocky feature that juts out of the mountain like a crooked elbow. The slope up to the bend in the elbow looks to be fairly gradual, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to climb. After that, we’ll have to navigate our way up a steep slope that leads to the long glacial ridge a few thousand feet below the summit. Once we are up onto the glacier, it will be a slow climb to the cavern. Without the necessary time to rest and acclimatize, everyone should be prepared to suffer the effects of high altitude sickness.”

/>   “And just what might that entail?” asked Bruce.

  “Once we are above nine thousand feet, the air will be much thinner than it is here at the base of the mountain. High altitude sickness affects everyone differently. Choling and his men, while not real climbers, are used to traveling in the mountains and will be more readily able to adapt, at least initially. You and Captain Shaw, however, will undoubtedly succumb to its effects. Depending on your strength and your ability to recover, you will face headaches, nausea, lack of appetite, shortness of breath, vomiting, inability to sleep, dizziness and diarrhea.”

  “Oh, is that all? I thought it might be something nasty,” said Bruce sarcastically.

  “It will get worse the higher we climb, and if we don’t stop Adler’s group early on, we could face the prospect of climbing so high that we will need supplemental oxygen to live.”

  “How much bottled oxygen do we have?” asked Shaw.

  “MacDonald only obtained enough oxygen for three people. There is none for the six Tibetans the Lama insisted come with us,” answered Amrit.

  “My men will not need it,” said Choling.

  Amrit smiled at Choling’s arrogance. “I hope you’re right, or we could be forced to turn back empty-handed.”

  “We won’t. I made a vow to my grandfather back at the temple to stop these foreigners who are here to violate our sacred valley,” said Choling.

  “It’s not just your valley that is at danger should Adler succeed,” said Shaw.

  “I don’t care about anywhere else, Mister Shaw,” said Choling. “You can all burn in hell for all I care.” With that, Choling turned his back on them all and walked away.

  “That is one angry young man,” said Bruce.

  “His father died when he was very young,” said MacDonald. “He has been mad at the world ever since.”

  “As long as he keeps his temper in check and listens to me, we should be ok,” said Shaw.

  “Good luck with that, Captain,” said Bruce. “I’ve seen his type before. I’m not so sure that Choling is ready to take orders from anyone but Choling.”

  MacDonald said, “As much as I would like to, I cannot go with you. I will remain here with two of Choling’s older warriors until you return. Have a hearty meal tonight as it will probably be your last good one until it’s all over. You should head out first thing in the morning right after the young monk who accompanied us from the temple performs a ritual blessing.”

  “A what?” said Bruce.

  “It’s a ceremony to wish us well and to protect us on our climb,” explained Amrit.

  Leaving MacDonald by his fire, Shaw’s party made their way back to the spot they had picked out for the night.

  “Who’s hungry?’ asked Amrit.

  “Me…I’m always hungry,” said Bruce.

  “Ok then, while James makes a fire, why don’t you fetch us some water from the stream? Make sure it’s from running water and not a pool. You don’t want to add dysentery to your list of potential health hazards.”

  “No, that wouldn’t be too pleasant,” said Bruce as he picked up a small iron cooking pot and made his way over to the stream running nearby their camp. After finding a spot with flowing water, Bruce got down on his knees and scooped up a pot full of water. He was about to stand up and walk away when he spotted a set of odd-looking tracks in the sandy ground. Bruce instantly felt a chill run down his spine. The forest was unnaturally quiet. Not even the insects made a sound. Warily, he walked over to tracks and saw that they were footprints. He placed his foot beside one of the tracks and was taken back when he realized that the track was at least twice as wide and almost three times as long as his foot. It somewhat resembled an enormous elongated bear’s track. What bothered him were the deep indentations in the sand where its long, sharp claws had dug into the wet ground.

  An uncomfortable feeling of being watched seeped into Bruce’s chest. He raised his head and looked about trying to see if whatever had made the tracks was still around.

  Bruce shook his head at his foolishness. He stepped back and turned around straight into the chest of something smelly and hairy. With a frightened yelp on his lips, Bruce jumped back, tripped over a rock on the ground and landed on his rear, spilling his pot of water. With his heart racing, Bruce looked up at the thing that had blocked his way. Instantly, he began to nervously chuckle to himself. Standing over him was Sangdrol, dressed in a thick fur jacket.

  Sangdrol bent down and effortlessly hauled Bruce back up onto his feet.

  “Thanks,” said Bruce.

  Sangdrol smiled back. A day after leaving the temple, Bruce and Shaw had learned that Sangdrol was mute. He communicated through grunts and hand gestures.

  “You scared me,” said Bruce, knowing full well that Sangdrol did not understand a word of what was being said.

  After brushing the dirt off Bruce, Sangdrol bent down and handed him his empty pot.

