The Mountain (A James Shaw Mission Book 2)

by Richard Turner

  Fifteen long, cold minutes passed while the camp was set up.

  As Shaw crawled inside his tent, he could smell the meal that Bruce had just made. It was a concoction of tinned chicken stew and vegetables along with some rice and potatoes. Even though his stomach wasn’t in the mood to eat, Shaw knew that he had to replace the calories he had burned off during the day’s ascent.

  Slowly taking off his winter clothing, Shaw sat down on his sleeping bag and watched as Bruce gingerly removed his boots. The bottoms of his feet looked like hamburger.

  He turned his right foot so he could see the underneath. Bruce grimaced when he saw the silver dollar-sized blisters on his foot. He checked his other foot and saw that it was chewed up as well.

  “Here, use this,” said Amrit as she handed Bruce a tin of foot powder. “It’ll help keep your feet dry.”

  “What I need is a couple of pairs of clean socks,” said Bruce.

  “Turn the ones you have inside out and then put them on the other foot. It’s not the greatest, but it’s better than putting the same, old worn ones back on the same feet. It’s an old marching trick you learn in the infantry,” said Shaw with a wink at Bruce.

  “I must have missed that at photography school in the RAF,” replied Bruce, trying his best not to sound too sarcastic.

  Shaw looked down at his watch and said, “Well, Duncan, do whatever you have to do and then eat up. We’re on sentry in an hour’s time.”

  “Wonderful,” muttered Bruce as he liberally covered his feet with foot powder.

  In the dark, just out of range of the flashlights, several dark shapes got up from behind a long series of icy boulders. Covered in snow, they warily began to creep forward. They slowly stood and then watched the two men on sentry as they shuffled their feet in the snow. They silently waited until the two men turned their backs to them. In an instant, the intruders struck. Silently, efficiently, both sentries were dispatched with a knife to the throat.

  Adler pulled down his hood and pointed at Shaw’s tent.

  Silvas drew his pistols, walked over and grabbed hold of the weapons that had been left outside. Behind him, Zaro and the three surviving Afghans surrounded Choling’s shelters.

  “Mister Shaw, I suggest that you and your compatriots come outside with your hands up,” said Adler. “If you have any weapons on you, I suggest you surrender them to us when you come out.”

  Inside the tent, Shaw’s heart skipped a beat the instant he heard Adler’s voice.

  “And what if we choose not to?” asked Shaw.

  “Then you leave me with no alternative, but to kill you. Please don’t think about trying any heroics. I have all of your weapons and am very well-armed,” replied Adler.

  Shaw looked over at Bruce and Amrit. Both looked as if they had been punched in the gut. They had all walked into a trap and were now Adler’s prisoners. He knew they had no choice. If they tried to resist or escape, Adler and his men would mercilessly kill them.

  “Ok, we surrender. Just give us a minute to pull our boots back on,” said Shaw.

  “One minute and not a second more,” replied Adler.

  Shaw was the first one out of the tent. As he stood up, he handed his 9mm automatic over to Silvas before doing up his heavy, fur-lined jacket and pulling on his balaclava. Amrit followed close behind as did Bruce; both gave up their revolvers. From the corner of his eye, Shaw saw Choling, Sangdrol and Palden, the man Shaw had saved at the crevasse, being searched by the Afghans.

  “I take it the men on sentry duty are dead?” said Shaw to Adler.

  “You are correct,” replied Adler.

  Shaw shook his head. “They didn’t have to die. You had the drop on us; you could have easily forced us all to surrender without any bloodshed.”

  Adler ignored Shaw’s comment. Looking over at Amrit, he said, “Now, Doctor York, are you a real doctor or was that just a cover story?”

  “No, I am a real doctor. Why, do you have casualties?” replied Amrit.

  “I need you to look at Señorita Ortega. She’s not doing well. I think she’s suffering from a severe case of high altitude sickness.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I’ll have her brought to your tent right away.” Adler looked over at Silvas and told him to fetch Ortega.

  “If I’m going to treat her, then I’m going to head back inside my tent this instant to make a comfortable spot for her to lie in. I also want Sergeant Bruce to assist me.”

