The Green Lama: Unbound (The Green Lama Legacy Book 3) (28 page)

“Oh God, Gan,” Caraway said, laughing nervously. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”

“My, my, my, John,” Gan said with a sad smile. “Whatever brought you all the way out here?”

Caraway leaned forward as much as he could, his shoulders burning, the metal cuffs digging into his wrists. “Gan, you have to get us outta this. Something bad is coming. Something really bad.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” the Nazi with the Van Dyke asked with a heavy accent.

Caraway risked a glance at the other Nazis and then whispered, “Kookookachoo.”

The Van Dyke Nazi erupted in maniacal laughter, clapping and stamping his feet in glee. “Kookookachoo!”

Caraway could feel his stomach twist. He did his best to ignore the manic Nazi. “Gan, you gotta help us.”

“I’m—” Gan risked a glance over his shoulder. His eyes fell to the ground and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, John.”

Caraway gritted his teeth. “You’re—you’re sorry?”

Gan turned to the other Nazis and nodded. “
Lasst uns hier raus.”

“You’re sorry?!” Caraway screamed as they walked away, pulling at his chains. “Gan, you can’t just leave us! You have to do something! Gan! They’re gonna kill us, Gan! They’re gonna kill us! You can’t just walk away! Gan! GAN!”

• • •

“How are our lambs?” Alexei asked as Heydrich approached the altar. Alexei was dressed in midnight black robes, a hood covering his wrinkled visage in shadows. He carefully leafed through the
Necronomicon
, the illuminated manuscript filled with horrifying images that would drive a mortal mind insane, but Alexei just smiled. Alexei’s bodyguard, the Greek behemoth Vasili, stood off in the corner, his eyes vacant, as if something had snapped inside. Torches had been lit throughout the complex as a steady stream of Nazis soldiers and hooded cultists flowed in.

“Angry, confused,” Heydrich replied, unable to remove his gaze from Vasili. “As is to be expected.”

Alexei laughed as he turned the page. “Good, it always helps for the blood to be boiling.”

“Will we be sacrificing both?”

“No. The girl is for the city. The man is for the Lama.”

“You think he will show?”

Alexei nodded, tapping an image in the book. “I
know
he will. I suppose I should have seen it, but with the
µαγικός
in recess I was blinded, and yet here it is, working like clockwork.” He turned his head toward Heydrich. “It is not polite to stare, Karl. As to the question that has been sitting on the tip of your tongue, Vasili is not dead—at least not yet. It seems that upon touching the
Necronomicon
, Vasili’s latent extrasensory perception began to take hold, flooding his mind. It’s a pity, really. So many years keeping him close and in control just to see him snap before the ascension.” He shrugged. “No matter. He will still play his role.”

“Very good,” Heydrich said as he loosened his collar and began to pace the altar.

“Something else?” Alexei asked, sensing Heydrich’s anxiety.

“While I am eager to spill blood in the name of the Great Old Ones, I cannot help but feel this all just seems… superfluous.”

“And why is that, Karl?” Alexei asked quietly.

Heydrich cleared his throat. “You brought the American woman here and framed her for murder to bait Dumont into following. And while it did bring him here…” He trailed off, hesitant. Though Alexei’s back was turned, Heydrich could feel his master watching him, waiting to see what he would say. Heydrich cleared his throat again, feeling the heat rise within him. “You lost the woman and when you had Dumont in your hands you let him go. Added upon that you still have not given us the Third Tablet. I don’t mean to misspeak or call into question your plans,” he quickly added. “I know how easily a prophecy can be misread, but I must be able to show my people
something
.”

Alexei turned to face Heydrich, a small smile on his lips, his eyes black. “Do not worry Herr Heydrich,” he said as he closed the book. “After tonight, I will show them more than they could have ever dared dreamed.”

Hirsch and Gan watched hundreds of cloaked men and women entered the complex, their heads bowed, hands held palms up as they chanted the near unpronounceable phrase “
Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!
” over and over and over again.

“My God, where are they all coming from?” Gan mused, his gaze distant. The chanting was maddening, aching the back of his mind. He massaged his eyes, trying to fight back the pain.

Hirsch gripped him by the arm. “Sir, what should we do?”

“I don’t know.”

Hirsch shook his head. “This is wrong, sir. We cannot just sit by and do nothing.”

“Can’t we?” Gan snapped. “Herr Doktor Hammond is correct. Killing those two for the sake of our mission is no different than what we have planned for the Jews. Why should those two have any reprieve?”

“Sir, do not misunderstand, their lives are meaningless. It is this ritual, this next step toward the raising of that monster that I cannot abide. Heydrich and his friends could kill a hundred people, a thousand, a million and more, and I would not bat an eye if it meant saving
one
German life.” He stepped closer to Gan, his voice hoarse. “Sir, if we allow this to continue it will come at the greatest cost. You know this.”

“Or perhaps it is just another sacrifice, one amongst thousands we have already made in order to fulfill the wishes of our masters?” Gan spit back, his face red. “We are not even waves in the tides of history, Hirsch. If this is the direction we are pointed, who are we to try and turn away?”

“We are Germans, Herr Oberführer,” Hirsch pleaded. “We are the Master Race. We do not follow the tides; we make them.”

Gan’s gaze dropped to the floor. “And what of the Chosen People?” Gan whispered.

“Sir, we
are
they.”

Gan lifted his head and looked at Hirsch, pitying the Sturmbannführer. He placed a hand on Hirsch’s shoulder and smiled weakly. “What did I tell you, Hirsch?”

Hirsch’s eyes fell. “‘Appearances and secrecy, above all else, will be the keys to our success, ’” he repeated from memory.

