Chapter 14
Jack awoke to the feeling of something warm and sticky running down the back of his neck. A loud droning sound rattled his brain like a rock shaker. He opened his eyes and, once the room stopped spinning, he realized he was in the freight compartment of a cargo plane. His head spinning, Jack realized that the airplane was moving, bouncing roughly, and accelerating. The plane was lifting off.
Jack needed to move quickly but his hands were secured behind his back. Flexing his wrists he sensed that he was bound by a rope of small diameter. Flex, relax, flex, relax. This repetitive motion stretched the rope fibers enough so that, with great effort, he was able to slip one hand free. He set to work untying his ankles and was completely free in a matter of moments. Unfortunately the plane was now airborne. To make matters worse the copilot had spotted him and was rising from his seat in the cockpit and unsnapping the button on the leather holster at his hip. Jack noticed also that the man wore a parachute strapped to his back. The copilot leveled his revolver at Jack but before he could fire Jack dove behind a large crate.
Jack waited, his head swimming and pounding in unison with his heart beat which had accelerated when the pilot drew his weapon. Jack had only seconds to come up with a plan of defense. He would be exposed the second the copilot came into view with nowhere to run or hide. Searching around him for some kind of a weapon he realized he was leaning against the cargo bay door of the AS 6 Envoy. Working the doors latch he pushed the door open, grabbed hold of the door frame and stepped out of the plane.
The copilot instinctively ran to the hatch to peer out expecting to see his prisoner spinning toward the ground below. Instead he was surprised when a leather boot landed square in his chest. Jack had stepped out onto the wing of the plane. The pilot fell backwards taking a wild shot in Jack’s direction. The bullet went wide punching a hole in the fuselage. Jack was on the man in a second throwing a hard left into the copilot’s solar plexus and knocking the gun from his hand. The pilot countered with a blow to Jack’s already spinning head which caused an explosion of bright white stars to appear before Jack’s eyes.
About to lose consciousness Jack reached around the man’s waist and held him in a clench. The copilot pummeled Jack’s kidneys with two vicious blows dropping him to his knees. Jack took immediate advantage of this position and punched the man square in the groin. The pilot doubled over in pain exposing his neck and chin. Jack landed a solid right to the brachial nerve causing his opponent to go limp crumpling to the floor.
Looking toward the cockpit he could now see the remaining pilot turned awkwardly in his seat, pistol drawn and trying to get a bead on Jack. Pulling at the limp body of the copilot Jack wrestled off the parachute, strapped it on his back and dove toward the open door as three rapid gunshots reverberated over the rushing air and engine noise. Two passed by harmlessly however one of the bullets caught Jack in the left forearm, striking with enough force to propel his body into the door frame. Jack’s right shoulder struck the frame sending him spinning as he exited the air craft. His head, still foggy and reeling from multiple impacts, flickered in and out of consciousness as his body plummeted toward the fast approaching earth. During a brief interval of awareness he managed to pull the rip-chord. His chute unfurled, catching the air like a giant ice cream scoop, snapping Jack’s now limp body from a dive to a heads up vertical position only thirty feet from the ground. He landed with a sickening thud.
Something crawling into his nostril caused him to awaken with a start. Jack’s head twitched involuntarily as he reached for his nose and sat violently upright. That sudden motion caused him agonizing pain of such intensity that he vomited.
Looking at his surroundings he could see that he had landed in a small ravine among thick bushes and had then rolled or slid down an embankment coming to rest at the bottom. The sun was low in the sky. Lying back on the ground he allowed the waves of nausea to pass over and attempted to focus on staying conscious. He was unsuccessful.
He next opened his eyes to a hazy, misty world resounding with the cacophony of the jungle morning. This time he made a focused effort to move slowly to a sitting position.
So far so good. Jack ran a mental check of his body finding pain in his left arm and the back of his head. Touching his head he felt dry caked blood, a good sign that he was not actively bleeding. He felt the silk parachute under his body and ripped a few strips into bandages applying one to his left arm and tying the other around his head.
