Chapter II

An Angel Speaks, A Devil Whispers

 

Knight’s awakening was accompanied by a myriad of sensations. He was in a comfortable bed, the warmth from a space heater coming from nearby. His head was bandaged and felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton. When he tried to sit up, his vision swam and a pounding began in his temples, eliciting a groan from his parched throat.

Doyle was up in a flash, having been dozing in a nearby chair. “Dick! You’re still with us!”

“Of course I am, you misanthrope. The question is: where am I?”

“Back at the base. I carried you and the others back to the plane and flew us here. Brett’s had the best doctors available looking after you.”

“Papen?”

“Got away. But we got all three of his pals, including that big galoot that was pounding on you.”

Knight looked at his friend and his expression softened. “Thanks.”

Doyle looked uncomfortable and tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Aw, it wasn’t nothin’ you wouldn’t have done for me.”

“Did the professor and his daughter pull through?”

“They’re both fine. In fact, they’re already awake. Brett’s been holding off on talking to them until you were fit enough to be there.”

Knight girded himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, making sure that the back flap of his hospital gown didn’t ruin his dignity. “Can you get me my clothes?”

Doyle nodded, hurrying over to a closet. “The doc will want to give you the A-OK to be moving around, you know.”

Knight ignored that, having little patience for doctors in general. They were a godsend when needed, to be sure, but he knew his own body better than anyone else ever would.

Once he was dressed, Knight approached a mirror and examined the dressing on his head. There wasn’t any blood leaking through so he risked removing it. He had received a few stitches but the large bandage had been overkill in his opinion. He tossed it in the garbage pail and grinned at Doyle. “Lead the way, my friend.”

 

***

 

Gretchen looked a good deal better now that she’d been cleaned up and restored to health. Knight couldn’t help but notice the rosy complexion of her cheeks, the fullness of her lips and the sky blue eyes. As he stared at her across the table, his gaze didn’t even lower to the impressive figure she possessed: it remained rooted to her face, which seemed remarkably wise for a girl of her youth.

Obviously aware of his interest, Gretchen blushed and looked over at her father, who sat beside her. Professor Nast had thinning white-blonde hair and a thin frame but it was obvious that some of Gretchen’s good genes came from him.

Also seated in the briefing room were General Brett and Doyle, both of whom were on Knight’s side of the table.

Brett leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “Let’s start from the top, Professor: What were you bringing us and how far up the creek are we now that the Nazis have it?”

The Professor fiddled with the front pocket of his blazer, producing a small pipe. “Do you mind, General?”

Brett waved a hand. “Doesn’t bother me though it may encourage Knight to do the same and Doyle’s gonna have a fit if he does.”

Doyle snorted, looking over at Knight. “The professor’s tobacco can’t possibly smell as bad as that stuff Dick smokes.”

Knight gave a shrug. “Just goes to show how uncultured you are, my friend.”

The professor struck a match and lit the tobacco leaves, taking several puffs before beginning his explanation. “The Stones of Heaven are mentioned in no less than four major religious works dating from the 14th century onward. As best as we can guess, a meteor shower hit Western Europe at some point in that era, possibly in 1377. There were reportedly six Stones in all and they were believed to contain the power of God himself. There are reports of metal objects flying toward them, as well as peculiar effects on those who handled them. With our modern understanding of science, we can easily guess that the highly magnetic properties of the rocks caused mental and physical duress in those who were near them for too long.”

“My fillings hurt,” Knight confirmed, drawing a nod from the Professor.

“And if you were to remain near them for even longer, you might experience disorientation or even memory loss. Such things are not unheard of around highly magnetic materials.”

Doyle cleared his throat. He’d been trying to catch Gretchen’s eye without much success and he was beginning to realize that Knight was the only man in the room that she had any desire for. That was okay – it certainly wasn’t the first time that Doyle had lost out to his good friend. “I don’t get it,” he said when everyone turned to look at him. “What’s the big deal about a bunch of meteorites? Is Hitler going to build a really big magnet?”

It was Gretchen’s turn to speak up now, cutting off her father’s response. Her English was quite good though her accent was pronounced enough that she’d never pass for an American. The lilt of her voice was pleasant though the tone of the words was not. “It always amazes me how little history you Americans know. Over and over again, things that seem insubstantial at first glance are much more important when you look closely at them. Why would four major religious works mention The Stones of Heaven unless there was something important there? Just like the Flood, which appears in numerous texts throughout the world, there is a truth to be found in the old stories.”