  “Why?” demanded Adler.

  “I need someone to keep a stove going all night long. Miss Ortega is probably dehydrated. She is going to need to drink a lot to replace the fluids she has lost. Trust me; of the two of men with me, Bruce is the least of your worries. He’s suffering from altitude sickness as well. Also, I am going to need a fresh oxygen bottle brought to me before she arrives.”

  “Please carry on,” said Adler. He ordered Zaro to fetch a cylinder of oxygen from their supplies.

  “Come on, Duncan,” said Amrit. “We have work to do.”

  Bruce saw Shaw nod his head. He turned about, grabbed the half-empty propane stove sitting outside of their tent, and went to fill it up.

  “So what do you propose we do now?” Shaw said to Adler.

  “If you give me your word that you won’t try to escape or harm any of my men, you will be a free man,” replied Adler.

  “Free?”

  “A poor choice of words, perhaps. You will be treated fairly; however, you and your men are still my prisoners. I just won’t waste my time guarding you.”

  Shaw shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I’m not sure I can trust an SS officer’s word. However, I don’t see any other recourse open to me so you have my assurance that we won’t try to escape of try to kill any of you. At least, not today.”

  Adler’s face turned cold and serious. “Just so we understand one another, Mister Shaw, should any one of your men step out of line, I will shoot the Tibetans, followed by your doctor and then your sergeant in front of you as punishment for disobeying me.”

  Adler was dealing with the wrong man if he thought he could bully Shaw.

  Shaw stepped close. Speaking softly, so no one but Adler could hear him, Shaw said, “Now you listen up, Nazi bastard, if you or any of your men harm a single hair on Doctor York’s head, I will gut you and leave you to die out here on this frozen piece of hell.”

  Adler’s finger tensed around the trigger of his pistol. He fought to control his temper as it raged through him. No one, absolutely no one, had ever dared to speak to him in such a threatening manner. If he didn’t need Shaw to lead the men he intended to use to haul his supply of explosives up to the cavern, he would have ended the American’s life right then and there.

  “Excuse me,” said Zaro as he carried a fresh bottle of oxygen to Amrit’s tent. Adler stepped back and glared at Shaw.

  A moment later, Silvas walked between the two men and then gently helped Ortega crawl into the tent.

  Adler lowered his pistol and put it away in a jacket pocket.

  Suddenly, a loud animal call pierced the night. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared out into the night, trying to see where the noise had come from. The blowing snow hadn’t relented one bit; in fact, it had become worse over the past few minutes. Visibility had dropped to no more than a couple of yards.

  A couple of seconds later, more animals cried out. Shaw struggled to determine where the beasts were. It seemed to him that the calls were coming from all around them.

  “What is going on?” asked a petrified Zaro.

  “It’s those animals again,” said Adler, checking that Shaw’s confiscated rifle was loaded.

  “Give me your flashlight,” said Shaw to Zaro.

  With his hand uncontrollably shaking, Zaro handed Shaw his torch.

  Shaw turned it on and then stepped to the edge of their camp and shone the flashlight down the side of the mountain. In the blowing snow, it barely lit up more than ten yards, but that was enough. A
long line of red glowing eyes stared back at him. Instantly, Shaw felt his mouth turn dry with fear. It looked as if there were twice as many creatures as there had been the night before. Shaw edged back and almost bumped into Adler and Zaro, who had stepped forward to see what was out there.

  “Joseph, Mary, and Jesus, we’re doomed,” cried Zaro as he crossed himself.

  Adler went to raise his rifle.

  “No,” said Shaw tersely.

  “Why not?” said Adler.

  “If they wanted to, they could have killed all of us while we stood around talking like a bunch of fools in the dark,” replied Shaw. “If you fire on them, they’ll surely attack and kill us all.”

  “Then what do they want?” asked Adler, lowering his weapon.

  “They’re herding us higher up the mountain,” said Shaw. “Last night they saw what our weapons can do. I don’t think they’re ready for another go at us, at least not yet. I suspect that they’re hoping the altitude, and the cold will weaken us to the point that we become easy prey.”