Jack had seen enough head injuries to know that he was in no shape to walk but, he had no choice, he had to get back to free Sophie and to warn Jolly. He attempted to recollect as best he could what direction Planaltina lay in and then headed in that direction.
As he plodded along he began to put together what had happened. One of Fat Charlie’s men had bashed him in the head from behind. They had then taken him to the plane Charlie had arranged for their escape. Why Charlie had not killed him? Jack could only guess that the man felt honor bound by some unwritten criminal code to fulfill his promise. That one benevolent act by the conniving fat man would stay Jack’s hand but, if Sophie was harmed in any way, the plump liar would find Jack’s hands around his throat.
It was dark by the time he made it to the edge of the city. Using the shadows to move undetected he made his way to the saloon where, he hoped Jolly had not arrived yet and, where he knew Charlie was holding Sophie. As he approached the building from the opposite side of the dirt street he paused to reconnoiter. What he saw sent a chill down his spine. Two uniformed Nazi guards stood on the wooden sidewalk sharing cigarettes with three of Fat Charlie’s men.
Finding an inconspicuous place to cross he moved cautiously toward the rear of the saloon where he climbed up to a window on the second floor. Now inside he moved to the top of a dark stairway that overlooked the bar below. He was behind and to the left of Fat Charlie’s chair. He could see and hear the filthy pig talking to a group of men seated at a table ten feet in front of him.
Jack recognized that these were the men who had been missing from the Nazi camp and behind them stood the six tall, blonde, black clad, Waffen-SS German troopers. Fat Charlie was attempting his usual tactics of charm and flattery to garner information from the men. Grissop was nowhere to be seen.
“The medicine and the stores you require can be arranged as soon as I receive your payment.” Charlie was saying. “You can send your men to fetch the rest of your party, in the morning. They also are welcomed here as long as is required to recuperate.”
“Thank you Mr. Hamilton, you are most gracious.” Venoma responded.
“I am sorry however that you missed your friends, the three seemed very anxious to leave this morning and you only missed their flight by a few hours.” Charlie lied.
“No matter, we will simply proceed without their company.”
“May I ask what your purpose is here in our country?”
“We are searching for our lost countrymen.” Major Schmidt offered.
“Ah, a rescue mission! How noble!” Charlie mocked. “Unfortunately if any of your colonist still survived I would know of it and, I am sad to say, they are all long dead.”
“That may be true. I think though that we will continue our search.” Schmidt said.
“Then I insist that you allow me to assist you in your endeavor. I will send my men along with you as protectors and guides.” Charlie said.
“No, that will not be necessary, Thank you.” Colonel Wolfgang snapped.
“But I must insist Colonel. No business is conducted in this region unless I have a share in it. I will be most disappointed if I am not allowed a share of the rewards when you find that which you seek.”
A sudden commotion arose outside of the saloon. The doors burst open and three German soldiers pushed their way into the bar. Between two of them a bruised and bloodied Professor DeWulf was dragged forward and tossed on the floor in front of Colonel Wolfgang. Schmidt stood up demanding an explanation.
“Major, the camp was invaded last night.” One of the soldiers began. “Two guards were killed and this man escaped. We were able to pursue the attackers and overtake them. We killed one however the other escaped on horseback.”
Jack felt every muscle in his body involuntarily go rigid.
“Are you positive he is dead?” Colonel Wolfgang demanded.
“I shot him twice myself as he ran away. His body washed over a waterfall to shallow water and rocks below. It is impossible that he survived.”
Jack felt an oppressive weight bearing down on his chest.
“What did this man look like sergeant?” Schmidt asked.
“He was a big man Major, with red hair.”
Jack could find no air in the room, his breath would not come and his skin grew cold.
“Joley!” Schmidt said satisfactorily.
Jack felt heat flush into his face, his grinding teeth echoed in his skull, his breath came instantly fast and heavy, warm brackish fluid flooded his eyes, he felt a roar of misery and torment building in his chest about to erupt in an explosion of agony.
“But that means Cage escaped. What about the woman? Did you see a woman with these men?” Wolfgang asked.
Jack was hauled out of the vortex of his anguish and heartache by this intimation of his sweet Sophie.
