Emerald Death (17 page)

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Authors: Bill Craig

BOOK: Emerald Death
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            “You mean you read about this zeppelin in some magazine article?  One of the Nazi’s best kept secrets?” Gregor asked, amazed as they reached the hatch and Bridget threw it open.

            “You would be surprised at the information available in the latest scientific journals devoted to the subject,” Bridget replied, stepping into the hold.  Her eyes swept the room, searching for something specific.

            “Amazing,” Shotsky replied, shaking his head.  Just then their luck ran out and a loud voice shouted at them from the other end of the corridor.

            “HALT!” shouted the voice.

            “Hannigan’s luck is sure rubbing off!” Gregor growled spinning as he tensioned the machinegun against the sling, his fingers flipping off the safety and squeezing the trigger in one quick motion. 

The MP-36 in his fists roared a stuttered burst as he worked the trigger, going for three and four shot semi-auto bursts.  He knew he only had a finite amount of ammunition and he planned on conserving it as long as he could.  The man at the end of the corridor went down in a bloody heap but now everyone aboard would know that they were free.

            “Here we go!” Bridget called, shoving open a panel to reveal the outside. 

            “Okay, you found a hatch.  We’re still a hundred yards or better off the ground,” Gregor growled, firing at two more of the Nazis that had entered the corridor.  So far they were withholding from firing back, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t going to last.

            “That’s what this is for,” Bridget replied kicking a huge coil of rope out the hatch and watching as it uncoiled while falling towards the ground.

            “You are insane!” Gregor snapped, firing the MP-36 again.

            “Got a better idea?” Bridget asked.  She had found a blanket and wrapped it around her hands.  She flashed him a smile then disappeared out the hatch, sliding down the rope towards the jungle below.

            “God save me from crazy people!” Gregor growled as he quickly wrapped several layers of cloth around his own hands and swung out the hatch, catching the rope and letting gravity do its thing.

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Mike Hannigan looked on in shock as Bridget and Gregor dived out of the bottom of the gondola below the zeppelin.  “Okay, change of plans!” he snapped as he ran out into the clearing.

Bridget and Gregor were sliding down ropes and he could see smoke streaming out around their hands.  He hoped they were protected or their skin would be filleted through by the ropes from the friction.

            Hannigan leveled the MAS 36 he had brought from the wreckage of the plane and fired at the zeppelin, at the men hanging out the hatch firing at Bridget and Gregor.  He was rewarded by a body tumbling out the hatch and plummeting towards the ground, quickly passing the pair since it was free falling.  The dead Nazi splashed into the earth with a wet thud.

            Bridget dropped to the ground and rolled away from the bottom of the rope.  Gregor hit seconds behind her.  “Run for the trees!” Hannigan screamed at them both.  They scrambled across the ground, heading for the undergrowth.  Hannigan fired a few more rounds and ran after them, McKenzie trailing along behind him.

            “Good work, you two,” Hannigan told them.

            “Thanks, Hardluck,” Bridget grinned.

            “Your Hardluck seems to be rubbing off, Michael,” Shotsky told him as they gained the cover of the trees.

            “It happens, pal,” Hannigan grinned.

            “So it does.  Michael, your father was a companion of Niles McKenzie and Captain Hawkins.  Were you aware of this?” Gregor asked as they moved deeper into the jungle.

            “I knew that he knew Hawkins,” Hannigan replied grimly.

            “McKenzie was one of Hawkins’ most trusted companions during the Great War,” Gregor explained.

            “Interesting,” Hannigan replied.  He didn’t really like talking about his father.  As much as he loved and respected him, Wild Bill Hannigan had thought he should remain in Greensboro, Indiana, a small town farm boy.  Hannigan had known that remaining in Indiana had not been his destiny, however.

            “You’re Wild Bill’s boy?” McKenzie asked suddenly from behind them.

            “Eavesdropping, Padre?” Hannigan asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Not at all,” McKenzie replied.