  Bruce took the pot and then pointed at the footprints. “Bear? Did a bear leave these tracks?”

  Sangdrol looked down at the tracks and then scrunched up his face trying his best to understand what Bruce was saying.

  Placing the pot down, Bruce did his best impersonation of a bear walking along on its two hind feet.

  An understanding look swept across Sangdrol’s broad face. Moving over beside Bruce, he raised his hand well above his head and then bared his teeth menacingly.

  “Great, they have enormous bears with nasty sharp teeth in these mountains,” muttered Bruce.

  He quickly refilled his pot and followed Sangdrol back to the camp. When he arrived, he handed Amrit the water and took a seat on the ground. His stomach rumbled loudly.

  “Tell your stomach to wait thirty minutes,” said Amrit to Bruce as she started their supper.

  Bruce patted his stomach, turned his head, and saw Shaw with his nose buried in the journal given to them back at the temple.

  “Learn anything new, sir?” asked Bruce.

  “I think I understand why we haven’t run across Adler or any of his people,” replied Shaw, looking up from the book.

  “Why’s that?” asked Bruce.

  “Whereas we have approached from the west, the route the Germans took in 1939 was from the north. We’ve made good time coming through the mountains to get here. I’m willing to bet that Adler is now no more than a day’s march ahead of us.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s good,” replied Bruce.

  “Is there anything in there about what happened to the expedition?” asked Amrit as she added some spices to the food in the pot.

  “It’s really kind of vague,” replied Shaw. “Herr Muller kept a meticulous record of the expedition until their second night on the mountain. After that, he wrote sporadically and what he wrote doesn’t make much sense.”

  “We have a few minutes until supper is ready,” said Amrit. “So why don’t you tell us what he wrote?”

  “Ok, here goes,” said Shaw. “Muller wrote that he was certain that they were being followed. He never says by whom, just that someone was following their tracks.”

  “Choling’s people?” asked Bruce.

  “No, I don’t believe so, or the Lama would have known about the expedition,” said Shaw. “Muller wrote that a powerful storm came in from the west, trapping them for several days just below the lip of a tall glacier near the summit. This is where things start to get confusing. He wrote that one night, one of their party, a man called Scharnhorst, went to relieve himself and never came back. They searched for hours, but with the blowing snow and the dark, they couldn’t venture too far from the safety of their camp. His body was never found.”

  “If he was suffering from high altitude sickness, he could have easily become disoriented in the snow and before too long gotten hopelessly lost. He most likely died of exposure, or he could have fallen to his death. Either way, if there was a major storm dumping snow on the side of the mountain, they would never have found his remains,” said Amrit.

 
; “Terrible way to go if you ask me, all alone in the dark knowing that you’re slowly freezing to death,” said Bruce with a shudder.

  “There’s one last entry,” said Shaw, looking up at his friends. “‘Night is falling. They are coming. God help us all.’”

  Amrit said, “I wonder what he meant.”

  “Whatever it was, I don’t like the sound of it, not one bit,” said Bruce.

  “Well, now that we’ve thoroughly depressed ourselves,” said Amrit, “Who’s ready for supper?”

  “If it’s as good as the last thing you made, I’m ready whenever you are,” said Bruce, holding out his bowl.

  Shaw shook his head. If Bruce turned down food during the climb, it would be the first time in his life, thought Shaw.

  “Smells delicious, I’ll take some too,” said Shaw.

  For the next few minutes, they ate in silence, looking up at the imposing mountain as the sun dipped down behind it turning the snow near the summit a blood-red color. It was a less than auspicious omen to start their climb.

  Chapter 19

  Mount Naraka

  Shaw woke before dawn, stretched out his weary muscles, crawled over by the fire and got the embers burning again. He made a fresh pot of coffee before waking his companions. He turned his head and looked up at the darkened silhouette of Mount Naraka, wondering what the day had in store for them. As the slope was not very steep to start with, he expected that they would climb a good six or seven thousand feet up the side of the mountain before they had to stop and set up their camp for the night.

  After shaking his friends awake, he told them to stow away their blankets and gear. When they returned, Shaw handed around cups of freshly brewed coffee and some sugarcoated biscuits for breakfast. A couple of minutes later, he doused the fire and led his friends over to the Tibetans, who had reverently gathered around the young monk. Shaw and Bruce respectfully removed their caps and stood silent while the holy man performed his ritual.

  The monk stood in front of an altar made of piled up stones, praying to the gods for the safe passage and return of the team from the mountain. Brightly-colored prayer flags hung from string tied from the altar to a pair of nearby trees. The Tibetans placed offerings of cake, butter, and a couple of pieces of dried fruit on the altar as offerings to the Gods. A minute later, the Tibetans rhythmically chanted along with the monk while he prayed.