Gwen pointed to the clearing. “I know where we are,” she said. “This is a lookout or something. We stopped here for breakfast on that senior exercise.”
Peter experienced a series of vivid flashbacks and nodded. “It is the bottom of a walking track,” he corrected. As soon as he saw the sign he changed his plan and he crossed to the right of the road and hurried on up to the clearing.
The flat area was a parking area. A sign proclaimed: ROBSONS TRACK
“Up there,” Peter gasped, pointing up the dirt foot track which went steeply up the ridge through open timber.
“Where does it go?” Joy asked.
“It is a walking track that follows one of the old pioneer pack trails,” Peter replied. “They used it in the nineteenth century before proper roads were built to get from Cairns to the Tablelands.”
“Is this the track you mentioned earlier, the one that leads up to the Gillies Lookout?” Sir Miles asked.
Peter nodded. “Yes. It goes up to the top of the mountain and left along the crest to the Lookout,” he replied. Without waiting he led the way to the end of the track and started up it, casting frequent glances back along the highway.
Sir Miles stopped and looked back. “How long will it take? Is it far?” he asked.
Peter took several deep breaths and went to answer but Gwen did instead. “It will take a couple of hours if we push it,” she answered.
“That may be too late,” Sir Miles replied in a grim tone.
“Too bad!” Peter cried. “We can’t do any better. Now, let’s get away from here before those men catch up.”
He now led them up the foot trail, walking and climbing as fast as he could. The others followed, panting and gasping and sweating but obviously driven by fear. The track led up a short section of steps and past a bronze plaque commemorating the early pioneers, then wound back and forth up the spur in short, steep zig zags. At one of these they were granted a clear view back down the Highway for a hundred metres.
Peter at once made a decision. “Keep going. I am staying here to act as rearguard. If those Devil Worshippers come up after us I will be able to warn them off,” he said.
Or ambush them properly, he thought.
Joy wanted to argue but Peter stepped off the track and pushed her past. Gwen nodded and Sir Miles met his eyes and gave a brief smile. “Don’t stay long, and don’t get cut off,” he cautioned.
Peter nodded. “I’ll be right. Keep going, a steady plod. I will catch you up. Go!”
Stephen paused and said: “I will pick a spot another hundred metres up the track to give you cover if you have to pull back in a hurry.”
“Thanks mate. I will only wait five minutes, then follow you,” Peter replied.
As the others plodded on up the narrow sandy track Peter found a good spot behind some rocks where he could see back down to the Highway and car park.
This is a good place. If I can force them over the side of the highway they will have a real problem to get back across and then to catch us up, he reasoned.
He settled under cover, wiped sweat from his eyes, then took out his water bottle and had a big drink. As he replaced the bottle in his webbing he felt his pulse. It was still above normal but slowing. A glance at his watch showed him it was 11:45 and that he had already waited three minutes.
A movement back near the bend in the Highway caught his eye. He stared at the place but could not be sure. Was it a person or not? A minute went by. Peter scanned the ridge below him, then checked his watch. Five minutes- time to go. He wanted to stay longer but disciplined himself to move.
But just as he stood up he glimpsed movement and paused. Into view came two men in black. They were hurrying along the side of the highway beside the steep drop and both had guns. Peter leaned on a tree to steady his hands and then aimed the pistol at the middle of the bitumen beside the first man. He had no desire to shoot anyone, and quailed at the thought of killing another human.
I will just warn them, he told himself.
Blat!
The bullet struck the road and the men gaped and then vanished over the side. Peter smiled grimly and then nodded.
Now they will have to try to climb along that really steep slope and then find somewhere out of sight of here to cross, he thought. That should win us ten or fifteen minutes.
As quickly as he could Peter walked on up the trail. This led along the side of the mountain through medium timber. The undergrowth was short grass and scattered grass trees. Numerous clumps of rock protruded from the thin layer of soil on the steep slope.
Stephen was crouched behind a boulder at a bend in the track. As Peter arrived he stood up. “What was the shot?” he asked.
“Just me firing a warning shot,” Peter explained. “Two men. They are both down on the side of the mountain on the other side of the highway.”
“Then they will be a bit edgy about catching us up,” Stephen commented as he turned and followed.
Peter nodded and felt sure his tactic had been a good one. I wouldn’t be very keen chasing people with guns along a track through the bush, he thought.
The pair puffed their way up the slope. The track switched back and forth, in places splitting into several tracks where trail bikes had eroded the hillside. Both cadets kept glancing back down the slope for signs of pursuit.
After ten minutes they caught up with Sir Miles and the two girls. They were resting to recover their breath at a place where the track went in under some boulders.
Stephen looked around approvingly. “Good ambush spot this,” he said. “I might wait here for a bit.”
Peter shook his head. “No, keep going. There are plenty of other places like this,” he replied.
Joy greeted him with a relieved smile. “They have been on the radio again Peter, but in code.”
“OK, I’ll decode. It might tell us what is going on,” Peter replied. He urged them to keep walking and took out his notebook.
The message again made his stomach churn with fear. He read it out to the others when they halted again for a breather.
