The Word of God (44 page)

“So they are after the Scroll!” Joy said.

Stephen made a face. “What else?” he commented.

“Do they knew where to look?” Joy asked, turning to Old Ned.

Old Ned shook his head. “I certainly haven't told them. And they are miles out anyway.”

“Did they torture you?” Peter asked.

Old Ned shook his head again. “No. They just said I would be helping the forces of evil and would burn in Hell if I didn't tell them.”

Peter bent over the diagram and read out the sub-stations on the net: “H2 is North Queensland Liaison. That figures. They must have a local contact. Then we have 2A which is the A Echelon. I think that is where we are because 29 is next and that is the OC. That will be the radio in that brown Land Cruiser.”

Stephen agreed with this and said: “We could ask that signaller. He should know.”

“He will, but he probably won't talk. I think the dopey sentry is the man to question first,” Peter replied. He then went on reading: “The next four; 21, 22, 23 and 24, are the platoons: 5 Pl, 6 Pl, 7 Pl and 8 Pl.”

“They use the same system we do,” Megan commented.

“We use the American system,” Peter replied. “It is all standardized by those treaty arrangements, you know, NATO, ANZUS and so on. These characters are probably all ex-army types and just use the same system too.”

“That's probable,” Graham agreed. “What is this last circle though?” He pointed to one labelled AFO as a Call Sign and with FCAFA beside it.

Peter shook his head. “Beats me. Let's see what the prisoners have to say. Bring over the sentry Steve.”

“Shouldn't we be moving?” Megan asked.

Peter shook his head. “Not yet. We need to be sure of what we are up against first,” Peter replied.

Stephen walked over and untied the sentry and urged him over at gunpoint. The man looked very worried.
And well he might,
Peter mused.

Because when we finish with him his own mob are going to deal with him for being such a slack soldier!

Map 2: Herberton

Chapter 28

WHAT NEXT?

W
hile Stephen untied the sentry Peter looked through the other papers they had captured. A Strength State caught his eye. It was a table for organizing rations.

“What day is it?” he asked, noting the date on the top.

“Wednesday,” Joy replied, giving him another smile.

Peter shook his head. “Only Wednesday! It seems like a month since all this started, not four days,” he replied. Suddenly he felt very tired and knew he would have to make a special effort to keep going. Forcing himself to concentrate he scanned the table. It had headings for the sub-unit, location (either as a Grid Reference or as a Nickname); collection point, strength and remarks. The numbers astounded him: platoons of 36, 38, 42 and 37. The total was 177.

177! That many foreigners crawling all over the Hugh Nelson Range!
He shook his head in disbelief.

Graham pointed to the diagram. “The Qumran Signals Detachment is from the Regimental Signals Platoon, not from B Company,” he noted.

“Company B,” Peter replied.

“Eh?”

“Company B. The Yanks put it the other way round,” Peter replied. His eyes had just read something that sent him to the map to check. “Ah! Look, FCAFA Detachment, Tepon Airfield,” he said.

Joy leaned closer. “What does that mean?” she asked.

“They have their own planes. They are based at Tepon Airfield, about seven kilometres south west of here,” Peter explained.

Megan frowned. “What does FCAFA stand for?” she asked.

Peter shook his head. “Not sure,” he replied.

By then Stephen had returned and he pushed the captured sentry to a sitting position. Hearing the last comments he said: “Isn't there a thing called the Confederate Air Force?”

Peter thought there was but could not remember the details. Stephen handed him three cards taken from the man's wallet. One was a church membership the
same as the one he had seen earlier. The next was a membership card for the National Machine Gun Association of the USA and the third was a membership card for the National Rifle Association of the USA. Peter made a face. “What else would he be?” he said. He turned to the sentry. “Who are you?”

“Zebulon P. Vance,” the man replied. “And that's all I'm sayin'.”

“Oh yeah? What rank are you Zeb?”

“I'm a.. Ah, I'm not saying. I'm a civilian.”

Graham grinned. “I thought you weren't saying anything?” he jibed.

Zeb scowled. Peter frowned as well. Typical Graham, always saw the funny side of things. He asked: “What are you people doing here armed with rifles?”

Zeb shrugged. “We are just innocent hunters.”

Peter let his disbelief show on his face. “Dressed in those uniforms! Why are you dressed like soldiers?”

“A man has to carry his gear somehows,” Zeb replied sullenly.

“You are an American?”

“Yep, and right proud of it,” Zeb replied. “Now you just let us go. We ain't done nothin'. Give me back my wallet. Who are you to stick us up?”

Stephen nudged him with the barrel of his rifle. “We are asking the questions Zeb. And this is our country. What rank are you?”

“Private First Class.”

It was Peter's turn to smile. “I thought you said you were a civilian?”

“I.. I am. That is what I was when I was a GI,” Zeb replied.

Joy leaned forward: “Are you a Devil Worshipper?”

Zeb stared at her in surprise: “Hell no! We are good Christian soldiers. The Devil is our greatest enemy.”

“I thought you weren't a soldier?” Peter said.

Zeb looked flustered. “No. What I meant was that we are very religious. We obey The Lord and fight against evil.”

Sir Miles now joined in. “Have you seen any Devil Worshippers around here?

Men dressed in black?” he asked.

Zeb looked surprised and then shook his head. “Nope, lucky fer them,” he replied.

“Why lucky?” Sir Miles asked.

“'Cause we would'a shot ‘em,” Zeb answered.

“That would be breaking the law,” Peter commented.

Zeb sneered. “The only law we recognize is God's Law.”

Joy made a face. “Doesn't he say: Thou shalt not kill?” she asked.

Zeb shook his head vigorously. “No! He said: Thou shalt not murder. There are times when it is right and proper to kill, to do God's work.”

