The Reluctant Warrior (9 page)

“I think I can,” Jed said thoughtfully.

“Go on.” Rex propped himself up as best he could, eager to hear his friends theory.

“A while back I was reading a scientific paper on the speed of light.”

“You always did have your nose in a scientific book or journal,” Rex quipped.

“Yeah, well this one rather intrigued me at the time.” He took a moment to compose his thoughts. “Apparently, there is a theory in some scientific circles that the speed of light hasn’t always been what it is now.”

“What speed is it now?”

“I don’t actually recall,” Jed confessed.

“Some scientist you’d make,” Rex said cheekily.

“This one particular scientist,” Jed said, carrying on with his story, “claims that the speed of light has been gradually slowing down over the course of history until it reached its current speed around the year 1966.”

“Okay,” Rex said, having just absorbed this new piece of information, “what’s that have to do with Frida’s age?”

“It’s generally agreed in the scientific world that if you can travel faster than the speed of light you wouldn’t age.”

The penny dropped for Rex. “If the speed of light travelled faster in ancient times then that would account for the long lives in the bible.”

“Exactly, an age of 900 or so years could then be quite possible.”

“What could have happened to make it slow down and cause everyone to age faster?”

“I believe the biblical flood did. All the racial groups on the planet have legends of a great flood that caused massive seismic upheavals lifting up mountain ranges and sinking deep valleys. Maybe that cataclysmic event upset the delicate balance the planet had been enjoying. Possibly the speed of light was affected at the same time.”

“So you think that although the surface was affected by the speed of light slowing, inside the earth escaped it?”

“It would explain why Frida and Amora have been alive for over two hundred years but look like they’re only in their early twenties.”

Rex’s eyes suddenly widened. “You don’t think we’ll live to 900 now we’re here, do you?”

“Not 900. Our bodies have already degenerated to the stage where we’re the equivalent of about 340 of their years. We might live another five hundred or so years though.”

Rex was mentally doing the arithmetic. “So that means ten of our years equal about one hundred of theirs. It’s incredible.”

“Might not pay to tell the Noragin our true ages,” Jed suggested. “It would be too confusing for them to comprehend.”

“It’s too confusing for me to comprehend,” Rex confessed. “But I have to admit I am looking forward to living another five hundred years, especially if it’s going to be with Frida.”

Jed sat bolt upright. “Something has just occurred to me. Montrose and his men aren’t second or third generation. They’re the original men sent here in 1947 to set up a base.”

“Makes sense,” Rex agreed. “If the Noragin are aging slowly then there’s no reason why Montrose and his men wouldn’t be too.”

“That makes him even more dangerous than I first thought. He’s had over sixty-seven years experience of warfare in this land. We’ve only had a few weeks.”

“Might make him complacent too,” Rex suggested. “After all, he’s had it pretty much all his own way for those sixty-seven years. He’s grown accustomed to encountering very little in the way of serious resistance.”

“I don’t think he’s going to be too complacent after yesterday’s events,” Jed pointed out. “We carved his fortress up pretty bad, so he’ll know he’ll have to be on his toes to counter the new threat that we pose to him.”

“So what are your plans now?”

“Jonathon and I are going back tonight to finish off his last chopper.”

Rex’s eyes betrayed his astonishment. “That’s madness you’ll never get out alive.” He stared at Jed for a moment in the hope he was only joking. “You’ve just finished saying he’ll be on his toes, so he’ll have the place heavily guarded.”

“There’s no other way. We’re up against a professional soldier, so if we don’t disable that chopper he’ll use it against us to devastating effect.”

“There must be some other way.” A hint of desperation had crept into Rex’s voice.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought, but I can’t think of anything else. If I can get into the compound it’ll only take a few seconds for me to destroy that chopper.”

“And have you given any thought as to how you’ll get out once you’ve done that?” Rex asked brusquely.

Jed chuckled. “I’ll run like the wind.”

“It’s not funny,” Rex growled. “You can’t make it out of there and you know it.” He turned his head away. “I suppose you’ve told Amora about your hair-brained scheme?”

“No, nor do I intend to.”