                                    *****

 

            “What is happening?” Wessel demanded, running down the corridor to the cargo bay.

            “The prisoners are escaping!” one of his men shouted back.

            “Stop them!” Wessel ordered.

            “We’ve lost two men already, and the prisoners have already made it into the jungle,” one of his men replied.

            “Go after them!  Now!  All available personnel after the prisoners,” Wessel commanded.

            “I will lead them,” hissed a voice from behind him.  Wessel spun around only to find Ragnarok filling the doorway.  No longer was he bent and pitiful.  Ragnarok was once more standing tall and brimming with strength.  Wessel was puzzled.  What could have brought about such a change so quickly?

            “Never underestimate my power, Captain.  We are close to the Emerald of Eternity.  Our goals are almost achieved.  The only man who might possibly stop me is now ahead of us.  Lower this ship so we can catch them.  The airship is no longer of any use,” Ragnarok announced firmly.

            “As you wish, Herr Doktor,” Wessel replied, maintaining his stance.  He brushed past the ancient wizard and headed for the control center.  Wessel was aware of Ragnarok’s laughter following him.

 

                                    *****

 

            “How far to this lost city, Padre?” Hannigan asked coldly.  He was angry at McKenzie, but he wasn’t about to let the man know how angry he was.  Not with the Nazis on their tail.  Hannigan still didn’t trust McKenzie not to betray them all at some point.

            “Not far.  In fact, we already have an escort,” McKenzie said quietly. 

            “What?” Hannigan asked, surprised by the comment.  Suddenly men in ancient armor were stepping out of the underbrush.  Hannigan counted at least twenty.  He and Gregor might be able to take out several of them, but not before they finally fell under the blades of the swords and spears that the men carried.

            “Part of the army of Prester John,” McKenzie replied.  One of the men picked that moment to step forward and bark a command at them in a language that Hannigan couldn’t understand.  McKenzie rattled off some sort of reply, gesturing behind them.

            “It’s ancient Latin, Hannigan,” Bridget explained, looking a little awestruck.

            “Can you understand what they are saying?” Hannigan whispered.

            “Yes.  Dad is telling them about the Nazis and that Horrible Doctor Ragnarok,” Bridget whispered.

Suddenly the man McKenzie was speaking with straightened.  He motioned for them all to follow him as he began to trot off down a well-worn jungle path.  “He told them Ragnarok is after the gemstone,” Bridget said grimly.

            “What did he tell them about us?” Hannigan asked, falling into a trot.

            “Not much,” Bridget replied, trotting beside him.

            “Specifics, Bridget,” Hannigan demanded, noting her sudden evasiveness.

            “He told them that you and Gregor are also after the stone, and that he and I have come to help protect it,” Bridget almost choked on the words.

            “I knew he wasn’t playing it straight,” Hannigan growled, his face darkening.

            “Mike, what are you going to do?” Bridget asked, worry tingeing her words.

            “You’ll know when the time comes,” Hannigan replied.

            “Hannigan,” Bridget began, but Hannigan was pulling ahead of her.  She found herself wondering if she had not just lost him because of her father.

                                    *****

 

            Stepping onto the jungle floor, Ragnarok could feel the power of the Emerald of Eternity pulsing through the very earth itself.  The closer he came to it, the more strength he drew from the gemstone.  His power was growing as he drew nearer.  Niles McKenzie was not far ahead of his group.  When he caught up to McKenzie, he would have his revenge!”

 

                                   *****

 

            Hans Wessel watched as Ragnarok disappeared into the jungle with two full squads of his men.  The wizard thought that the Valkyrie was out of the action.  He was about to find out how wrong he was. Wessel turned to his second in command, Heinrich Dieter.  “Send out Alpha Squad.  Acquire the emerald and kill Ragnarok.  Call us when you have the stone and we will drop in and pull you out,” Wessel commanded.

            “It shall be done,” Dieter snapped off a salute and spun on his heel, hurrying off to do his captain’s biding. Wessel watched him go, then turned and headed for the radio room.  He had to make contact with the Kondor Legion and update them on his mission.