Stephen jeered and said: “If that's what God meant, why didn't he say so?”

“Don't mock the Word of God boy!” Zeb cried, his eyes glittering with animosity.

Peter noted the spark of religious fanaticism and said: “This is Australia, not America.”

“God's Laws apply everywhere,” Zeb replied.

“Where do you come from?”

“From Vicksburg, Mississippi.”

Peter glanced at the papers in his hand. “And you are in Company B of the 4th Regiment of the Mississippi Militia,” he said, as a statement rather than as a question.

Zeb went to speak, then shook his head. Peter held up the documents with their printed headings for him to read. “Who are the Mississippi Militia?”

“An army of free Christians who believe that the government has been taken over by evil men. We are dedicated to fighting the enemies of Jesus wherever they are found,” Zeb explained.

“A private army?”

“Yep.”

“What are you doing in North Queensland?”

“I ain't sayin'.”

Peter looked at Sir Miles, then asked Zeb: “Are you looking for one of the Dead Sea Scrolls?”

Zeb looked astonished: “How did you know that? Who told you that?”

“We have been trying to stop Devil Worshippers getting it for the last few days,” Peter replied.

Sir Miles leaned forward. “I am Sir Miles Falworth, a Knight of the Holy Grail. I was sent by the Pope to get the Scroll. Why do you people want it?”

“Colonel Wade reckons the thing is a hoax and the Devil's work; that it is just lies to try to discredit the Bible. We are to get that Scroll and destroy it,” Zeb replied.

“Who is Colonel Wade? Is he the man I saw get into the Land Cruiser?” Peter asked.

Zeb shook his head: “Nope. That was Major Johnston, our company commander. Colonel Wade is our CO. He is back in Mississippi, I think.”

“And you flew in by plane to Tepon?” Stephen asked.

“Nope. Most of us flew in to Sydney as ordinary tourists,” Zeb replied.

Peter nodded as understanding came to him. “And the Confederate Air Force flew in your guns?” he said.

Zeb made no answer but his eye movements indicated this was so. Peter picked up the Bible and held it up. “Why do you have this?”

“We all have Bibles. We are God-fearing men who respect the Word of God.

We always have the Good Book with us for guidance.”

“Code work more likely,” Peter said. His eye had fallen on a sheet titled: CODE SHEET. It had headings with dates, then one of the Books of the Bible and then a Chapter Number. “How does this work?”

Zeb shook his head and did not reply, but looked unhappy. Peter shrugged: “Doesn't matter. We will work it out.” He put the Code Sheet down, noting that it also had several telephone numbers on it.
The police will find this very interesting,
he thought.

As though to emphasize the situation the radio beside Joy suddenly began talking. They all jumped with nervousness. Joy took out her notebook and began writing. “It is Two Two trying to contact Two Alpha. That is this radio isn't it?”

Peter nodded. “Yes. Don't answer. Just copy the messages. We will decode them later,” he replied.

Graham aimed his rifle at Zeb. “Have you any idea where a girl named Gwen might be? The Black Monk took her hostage yesterday,” he said.

Zeb shook his head. “Black Monk? Who's he?”

Graham's face showed anger. “Have you seen a girl named Gwen yesterday or today?”

Again Zeb shook his head He stared at the rifle muzzle and licked his lips nervously. “No. Never heard of her. Careful with that gun sonny,” he replied.

Graham sneered. “Don't call me names when I've got the loaded rifle,” he retorted.

Sir Miles intervened. “What about a man named Frank Connolly? Have you seen him,” he asked.

Zeb's pupils contracted. He did not answer. Stephen pointed his rifle into the man's face and said harshly: “Come on Zeb. We can see you know. Now tell us or they might have trouble finding your body in all this forest.”

“You wouldn't dare!” Zeb croaked hoarsely. But he licked his lips and swallowed and had trouble meeting Stephen's eye. Then he faltered and said: “He is the man we are looking for. We went to his farm first but there was no one there. So his… our friend, told us that he and this old geezer,” He jerked a thumb
at Old Ned, “used to spend their weekends together out on the forest lookin' fer orchids and things.”

“Living in a hut beside a creek,” Peter added.

Zeb looked surprised. “Yeah. That's right.”

“Which creek?”

Zeb scowled. “Search me. Ask that old coot. He wouldn't tell us so we bin scouring the damned woods for the last two days goin' up and down every damned creek in the place.”

Zeb offered a few choice comments on what he thought of the North Queensland rainforest and its stinging tree and wait-a-while. This caused the cadets to smile.

Old Ned, who had been listening intently, now moved forward to join in. He asked: “Who told you about the Scroll?”

Zeb shook his head. “Don't know.”

Sir Miles said: “It doesn't matter. Obviously Frank spoke to a number of people and the word went to some Christian fundamentalists who passed it on to America.”

Peter nodded, then asked: “Right Zeb, you going to tell us any more?”

Zeb shook his head.

“OK Steve, take him back over there and tie him up. And give him back his wallet.” He tossed the wallet to Stephen who shoved it into the man's shirt, then took the man away. Peter looked at his watch. It was coming up to 11 O'clock. His mind raced with options and he bent to study the map again. The radio continued sending messages and Joy kept writing them down. They were just Call Signs and lots of two digit numbers.

“What next?” Graham asked.

“We get to safety and contact the police,” Peter replied.

“Which way?” Megan asked.

“That's what I'm trying to work out,” Peter said. He bent to the map and studied the pattern of patrols. Their exact locations weren't shown, just patrol areas, each several kilometres long. He counted them.

At least twelve,
he noted.

As well there was a symbol at a road junction at the western edge of the State Forest he now knew they were in. He presumed this was some sort of guard post or check point. On both sides of where he thought they were, between them and the nearest farms, were marked six patrol areas.