Rex shook his head in disapproval. “You’ve let her fall in love with you only to now go and get yourself killed. That’s just plain cruel on the poor girl.”

Jed took the accusation in and carefully considered it. Could he have stopped Amora from falling in love with him? Maybe if Rex hadn’t filled her head with stories of him being a mighty warrior he may have. But it was no use arguing over it now, she was in love with him and that was all there was to it.

“Yes, it is cruel on her,” he admitted. “But the good of all the people of this world must take precedence over one pretty girl.”

“You’re beginning to sound like a politician.”

“Am I?” Jed had taken on so much since he had been with the Noragin, and now with Rex laid up he was forced to forge on ahead with only Jonathon to help make the life and death decisions that would either save these people from annihilation or condemn them to extinction. So maybe Rex was right, maybe he did sound like a politician.

“Yes,” Rex said stiffly. “But I suppose there’s no changing your mind.” He reached out and grasped Jed’s hand tightly. “If you don’t come back then I need you to know I’ve always valued your friendship.”

“And I yours,” Jed said, fully believing this was the last time he would ever see his friend again
.

The grappling hook caught hold on the top of the wall on the third attempt, and as Jed pulled the rope tight he silently praised Jonathon’s ingenuity in fashioning it from a piece of the twisted remains of the burnt out helicopter. After hauling himself up he lay flat on his stomach atop the eight foot wide wall and waited for Jonathon to join him. A tree a hundred yards out from the wall caught his eye. “If I can make it to that tree I’ll have some cover until I can make a break for the chopper,” he said to Jonathon.

Jonathon’s eyes were scanning the compound. “Where’s the helicopter?”

Jed’s heart leapt into his throat. The chopper was gone. Had they taken it up for a night patrol? He frantically scoured the area for any sight of it. The burned out choppers were still there, but not the good one.

“Might be in one of the big sheds,” Jonathon suggested.

Of course, why hadn’t Jed thought of that? Montrose would meticulously guard his one remaining helicopter, and what better way than to keep it under lock and key.

“It’ll be in that building over there.” Jonathon was pointing to a wooden structure about two hundred yards from the tree. “It’s the only one large enough to fly a chopper in and out of.”

Jed calculated his chances of making it to the makeshift hangar. The problem being, these inner earth nights were just too bright. He could easily make out several guards milling around outside the building, and if he could see them then they would be able to see him.

The pair crawled stealthily along the wall until they had the tree between them and the hangar. When Jed was confident he was shielded from sight he shinnied down the rope and made a break for the tree. Jonathon’s job was to remain on the wall and give him some cover fire when he was ready to come back. Crouching behind the gnarled trunk he weighed up his options. He had made it this far but how was he to give the three guards by the hangar the slip? Some type of diversion, but what exactly?

Gunfire sounded from the top of the wall, and Jed spun round in time to see Jonathon hastily reload his rifle. A guard had strolled along the wall towards Jonathon’s location, and so he had been forced to drop him before he was spotted and shot.

“Jed…Jed…” Jonathon yelled, “we’ve gotta get out of here.”

In that brief moment Jed saw the opportunity he had been hoping for. He had no more than thirty seconds before it closed up on him. “You get yourself back to the village,” he yelled back, “it’s too late for me.”

Alerted by his single shot the guards were running towards Jonathon’s position on the wall, so Jed knew that the bunkhouses would be coming alive with the commotion going on outside and soon be emptying its men into the compound. It was now or never. Waiting for the guards to come past the tree first he then made a desperate break for the hangar. Hopefully they would be too busy trying to deal with Jonathon to look back and spot him.

Gunfire erupted behind him and so he closed his eyes in expectation, but feeling no pain anywhere on his body he realized the shooting was intended for Jonathon. He must be drawing them away to give Jed the chance of making it to the hangar unseen.

Men came hurtling through the many doors of the bunkhouse and began to fill the compound seconds after he had found cover behind some barrels stacked up against the wall of the hangar. Peeping out from behind the barrels he could only dimly make out the form of Jonathon laying flat on the wall and firing. Then he was gone, obviously shimmying his way down the rope to make his escape.