“Yes,” Gan said, his tone mournful, his face grey. “If we were to act now, our cause would be lost. Do you understand me, Herr

Sturmbannführer?”

Hirsch nodded solemnly. “
Ja
. I understand.”

“Be brave, Hirsch,” Gan said, walking away. “It is all we have now.”

“
Ja
, Herr Oberführer,” Hirsch said as he drew his Lüger. “I will be brave.”

• • •

“Jeez, where are all these people coming from?” Ken asked as they watched the steady stream of robed cultists enter the Sanctuary. They were crouched in the brush several yards away from the ancient complex, out of the sight of the oncoming mass. Stars littered the clear night sky, as if someone had punched a hole directly into space, reminding Jethro of his days at the Temple of the Clouds.

“They’ve been waiting for this night for millennia,” Jethro solemnly replied. “They’ve had generations to prepare.”

“Do you see Caraway or the woman?” Jean asked as she quietly reloaded her pistol, her face grim. This is when Caraway was supposed to die. If they could save him, then maybe they could save everyone else…

Jethro peered into the darkness and shook his head in frustration. “Not yet. I can see three men at the altar. One looks like he’s reading a book.”

“That’s probably Alexei with the
Necronomicon
,” Ken added. “The big guy next him is Vasili, I think. The third guy looks like—”

“A Nazi,” Jethro finished. “There are about two hundred soldiers on the island, all well-armed, and at least four officers. Gan’s one of them.”

“Gan’s here!” Ken exclaimed. A smile broke his lips. He exhaled his relief. “Oh, thank God! At least we have someone on the other side.”

“Gan won’t forsake his mission, just as we will not abandon ours,” Jethro said. “I am certain he will do what he can to help us, but he will not compromise his cover, even if it means sacrificing John’s life in the process.”

Ken ran his hands through his hair, crestfallen. “Well, that’s not very comforting.”

Jean holstered her gun and slid beside Jethro. “What’s the plan?”

He didn’t have one. He looked at her, her hand still resting on her pistol handle. That was all they really had between them and an army of cultists.

He felt her eyes on him and realized that despite the incredible odds, the fact that they were facing them together made it somehow feasible. “It’s a trap,” he replied.

“This isn’t my first dance, Dumont,” she shot back smugly. “Question is: what do we do about it? Spring the trap?”

Jethro pointed out toward the throng of robed people. “See how the cultists are dispersed? More importantly, see how the Nazi soldiers
aren’t
, all clumped together on the other side of the ruins? There are more of them, scattered along the brush and in the shadows, waiting for us to jump in and save the day. Even if they’re expecting us—which they are—we can’t let them know we’re here. We need the element of surprise.”

Jean raised an eyebrow and whispered, “Surprise? You can’t just run out there and beat them all up?”

Jethro grimaced. “I’m out of radioactive salts,” he said under his breath.

“Guys, what are you talking about?” Ken asked, straining to listen in.

Jean rolled her eyes. “You don’t carry a spare on you just in case?” Jean asked. “Figured guys like you would have one in each pocket.”

“Left them on the airship,” Jethro replied. Then off her expression,” e were attacked by a living storm.”

“Goddammit,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration.

Ken tried to inch closer. “If you guys are coming up with a plan, I’d really like to hear it.”

“We could go in guns blazing,” Jean said, indicating her pistol. “That’ll surprise ’em.”

“Only for a moment,” Jethro said, shaking his head. “We’re outnumbered a hundred to one, and that’s not counting the Nazis. They’d overtake us in seconds and there will be nothing we could do to stop them. Whatever we do, we have to remain unseen.”

Ken looked out to the growing throng of hooded cultists and rubbed his unshaven chin in thought. “Well,” he began with a nonchalant shrug,” e could always borrow a few robes.”

Jean gave Jethro an excited smile.

• • •

“
Grenadier!
” Gan shouted.

The soldier stopped dead in his tracks and saluted. “Yes, Herr Oberführer Gan?”

“Grenadier, have you seen Sturmbannführer Hirsch?”

“
Nein
, sir,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not since we arrived at the ruins, sir.”

Frowning, Gan nodded in disappointment. He rubbed the scar on his forehead and asked,” re all the sentries in place?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy nodded. “We are patrolling the forest just as the Obergruppenführer commanded.”

“Good. Thank you,” he said. The soldier saluted again and began to turn away. “I did not dismiss you, Grenadier.”

The soldier quickly spun on his heel. “Sorry, Herr Oberführer.”

“Tell me, Grenadier, did your mother dress you every day before you joined the
Heer
?” Gan asked.

The soldier risked a befuddled glance at his commanding officer. “Excuse me, sir?” he asked with a nervous smile.

Gan placed his hands behind his back. “I believe the question was very clear, Grenadier. Did your mother dress you before you joined the
Heer
?”

“I—
Nein
, sir,” he stuttered, “My mother did not dress me—”

“
Lügner!
” Gan exclaimed. “Your armaments, Grenadier,” he said, indicating the loosely hanging shoulder strap laced with grenades. “War is coming, boy! With sloppiness like this you will kill more of your countrymen than you will our enemy!”

“I—I am sorry, sir!” the young soldier stuttered.

“Do not apologize, Grenadier!” Gan raged. “Fix yourself or I will fix it for you!”

“Sir, I—I—!” The soldier fumbled to fix himself.

“
Dummkopf!
” Gan cursed, grabbing the Grenadier’s shoulder strap and forcibly tightening it. “Here, this is how to look like a proper German soldier!”

“Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!”

“Now go! Go!” Gan repeated, angrily waving the soldier away.

The young soldier fumbled a salute and tottered off. Once out of sight, Gan considered the grenade he had lifted off the boy, wondering if he would really need to use it.