“Bad news I’m afraid. It is from Six Five Six to the Black Monk and says that we have gone up Robsons Track.”
“They saw us then?” Joy commented.
“Obviously. I shot at them,” Peter replied. “Right, let’s keep moving. They are sure to be following.”
The group resumed walking as fast as they could but had to stop every hundred paces or so to get their breath back and to allow their hearts to slow down. That they were being followed was then confirmed by another coded message, this time from the Black Monk to Six Five Six. Peter decoded it and again bit his lip.
“They are after us alright,” he told the red, perspiring and panting faces watching him. “It says: Follow up track on foot. Am going on ahead to next objective with knight and Six One Four. Switch to Frequency 64 and use Code Echo from now on.”
Gwen frowned. “That means that we won’t be able to decode their signals,” she said.
Peter nodded. He had another drink, pocketed his notebook and started walking again. Inside he churned with fear knowing they were now engaged in a life or death race.
As they plodded gasping up the steep track a miserable looking Gwen met Peter’s eye. “Sorry about dropping the phone,” she said.
Peter shrugged. “I pushed you so it’s my fault,” he replied.
Joy spoke up. “Just as well you did Peter or Gwen would have been hit by that vehicle.”
Gwen bit her lip and nodded. She was visibly trembling. “I know. Thank you. But I feel I have let everyone down. Now we are right out of communication.”
“Forget it,” Peter replied. “Besides, Graham and Megan should be down near Little Mulgrave by now.”
Stephen, who was panting along at the rear, came to a gasping halt and leaned on a tree. “Graham will have run all the way. It is Megan who will be slowing them down,” he said.
“I hope they are safe,” Gwen puffed in reply.
&n
bsp; “Slow down,” Peter called. “This is a tortoise and hare operation. If you push yourself too fast you will exhaust yourself.”
“Or have a bloody heart attack!” Stephen added.
“You are right,” Peter agreed. “When you walk up a mountain you should be able to carry out a normal conversation or you are pushing yourself to a dangerous level.”
“But we must go fast to get to the top before the Devil Worshippers,” Sir Miles said, clearly concerned.
“So what is this quest that you are on? What makes it so important that people get killed for it?” Gwen asked.
“Gwen! It’s none of our business,” Joy scolded.
Sir Miles shook his head. “I think it is now. You are all helping me and that has placed you in deadly peril. You have earned the right to know why.”
“So what is it all about?” Peter asked.
Chapter 19
SATAN STRIKES
Sir Miles nodded. “A drink first please,” he asked.
Gwen passed him one of her water bottles. Peter had a drink as well and was concerned to note that he had already drunk two water bottles since they had left the river and that he was now half way through his third. He also noted that it was very hot and the sky remained clear.
When Sir Miles finished drinking he indicated they should continue climbing. “I will explain as we go,” he said.
They resumed their upward slog, Gwen leading, then Sir Miles, Joy and Peter, with Stephen as rearguard, pistol at the ready.
Puffing with exertion Sir Miles began. “First of all you appreciate that I am a member of a Holy Order of the Catholic Church,” he said.
“Yes, but what exactly does that mean?” Gwen asked.
“There are organizations within the church set up to do particular tasks. The members swear special oaths and dedicate themselves to that mission in life,” Sir Miles explained. “You have probably heard of such Orders as the Jesuits, the Franciscans and the Benedictines?”
The cadets all nodded, although Peter had only a vague idea of what these groups actually did. Sir Miles went on: “The Holy Orders mostly developed during the Middle Ages, a thousand years ago. Some were teaching Orders, others cared for the sick and some kept themselves isolated in meditation. All have basically the same rules. These generally involve three vows; a vow being a sacred promise to God. These vows are: Obedience, Poverty and Chastity.”
Gwen glanced back. “Be no good to you Stephen,” she commented. “The chastity bit I mean.”
Stephen snorted. “Thanks very much!” he replied, but then he grinned.
Sir Miles frowned but went on: “During the period known as the Crusades a number of so-called Military Orders developed, to meet the needs of upholding Christian interests against the rising power of the Moslems. The members of the Military Orders were both monks and soldiers at the same time. They could fight in battle as well as carrying out religious work.”
“A bit of a contradiction that isn’t it?” Gwen commented. “I mean, didn’t Jesus say love your enemies and turn the other cheek and all that?”
Sir Miles shrugged. “Maybe. But equally there are times when to stand by and do nothing is also bad. Often life is not a choice between good and evil but between two evils. We can debate it later if you like. Anyway, the most famous of these Military Orders were the Knights Hospitallers, also called The Knights of St John of Jerusalem. There were also the Knights of the Sacred Temple or Knights Templars. The Templars were formed by a band of French Knights in 1119 to protect pilgrims going to the Holy Places in Jerusalem. Later they were disbanded for heresy and pagan activities such as Black Magic, Devil Worship and other evil practices.”