  “They’re just animals,” said Adler.

  “Well, they’re smart enough to know not to attack people carrying weapons.”

  Suddenly, a terrified scream from somewhere back in the camp pierced the night.

  Another man’s voice called out in the dark.

  “Damn it, they split us into two groups. They’re in the camp!” said Shaw, turning on his heels. As he reached for his pistol, Shaw cursed. He no longer had a weapon on him.

  With Adler leading, Shaw and Zaro ran back towards their tents. In seconds, they stopped outside of Amrit’s shelter; Silvas was standing there with a submachine gun clenched tight in his hands.

  “Did you see what happened?” asked Adler.

  “No, Patrón, I heard a scream and then a man started yelling in Tibetan,” replied Silvas.

  Shaw pushed past both men. He dashed over to Choling’s tent and found him standing there with a murderous look of anger on his face.

  “Choling, what happened?” asked Shaw.

  “A Rakshasa came into the camp. It killed one of the Afghan guards and when Palden tried to stop it, the beast killed him too,” replied Choling.

  “What is a Rakshasa?” asked Adler.

  “It’s what’s hunting us,” replied Choling.

  “Give it up, Adler,” said Shaw. “If we turn back in the morning, assuming we make it through the night; we might make it. That’s if the beasts let us leave. If we stay here, we’re all going to die at the hands of those beasts.”

  “Patrón, we’re down to two Afghanis and two Tibetans to carry our supplies,” said Zaro. “Both Ortega and the Scottish sergeant are sick. If we start off at dawn, we can descend a fair way down the mountain, perhaps far enough that these monsters would leave us alone.”

  “No,” snapped Adler. “We are less than a day’s climb from the cavern. I won’t turn back, not now. We are too close to finding the source of the Vril power.”

  Shaw shook his head and then said, “Are you willing to die for a legend?”

  “Yes, Mister Shaw, I am willing to die for something I believe in,” replied Adler.

  Shaw was certain that Adler was losing his mind. Whether it was the altitude or his blind fanaticism, Adler wasn’t thinking straight anymore. Shaw was about to say something when he heard an unusual crunching noise coming from just outside of their camp. He slowly brought up his flashlight and shone it in the direction of the noise. At first, he saw nothing in the blowing snow. Cautiously stepping forward, Shaw froze in his tracks when he saw several large snow-covered shapes bent over the corpse of a man, ripping and tearing the flesh from his body. Steam rose into the freezing night air from the ripped-open stomach of the dead man.

  “Jesus,” muttered Shaw to himself.

  Zaro walked over and saw the beasts feasting on the remains of one of the Afghans. With a cry on his lips, he brought his pistol up.

  Shaw instantly lashed out with his fist, hitting Zaro’s hand, just as he fired his pistol. The sound of the weapon firing echoed down the mountain.

  The shot went wide of the creatures. A large, older-looking beast slowly turned its blood-soaked face to see what had made the noise. With a threatening growl from deep inside its chest, the beast revealed its long jagged teeth as a warning to the interlopers before continuing its meal.

  “Why did you do that?” said Zaro, his voice both angry and scared.

  “Because they’ve got what they want for tonight,” said Shaw. “If you had hit one, they would have been on us before you could have done anything about it.”

  “He’s right,” added Adler. “It’s a small price to pay.”

  Shaw couldn’t believe his ears. Obviously, some lives were less important than others. “If we keep going, Herr Adler, we’ll all end up like that,” said Shaw.

  “I won’t let it happen,” replied Adler. “My destiny lies on another path.”

  “Listen to yourself,” said Shaw. “You’re delusional.”

  Adler turned to face Shaw. Anger flashed in his eyes. “You should get some rest tonight, Mister Shaw; you’re going to need it tomorrow. We have a hundred foot tall glacier to climb before pushing onto the prize.”

  Shaw didn’t care about tomorrow; getting through the night alive was his main concern right now. “Adler, listen to me. If we’re going to make it until dawn, you need to light up the camp as best you can. If you have lanterns, flashlights, flares, anything that will make light, I suggest that you use them. These creatures are nocturnal hunters. Keep them at bay and we might stand a chance…at least for tonight.”