Doyle frowned slightly, liking the beauty a little less with each passing second. “Okay. So let me rephrase the question: Is Hitler going to build a really big magnet out of these really old and very important Stones of Heaven?”

Gretchen sighed, looking at her father with what Doyle assumed was a common expression. “Neanderthal,” she murmured under her breath.

Professor Nast smiled apologetically. “You must forgive my daughter. I schooled her myself and I’m afraid she has never learned certain social protocols.”

“Nah,” Doyle said, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s a real peach.”

“Go on, Professor,” Knight said.

“Very well. As my daughter said, the Stones were reputed to possess supernatural powers. It was said that if all six stones were placed in physical contact with one another, a powerful beam of energy would shoot out in all directions, completely disintegrating anyone caught in its path. Because of this, the Stones were separated from one another. Individually and in small groups, they passed through the hands of many great European leaders, acquiring the reputation for being extremely lucky for whoever held them. Finally, a man named Simon O’Brady collected them around 1863. He was of the persuasion that the Stones were not meant for human hands. He paid a seafaring man named Henry Grace to transport them to America and hide them in six remote locations, hoping that no one would ever find them again.”

“Might I ask a question, Professor?”

“Of course, Mr. Knight.”

“You mentioned the death ray that’s generated by the six stones coming into contact – what’s the duration of the ray? It must fade out at some point, if anyone is ever able to handle them again.”

“Very good observation!” the Professor exclaimed, looking as if a student had just revealed that he was quite promising. “Though we don’t know the full details, a journal left behind by Mr. O’Brady indicates that after the initial burst of energy, the Stones would cool down over time, allowing them to be touched by human hands. Presumably, if they were left alone, the energy would build up again and once more spew forth.”

“And Hitler already has a few of these stones, I’m gathering.”

“Counting the one he got from us,” Gretchen said, “he has five.”

Doyle grunted. “So not only is he five times as lucky as a normal guy but he’s one away from getting a death ray.”

General Brett stood up, clasping his hands behind his back. “Professor… I assume that you have some notion as to the location of the final Stone?”

“I do, yes. Unfortunately, the Nazis will not be far behind. We managed to locate a map drawn by Captain Grace, which clearly shows the region where he placed each Stone. Unfortunately, the Germans have his logbook. It is not as detailed as the map but they will know the general location.”

“And that is?”

“The last Stone is hidden in the American Southeast – inside the city of Atlanta. I believe the Germans are aware that it’s in the city but not the exact spot.”

“But you do?”

“Yes.” The Professor nodded at his daughter, who presented an old map, rolled up and bound together by a string. “But my daughter and I are in agreement that we do not wish to share the map unless you allow us to go on the mission to retrieve the Stone. We’ve spent the better part of four years chasing after them and we want to see it through to the end.”

Brett didn’t look pleased to be forced into any kind of bargain. “Those Stones could make the difference between our life and death, Professor. That means I can commandeer that map of yours anytime I please. Now if you would like to politely ask me to allow you to accompany Knight and Doyle, I might be willing to do so.”

Nast’s shoulders slumped a bit and he appeared genuinely contrite as he asked, “General, may we go with them? I would be in your debt.”

“What do you think?” Brett asked, deferring the decision to Knight.

Though Doyle was very unsubtly shaking his head in the negative, Knight said, “I think it would be unfair to exclude them from this, General. But I’d want it made very clear that they’re to do exactly what Doyle and I tell them.”

The Professor agreed readily enough but Gretchen paused before finally relenting.

Knight rose, motioning for Doyle to do the same. “We’re going to get the Northrop ready to fly.”

Both Brett and Doyle seemed surprised. It was Doyle who spoke first, though. “But that’s only a two-seater, Dick.”

“I know.” Knight smiled at Brett. “How you get them there is up to you, General. We’ll wait for them at the airfield in Atlanta.”

Without waiting for a response, Knight hurried to the door. He was out of it with Doyle at his heels by the time Gretchen unleashed an unladylike series of German curses.

Doyle slapped his friend on the back. “That was for me, wasn’t it? ‘Cause she treated me bad.”