Jed realized his friends chances of getting away were almost zero when he noticed the horses he had spotted in a corral being caught and saddled. They were planning to run Jonathon down out on the prairie. Jed knew he must do something to give his buddy a fighting chance.

Waiting until the main gate was opened he took one of the methanol jars from his pack and lighting its wick ran towards the corral. Tossing it amongst the jostling horses he was gratified to see mayhem result as the jar burst and flames spread rapidly across the ground. Before Montrose’s men could secure the corral gate the horses had careered through and were hurtling towards the main gate and freedom. He hoped it would be enough to save Jonathon.

Having done all he could for his friend he turned and charged towards the hangar. A shot rang out and then he heard something whine past his ear. Off to his left he spied a small access door, and so dropping his shoulder he charged full tilt into it, all the while praying the last jar wouldn’t get broken. To his surprise the door flew open on the first attempt and he found himself sprawled on the dusty floor of the hangar. He was on his feet in an instant and fumbling in his pack as he covered the last few yards to the chopper. His hand came out with the undamaged jar, and so producing Rex’s trusty lighter he quickly lit the wick and tossed it onto the floor of the helicopter.

The effect was immediate, and as the flames spread rapidly to engulf the entire chopper Jed made for the door before they reached the fuel tank. But it was too late; the force of the blast lifting him up slammed him against the door frame. He was dimly aware of voices nearby, and then he knew nothing.

As Jed’s eyelids forced their way open he found himself strapped into a chair and looking into the most evil eyes he had ever seen.

“You have caused me a great deal of trouble,” the mouth that belonged to the evil eyes said.

Jed waited for his head to stop spinning before he attempted an answer. “You would be Colonel Charles Montrose, I presume?” He didn’t bother to disguise the disgust in his voice.

“Yes, and I am the law here. What you have done to me should cost you your life.” He paced up and down, lightly tapping a riding crop into the palm of his hand. “But I am a lenient man.”

“Not from the evidence I’ve seen.”

Montrose stopped mid pace, and Jed noticed the crop coming down that little bit harder into the palm. “I take it you are an American?” He looked Jed up and down. “That is if your accent is anything to go by?”

“A thoroughly ashamed one when I saw what you’d done to the people of this world.”

“They are primitives,” Montrose said firmly. “They need the direction of a more civilized people.”

Jed’s lip turned up in a sneer. “You’re a butcher, there’s nothing civilized about an animal like you.”

The riding crop hit Jed savagely across the cheek. “You are too insolent for your own good.” Montrose glared disapprovingly at him. “Enough of this small talk, I want to know how you came to be in my kingdom.”

His kingdom…? Now Jed was sure he must be mad. His ideas of grandeur had obviously got out of hand somewhere along the way and now he really thought of himself as the king of this forgotten world. “I came across the ice,’ Jed answered bluntly.

“How…?”

“On a sled towed by a kite.”

Jed could see Montrose was mulling it over, deciding whether or not it really was possible for a kite to pull a sled that far. “How did you know there’d be anything here for you to find?”

“We knew of your 1947 expedition, it was well documented in army archives back in the U.S.”

“You couldn’t have, it was top secret.”

“Maybe in 1947 it was, but we are no longer living in the 1940’s. The expedition is ancient history now.”

Montrose’s interest was fully piqued.

“How many men did you bring with you?”

Jed needed time to think this question over before he answered. He would have to stall for time. “Does it matter,” he said curtly, a little too curtly, for the riding crop hit him again, same spot, more painful.

“You are beginning to annoy me,” Montrose rasped.

“I’m none too taken with you either,” Jed said, unwisely.

The riding crop went up again.

“If you hit me with that thing one more time I’ll tell you nothing,” Jed warned.

“The crop slowly came down. “What is your name?”

“Jed Rand.”

“You are obviously a military man,” Montrose observed. “Nobody but an experienced officer could have pulled off that attack yesterday.”

“A major in the U.S. army,” Jed lied.

“How many men have you brought with you?”

Jed knew exactly how to answer the question this time. “A whole division,” he lied again.

“And you brought that many men across the ice on skis pulled by kites?”

Montrose was obviously skeptical and so Jed would have to make this story a good one. “We have technology now that you wouldn’t have dreamed possible when you were in the army,” he said, truthfully this time.