  Adler looked over at Zaro and said, “Take everything you can find and place them in a perimeter around the tents. Make sure that Silvas understands that he’s going to have to check the lights on an hourly basis to make sure that they stay lit.”

  Zaro nodded his head and made his way back to the cache of packs that he had hidden earlier.

  “If I knew I could trust you, I would give you your weapons back,” Adler said to Shaw.

  “If you did, I’d probably kill you where you stand and take everyone I could off this mountain before anyone else died,” replied Shaw.

  Adler bristled at Shaw’s unwavering defiance. “Get some sleep, Mister Shaw; you’ve got a long climb ahead of you.”

  Without saying another word, Shaw walked over to Choling and told him what was going on. Suddenly feeling drained and tired, crawled back inside his tent. He could see Amrit sitting there drinking a cup of hot tea. Beside her, Bruce was sitting up with an oxygen mask over his face. Señorita Ortega lay propped up in a sleeping bag, fast asleep. Like Bruce, she was on bottled oxygen. Shaw noted that with four people inside a three-person tent with all of their winter clothing, it was more than a bit cramped.

  “How are you doing?” Shaw asked Bruce as he undid his heavy jacket.

  Bruce lifted up his facemask and said, “I’m doing ok. Still feel real knackered, though. I’m amazed that I made up that slope. I don’t mind telling you that I thought about turning about and heading home several times today. And to think, some people do this to relax.”

  “I heard that,” said Amrit, feigning being insulted.

  “We heard a horrible scream about ten minutes ago,” said Bruce. “Did something happen?”

  Taking a cup of tea from Amrit, Shaw said told them all about the death of the two men and about the beasts following them up the mountain. When he said that as far as he was concerned everything had changed and leaving alive was all that mattered now, they were relieved. However, when Shaw said that Adler had refused to listen to the idea of turning back, both cursed the day he had been born.

  “So what are we going to do?” asked Amrit.

  “Our options are limited. We have no weapons and without them, we’d never make it off the mountain alive,” said Shaw. “Adler insists on pushing on tomorrow morning. I heard one of his men mention dynamite. I think they intend to seal the mouth to the cavern once they have what th
ey came for. If we don’t end up with a bullet in the back of our heads, I suspect the cave will become our tomb. Neither prospect is very inviting, so when I get the chance, I’m going to try to kill Adler and take charge. I bet his people are ready to turn around; they’re just too scared to say or do anything.”

  “Aye, you could be right,” said Bruce. “But be careful, he’s a tough looking son of a bitch.”

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” said Shaw philosophically.

  Amrit said, “Well whatever happens, let’s just hope that Adler never gets his hands on that power source. The thought of the Nazis having a bomb that could help them win the war is a frightening one.”

  “Amen,” said Shaw as he slipped off his frozen boots and wriggled his toes, trying to get the circulation flowing through them once more. He looked over at his friends, and suddenly felt a pang of guilt. They were here because of him, and now they were facing a horrible death at the hands of the creatures blocking their way off the mountain. With a resolve born of desperation, Shaw vowed that he wouldn’t fail and that somehow, he and his friends were going to come out of this alive. He wasn’t sure how he was going to pull it off, only that he would, no matter the cost.

  Chapter 23

  Mount Naraka

  Shaw sat up in the frost-covered tent and blinked his eyes a couple of times to bring them into focus. When he turned his head, Shaw saw Bruce sitting there looking at him with a slight grin on his stubble-covered chin. Unlike Shaw who was sporting a full beard, Bruce’s facial hair had grown in blotches of red across his slender face. Shaw took a breath and felt something odd. He reached up and to his surprise, discovered that he was wearing an oxygen mask. As he pulled it away from his face, he realized that he felt fine; in fact, he felt more than fine; he felt well rested and fit.

  “Amrit thought you could use it,” said Bruce as he pointed to the canister of oxygen lying beside Shaw. “You were coughing something awful in your sleep, so I got a fresh bottle and put the mask on you.”