“Is that who these Devil Worshippers are?” Joy asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” Sir Miles replied. He then continued: “The Military Order I am sure you are familiar with is the Knights of St John of Jerusalem or Hospitallers. They were formed in the 12th Century to help protect pilgrims in the Holy Land, and to care for the sick and injured. They became the first group to run an ambulance service and to run proper hospitals. After the Crusades they were forced out of Palestine by the Moslems. For many years they held the island of Rhodes. After being forced out of there they took over the island of Malta.”
Sir Miles glanced back to check that he had their attention and then went on: “In 1798 the French, led by Napoleon Bonaparte, captured Malta and took it off the Knights. The Order survived but changed its character to become merely a medical Order called the St John Ambulance.”
Joy gave a grunt and a gasp as she stepped up onto another rock. “Oh, I’ve done a First Aid course with them,” she said.
“That’s right. So they still exist,” Sir Miles said.
Peter had been listening with fascination as he puffed along behind Joy. “I’ve got a St John Ambulance First Aid Certificate. It’s in my pocket book now.”
Gwen looked back. “So have I,” she added.
Sir Miles called a halt to get his breath back and to have another drink. He was sweating badly and was very red in the face. Peter scanned the track and hillside below him, then pointed. “There is the Highway.”
“There are cars moving along it,” Gwen observed.
Joy looked. “The Devil Worshippers must have removed their road blocks then,” she commented.
Gwen nodded. “With a bit of luck someone will have complained about it to the police by now,” she answered.
Peter glanced at his watch. 12:15. “The police should know by now anyway. Graham and Megan should be at Little Mulgrave by this.”
“What if they got caught?” Joy asked.
Peter shook his head. “I don’t think they were. Those two following us up the mountain did not turn off, and there were no radio reports.”
“What if there are more Devil Worshippers than we think?” Gwen asked.
Peter again shook his head. “There may be, but I don’t think they are in this area.”
Stephen, who had been crouched behind a rock facing back down the track, turned his head. “If only two are following us why don’t we hide and ambush them?” he suggested.
Peter again shook his head: “No. We don’t want to risk a gun battle. If we had a casualty we would be right up the creek. And I don’t want to have to shoot anyone.”
Sir Miles agreed. “You are right. They are more likely to call your bluff and shoot. Then we would have to shoot to kill. You don’t need that on your conscience for the rest of your life. Let us keep moving to stay ahead of them.”
“Oh! I hope they aren’t fitter than us,” Joy wailed as they resumed walking.
Gwen gave short snort. “That wouldn’t be hard!” she answered.
The group resumed its upwards slog. After a while Peter again called to Sir Miles: “Sir Miles, you still haven’t told us what your quest is.”
“No, sorry. I got sidetracked explaining Holy Orders. Well, my own Order, the Knights of the Holy Grail, is a secret Order. We were formed in the 13th century with the specific role of locating the Holy Grail, the chalice or cup used by Jesus at the Last Supper. You may be aware that finding the Holy Grail was a major goal of many medieval knights.”
Gwen nodded. “I’ve read about it in the stories about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table,” she answered.
Stephen chuckled. “And I saw that beaut movie: ‘Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade’. They found the Holy Grail,” he called.
“Yes, well,” Sir Miles replied dryly. “Well, as you may guess, we have not yet found the Holy Grail, although we still search for it. Over the years the Pope used us for other searches and quests. Now we are used for special missions involving great risk. We are still a Military Order and all have taken vows of obedience, poverty and chastity.”
“Are there many of you?” Gwen asked.
“I am not at liberty to say. That is a secret. What I will tell you is that all of us are university educated and we have all served in the Special Forces of our respe
ctive countries, such as the SAS or Commandos. We are trained to use all types of weapons and equipment and are supposed to be very fit, although this mountain is finding me out!”
They managed a feeble laugh at that. Peter wiped sweat from his face and looked back for signs of pursuit. The sheer physical effort of climbing the track had taken the edge off his feelings of fear. The effort required to keep picking his feet up to climb the slope made him compare the experience with a nightmare.
One of those where you want to run but can’t seem to get your legs to work properly.
Sir Miles continued: “We usually wear civilian clothes. At times we are used as bodyguards for important members of the church hierarchy when they visit dangerous countries.”
They rounded another bend and the track switched back to the right. In places Peter could see signs of the trail once having been a bench-cut road and he found his attention wandering to contemplate what sort of effort it must have taken to urge a bullock team up such a slope. There were also old iron telegraph posts beside the track.
Sir Miles recovered his breath after another steep section and resumed his story: “So you must be very curious why the Pope in Rome has sent two knights to North Queensland.”
“To fight the Devil Worshippers?” Joy suggested.
“No. We did not even know they were here, although we do fight them whenever we find them. They are our ancient enemies,” Sir Miles replied. “No, we came here to find one of the Dead Sea Scrolls.”
“The Dead Sea what?” Joy asked.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls. These are famous documents written on scrolls. A Scroll is a roll of paper, parchment or leather. These particular scrolls were written at the time of Christ and in the 1st Century AD. They were found in caves in the desert beside the Dead Sea in 1947 and have been proved to be authentic. Thus they are direct, and independent proof that Jesus lived, and corroboration of the Christian Gospels of the New Testament.”
The Word of God Page 23