“Then why didn’t you just fly in like we did? It would be safer than sledding across the ice.”

“We were testing some new equipment that could only be tested at ground level and while on the move.”

Once more Montrose seemed to be weighing up the evidence, and Jed just hoped he had done enough to sow a seed of doubt in the despots mind. If he could get him to believe that he was up against an enemy that had technology he knew nothing about then he may just back off long enough to give Rex and Jonathon enough time to come up with a plan to defeat him.

“What weapons did you bring with you?”

Jed knew he had to play this one carefully. If he made out he had brought superior weapons with him then Montrose would ask him why he had chosen to use the archaic rifles captured from his own men. Jed wouldn’t have a believable answer for that, and then Montrose would know he had been lying all along.

“We didn’t bring any weapons with us. Our brief was to find and occupy the base you established in 1947 and report back as to what had happened to you. This was not to be a military maneuver.”

“You found the base, I take it?”

“We did, and then we moved further into the interior and discovered you were still alive when we linked up with the Noragin.”

The riding crop was now being tapped at a frantic pace. “And have you been in contact with the outside world?”

“Yes, of course.” This would be Jed’s master stroke. If he could pull this off he would avert a lot of bloodshed, including his own. “When we found what you’d been up to we contacted McMurdo who in turn has informed the Pentagon. A strike force is being deployed as we speak.” He looked Montrose directly in the eyes. “In the 67 years you’ve been gone you wouldn’t believe how advanced our weapons of war have become.”

“I don’t believe you,” Montrose snarled. “There is no strike force.”

Jed could see more than a hint of fear in the madman’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter whether you believe it or not. In less than ten days time you and all your allies will cease to exist. The United States of America does not tolerate traitors.”

“I want to know the locations of all the Noragin and Skraeling hideouts,” Montrose said firmly, “and I want to know them now.”

“So you can murder more innocent people? Not a chance.”

The whip was brought down full force on Jed’s face. “Tell me where they are,” Montrose screamed.

Jed gritted his teeth through the pain. “I told you that if you hit me again I’d tell you nothing,” he said defiantly.

Montrose marched over to the door and yanking it open barked out an order. “Post a guard on this door.” He turned back to Jed. “You’ll talk, I promise you that.” Then he was gone.

Jed looked around the room. It was obviously a well constructed cell, for the only way in or out was through the door, and even if he could untie himself he doubted he could get it open let alone deal to the guards. But he must come up with a plan to get out of here soon as he had no doubt Montrose would make good his threat to get the information out of him. He was the type of man who could dream up any number of cruel devises to make a man talk, a riding crop across an unprotected face being the mildest of them.

Jed spared a thought for Jonathon. He hoped he had made it back to the village safely. What he didn’t hope for was Erik to mount an attack on the fortress to try and free him. Montrose had too many men and too many rifles for Erik to be successful.

He suspected Amora would know by now. Jonathon would have had no choice but to tell her. Rex had been right when he said it would be cruel on her, but then it would have been much crueler for her to be taken for one of Montrose’s men to violate her. Probably to become Montrose’s woman in fact, because when he laid eyes on her he would have wanted no one else, and Jed had come here to try and stop that from happening.

The throbbing from his facial welts was beginning to bother him now, and he didn’t know how much time had elapsed with him trussed up and unable to inspect them before he heard a key being inserted in the door. Within seconds a man in khaki uniform had slipped silently through. “Major Rand,” he whispered. “I’m here to free you.”

Jed watched on in disbelief as the stranger cut his tightly trussed up body free from its ropes.

“I’m Private Steve Jurgens,” he said quickly. “Follow me and I’ll get you safely out of here.”

Jed’s throbbing head struggled to focus. “Aren’t you one of Montrose’s men?”

“You’re wondering why one of his men would be freeing you? That’s understandable.” He pulled the last of the ropes away from Jed’s legs. “Montrose has become an evil monster, and there are many of us who have become discontent with his leadership. If you are leading a rebellion against Montrose then I want to be a part of it.” He helped Jed to his feet. “Come on, I know a safe way out of here.”