 

                                    *****

 

            “McKenzie sold us out,” Hannigan whispered to Gregor Shotsky as he jogged along next to him.

            “How?” Shotsky asked, trying to save his breath for running.  He had spent a long time aboard ship and all the sudden exercise was catching up with him.

            “Bridget was able to translate what McKenzie told that guy.  He told them that we were after the stone as well as the Nazis and that he was here to protect it,” Hannigan explained.

            “I’ll be ready then, Hardluck.  Even now, your luck shapes you,” Gregor said, managing a grin despite the situation.

            “That’s the way it goes.  Just be ready when the opportunity arises,” Hannigan said, slowly dropping back from Shotsky.

            Several minutes later they entered a larger path, this one paved with cut stones.   Shortly after, they emerged into a clearing and what they saw took their breath away.

 

                                    *****

 

            He had visitors.  The first in several years.  He had felt their approach from the moment they had entered his domain.  One of them he recognized immediately.  The Emissary from Rome and three others.  Another group followed behind them.  He stretched out his senses, searching for information.   Lost souls, the last group, and one being of pure Evil.  He ran his fingers through his silver hair and walked across the room.

 

            It had been nearly a millennium since he had first come to the Dark Continent and established his kingdom, following the precepts and teachings of the one called Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ.  It was the Christ who had told him where to find the stone, the emerald that had allowed his kingdom to prosper and grow.  It had allowed him to fulfill his vision and establish a Christian Kingdom among the unbelievers.

            His men had stood against all who had tried to invade his kingdom.  They stood strong against the assassins sent by those in Rome who feared him and the power he possessed.  They feared the time when he would march out of the jungle to do battle with the false prophet, the son of the Deceiver.

            He realized that the Emissary had led the soulless one to him.  The demonic entity that craved the fabled stone.  He could read the desire of the Emissary’s heart as easy as any other mans.  The Emissary hoped that he and the Soulless one would battle to the death and that the Emissary would be able to take the Emerald of Eternity back to Rome.

            Prester John lifted his crown from the table and placed it on his head.  It was time to meet his guests.  Both groups.  Smiling to himself, Prester John left his personal quarters and walked to the throne room.

 

                                    *****

 

            Heinrich Dieter and his men moved through the jungle like ghosts.  They had trained in this sort of environment before, trained to be able to move unseen by any watchers, to surround, infiltrate and destroy anyone who opposed them.  He was sure Ragnarok was unaware that they followed.  The madman was too focused on the emerald and the person he called McKenzie to worry that Wessel might be acting against him. They had seen signs of native watchers, but had slipped past them unnoticed as well.  Soon they would reach the fabled lost city and then it would be time to kill Ragnarok and recover the gemstone.

 

                                    *****

 

            Hannigan was impressed by the opulence of the throne room.  The city itself had been a marvel to behold, carved from stone; there was not a single seam between the rocks that formed the walls and doorways.  In fact the walls appeared to be some sort of quartz, almost pink in nature but the color fluctuated with the light.

High windows allowed plenty of sunlight to penetrate the interior, and Hannigan spotted more than one mirror reflecting light to other parts, lighting the interior as brightly as the day outside.

            Their escort had moved in tighter around them, and he noted the positions of the guards that were closest to him and how they were armed.  They were, he deduced, about to meet the famous (or infamous, depending on your point of view) Prester John.  The one thing working for Hannigan was the fact that McKenzie feared Prester John, and he had seen little else that the turncoat priest did fear.

            The group was herded in front of a raised dais with a marble throne sitting atop it.  A curtain behind the throne parted and a most amazing looking man stepped out from behind it.  He stood well over six feet tall, his hair almost silver in color, contrasting greatly with his dark bronze colored skin and strong muscled body.  Bright blue eyes carried an aura of vitality despite the impressing of great age that hovered over the man.  The head of the escort stepped forward and barked out a few words of the language that Bridget had identified as ancient Latin. 

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