Knight raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Doyle’s laughter echoed down the hall.

 

***

 

Papen stared into the mirror, carefully trimming his Van Dyke beard. He was a vain man and he knew it, though he considered it a rather mild personal defect.

The door to his room opened quickly and he frowned, wondering who would dare intrude upon his domain without so much as a knock first. When he saw who stood in the doorway, however, he was glad he had held his tongue.

Major Arnold Belzig was an ugly little man with froglike features. The bespectacled Nazi favored well-tailored black suits, long coats and expensive hats. A member of The Thule Society, Belzig was a longtime favorite of Hitler and it was said that the two dined together often.

“Captain,” Belzig said with a dangerous looking smile. He strode into the room, two plainclothes SS officers trailing behind in his wake. “I can imagine that you are surprised to see me.”

Papen wiped his hands and face off on a towel. He was in trousers and socks only and he felt naked in the face of Belzig. “What are you doing in America?” he asked, not bothering to hide his contempt for the little man.

“A better question might be what are you doing in America. Your predecessor retrieved four of the fabled Stones before meeting his untimely demise and yet you, in nearly twice as much time, have yet to locate the final two rocks. The Fuehrer grows weary of waiting so I offered to come here and assist you.”

Belzig wandered the room, picking up objects here and there before setting them down in obvious disapproval. Papen was an avid collector of Hollywood paraphernalia and he traveled with his most prized possessions. Thus, the walls of his hotel room were covered with movie posters and photographs; the shelves and nooks had props resting within.

“I appreciate the assistance,” Papen said with forced gentility. He was well aware of the SS men watching their exchange. “But it is completely unnecessary. I have located the fifth Stone and the sixth is somewhere in this city.”

Belzig wandered over to the curtains and yanked them open. The so-called ‘Empire City of the South’ greeted his eyes. “Atlanta,” he said, letting the word roll off his tongue. “Have you read its history?”

“A bit.” Papen was actually reading through a book entitled Gone With the Wind. Its melodrama appealed to him and he couldn’t help but think it would make an excellent movie, though it would have to be excised of much of the story’s fat to make it an appropriate length.

Belzig continued speaking, as if Papen were a student attending a lecture. “It is a Phoenix of sorts, this place. Burned to the ground during the American Civil War, it was almost completely rebuilt. Then in 1917, nearly two thousand buildings burned in what they call The Great Atlanta Fire. And yet look at it today: the gleaming capital of the American South.” Belzig shook his head sadly. “But despite their perseverance, they will never rise above the muck unless they receive help. The city is overrun by the uneducated ‘Crackers’ while the Negroes swarm the streets like rats!”

Papen jumped a bit as Belzig slammed his fist against the window, cracking it. Blood began to drip from the Major’s knuckles and he held his hand out, allowing one of his SS bodyguards to tend to it.

“Major,” Papen said, treading carefully. “I know the final Stone is here in Atlanta. I will not rest until it has been found. There is no need for you to stay.”

Belzig shrugged his shoulders. “It is no trouble. Besides, the Thule Society astrologers say that this is an important time for all of us. I wish to ensure that nothing goes wrong.” Belzig walked over to Papen, sweeping up the Captain’s shirt in his right hand. He tossed it to Papen and gave a quick nod. “Should you not be dressed by now? It is almost ten in the morning! Being in America so long is making you soft.”

Papen quickly dressed, unhappy that Belzig was now going to be shadowing his every move. He harbored no doubts that the Major would also be happy to share the credit for any successes that occurred.

“The city is a large place,” Belzig said, watching Papen dress with altogether too much interest for Papen’s taste. “Surely you have narrowed it down more than that.”

“Given the sparse nature of the journal, it was difficult to pin down. But I have narrowed it down to a couple of locations.”

“Ah. And what about the Americans you encountered recently? The Professor and his daughter?”

“They’re probably dead. Even if they’re not, they won’t find the Stone before we do. I left men behind to monitor the airfield the professor was trying to reach. Any planes that take off from there that head in this direction will be followed. Once they near Atlanta, my men will shoot them down.”

Belzig said nothing but the expression on his face indicated that he held many doubts about Papen’s ability to succeed. “Let us hope, Captain, that this is done as easily as you seem to think it will be. Otherwise, the repercussions for failure could be… severe.”