“No Colonel! There was no woman.” The soldier assured him.
“You said these men had flown back to Rio de Janeiro Mr. Hamilton.” Klaus Wolfgang spoke in a menacing and accusatory tone. Fat Charlie did not respond knowing that any further lies were pointless.
“Where is the woman Mr. Hamilton?” Venoma asked pointedly.
“She is… safe.” Charlie replied smugly.
Jack’s heart slowed its breakneck pace at hearing that she was safe. Jolly was dead. Jack must, for now, fix his attention on Sophie’s rescue, mourning Jolly’s death would have to wait.
“You have not been forthright Mr. Hamilton.” Venoma stated coldly.
“I have simply followed your lead Herr Venoma. Surely though we can put this mutual distrust behind us and work toward a common goal. Tell me what it is you are seeking that requires a noted physicist and enough weaponry to invade a small country.”
“And what shall you offer in return Mr. Hamilton?”
“I will allow you to leave this room alive.” Charlie became dark and malicious. Tension in the room mounted, weapons were drawn and readied. Leaning forward in his seat Charlie asked. “Why are you here?”
“Gold Mr. Hamilton. We are searching for Gold.” Venoma said flatly.
A hush fell upon the room so still that Jack could hear the professor whimpering on the floor thirty feet away. Fat Charlie chuckled, a maniacal thing that rose to a side splitting uproar that he and all his men shared in.
“Gold? What makes you think there is Gold in the Mato Grosso?” Fat Charlie’s cheeks and great belly convulsed as his raucous laughter faded to a manageable giggle.
Venoma did not reply, he simply reached into his vest, drew forth the Gold Disk and laid it on the table in front of him. Complete silence engulfed the room once more.
“Where?” This was the only word Fat Charlie could choke out.
“Perhaps an expression of your good will would help to relax our mutual distrust, something to give your position some equity.” Venoma said.
“What do you suggest?” Charlie’s eyes never left the object resting on the table ten feet away.
“The professor has not been as cooperative as we had hoped.” Venoma replied. “Perhaps if he were to see his daughter he would be more inclined to assist us.”
“Get her!” Charlie snapped while not taking his eyes from the disk.
Jack was overwrought and restless. He realized that he was shaking and cold.
A door slammed somewhere behind Charlie and an enraged voice warned, “Take your hands off of me!”
Sophie DeWulf broke free from the two Indian’s that held her and dashed across the room to her father’s side. After a long embrace she helped the poor man to a chair and assessed his injuries. She glared ferociously at the three Nazi’s seated nearby. Standing she rushed toward them like a predator after her prey. Colonel Wolfgang stood abruptly and caught her arm as it swung toward his head. Pushing her away, she realized the futility of her attack and returned to her father’s side.
“Bring me the disk!” Charlie demanded of Venoma.
Venoma rose from his seat, disk in hand, and approached Fat Charlie who sat eyeing the gleaming artifact greedily.
“Beautiful is it not Mr. Hamilton?” Venoma said, holding the disk in front of Charlie, just out of his reach, turning it so that the light glinted off the shiny metal. Charlie’s men, around six of them, moved closer to get a better look at the object.
“I would gladly give it to you if you could help me gain what I truly seek.” Venoma spoke in a low, mesmerizing voice.
“I see clearly now however that you do not possess either the capability or the competence to facilitate me, unfortunately, and you have proven by your attempt at subterfuge, that you are a charlatan and thus never to be trusted. You attempted to deceive me Mr. Hamilton, and for that, there will be no bargain between us.” Venoma returned the Disk to his pocket.
Fat Charlie had been entranced by the gleaming gold disc. As it disappeared his eyes now focused on the pale little man now standing quite close.
“You have also threatened my life, and for that you will die.”
In one fluid motion, Venoma kicked the table from in front of Charlie sending it rocketing toward the henchmen that had approached. He then produced a long knife from some hidden sheath in his clothing. In a broad sweeping arc he swung the knife, at arms-length, through the air and down across the big man’s huge protruding belly. Instantly a crimson red line appeared across the yellow food stained vest. Instinctively Charlie reached up with both hands to cover the wound in an attempt to stem the flow of blood, his eyes bulging with bewilderment at the unexpected attack.
Charlie’s men looked on in disbelief, petrified by the grizzly attack. A staccato of automatic weapon fire erupted from the German Waffen-SS terminating their torpid pose. The six men attempted to run and aim their weapons but failed, falling dead to the floor. Three gunshots erupted from the direction of the front door. The guards Charlie had stationed outside had entered at the sound of gunfire and were firing upon the Germans. Two of the tall Waffen-SS troopers fell to the ground before the Nazis dispatched the gunmen. Silence returned to the room.
Charlie sat in front of Venoma, who had never taken his eyes off his victim. Fat Charlie’s vest, shirt, and trousers were now soaked with bright red blood. Fat Charlie stared in horror at his bulging paunch. As he removed his hands from his belly, a ripping sound could be heard and Fat Charlie’s abdomen opened along the gory wound, his intestines spilling out on the floor at his feet. Charlie Hamilton screamed out in terror.
“Sophie, help me!” He begged the woman laying on the floor near him shielding her father..
“Dr. DeWulf can do nothing for you Mr. Hamilton.” Venoma had placed a chair in front of the eviscerated man and was now sitting, watching him die.
Sophie and the professor were still on the floor when the gunfire had erupted. Jack had watched as she had laid her body across her fathers to protect him. Both now appeared uninjured. All of Charlie’s men were dead or dying. Colonel Wolfgang put a bullet in the heads of the dying with his Ruger pistol. Two of the Wolsatz soldiers were also dead. Schmidt was coming out from behind the bar where he had taken refuge.
“We must leave Herr Venoma, more of his people will be coming.” Wolfgang spoke to Venoma who was still sitting, trance like and mesmerized, in front of Fat Charlie.
Jack watched as the remaining four Wolfsatz seized Sophie and the professor and pushed them toward the door. Sophie made an unsuccessful attempt to fight them resulting in her hands being tied behind her back. Jack’s entire body trembled with anger and fear. Frantic over his pr
edicament he could only watch helplessly as she was harshly tied and man handled by the brutes.
Attempting to stand he nearly lost consciousness. Leaning heavily against the walls he made his way to a room at the front of the building where he could look down into the street below. He watched the aNazi’s leaving and saw additional German soldiers appearing from the North end of the street accompanied by Grissop, Ferguson and West. The two groups merged, spoke briefly and then hastily moved back up the street toward the edge of town. Jack knew they were going back to retrieve the remainder of their party. He had to find the strength to follow them. If he could make it to where he had left his horse he might be able to tail them.
Jack made his way back to the top of the steps where, breaking out in a cold sweat, and again nearly passing out, he tumbled down the last five or six steps. Slowly he got back to his feet and moved across the open room by staggering from table to table.
“Jack, help me!” Dizzy and weak Jack turned toward the voice. Fat Charlie was still alive, sitting in the chair, blood now covering his chin and neck. Charlie coughed as he tried to speak, spattering droplets of dark blood on his cheeks and collar.
“Help me Jack, please?” He begged in a weak almost inaudible voice.
Jack stared back at the man who had betrayed him. “Sure Charlie. I’ll help you.”
Picking up a revolver from the floor lying next to one of the dead henchmen he approached Charlie Hamilton. Jack pulled back the hammer, leveled the weapon, aimed between Charlie’s eyes and said, “This is for Jolly!” He pulled the trigger.
The gun fell from Jack’s hand. The room was getting dark around the edges as he attempted to walk toward the front door. He heard voices shouting in the street outside, more of Charlie’s men no doubt. The front doors burst open and Jack stood ten feet from a dozen bewildered thugs. Their eyes searched the room assessing the carnage. Upon seeing their dead companions and their dead employer the twelve sets of eyes focused on Jack, the dazed and confounded looks changing to animus and rage. Adrenaline flooded Jack’s blood stream, the twelve men moved to surround him, he raised his fists preparing for a fight and promptly… passed out.
Chasing El Dorado Page 14