Read The Mountain: An Event Group Thriller Online

Authors: David L. Golemon

Tags: #United States, #Military, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #War & Military, #Action & Adventure, #Thriller & Suspense, #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Adventure, #Thriller, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Crime, #War, #Mystery

The Mountain: An Event Group Thriller (24 page)

BOOK: The Mountain: An Event Group Thriller
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“Sergeant Major, get the men off the train, quickly. Get them lined up and into the woods. Post the marine pickets. Nothing gets inside the perimeter, and especially nothing out, understand?”

“Not at all,” he said angrily as he quickly moved out.

“What have we got?” a voice said from behind.

Taylor’s question was a loaded one. As Thomas turned to face him he gestured.

“Some congressman has gotten wind of the shipment from Fort Lafayette and is throwing a fit about the illegal transport of prisoners without authorization from the war department.”

“I thought the war department was in on this,” Taylor said as he hopped from the train car and started to assist in unlocking his men. “They probably believe they were brought to the woods to be shot and buried.”

“They are aware, but they can’t get caught up in this because they could never explain it properly. They would rather do this thing covertly until it all blows up royally in their faces.”

“The congressman is aware of your destination.”

Thomas looked at the young lieutenant and then crumpled the message. “Get the wagons up here immediately. Is there a hospital near the harbor where they treat war wounded?”

The cavalryman looked confused. “We have three doctors standing by at the pier, sir,” he answered.

“Lieutenant, is there a hospital near the docks where the casualties from the front are being treated or buried?”

“Yes, sir. Camp Monroe serves as the main hospital.”

“Good,” he stepped up to the young officer and spoke to him in a whisper. Taylor saw the cavalryman looking shocked at his new orders, and then he suddenly turned his mount and bolted off to the south with the very confused look still on his face.

“What are you up to? I don’t believe you can disguise these men. A blind person would be able to tell who they are.”

“No, I can’t disguise them, so we have to actually turn them into something they are not.”

Taylor saw Thomas deep in thought and knew the colonel had a plan. His eyes would always light up when he had thought something through.

“Are you going to let me in on your plan, especially since it’s my men with everything to lose?”

“Well,” John Henry said as he faced Taylor, “it may well be we have to kill you anyway.” He winked and then stepped up to assist in unloading the weakened men.

Taylor was stunned at the wink and smile of Thomas, but he thought he was beginning to see how his men would be allowed into Baltimore.

“Sergeant Major Dugan, Lieutenant Parnell will be in command, but you take charge of the prisoners and get them into the woods and march them as quietly as possible to the docks.” He looked from Dugan to the young marine lieutenant. “Mr. Parnell, your job is to get this command into the dock area without being caught. Can the Marine Corps do that?”

“That and much more, Colonel,” Parnell said as he briskly saluted. He jumped on the large roan mount and started guiding the tired and worn men into the roadway alongside the railroad line. The rest of the marine detail was broken into two groups. One would accompany Thomas, the other Dugan and Parnell.

BALTIMORE, MARYLAND

Claire Richelieu and Lars Ollafson stood by the entrance to the U.S. Navy dry-dock area where they had been instructed to wait. Claire nervously looked around, feeling vulnerable as she waited beside the professor and their silent entourage of equipment and luggage. Her eyes often roamed over to the leather case that held the petrified wood with the Angelic curse. She forced back a shiver as she looked up and saw the fog start to roll in off the Chesapeake. Ollafson looked at his watch when they heard the sound of horses coming their way.

“I was beginning to worry we were going to be left behind. It’s—”

“Hush, Professor,” Claire said as she stepped forward and placed a hand on Ollafson’s shoulder to quiet him. “Those are carriages, not a military unit coming,” she said as her eyes studied the gateway beyond the front of the dock area. The naval guards at the gate heard the same as they stepped expectantly from their small shack.

“Suddenly you are an expert—”

The professor stopped when he saw two carriages filled with men stop at the gate. An unseen man inside the first carriage spoke some harsh words to the two navy men. Then from behind the twin carriages there was the sound of many footsteps as ten men left the rolling fogbank and stood beside the carriages and the two guards. Claire could hear one of the naval personnel explain that the dock area was closed to all civilians. She heard the angry protest from within the carriage, and then she saw the footman hop from the top seat and quickly open the door for the robust man who stepped from its interior.

“Oh, my God, that’s Senator Harriman, I believe. Not a very nice man,” Ollafson said, worried that their plans had been leaked.

Claire was well aware who the Democratic leader from Indiana was. The man was a staunch advocate of hanging every southern leader and commander when the war was completed and the South totally destroyed. The man was Lincoln’s staunchest enemy when it came to the way the president conducted the running of the war. A complete and utter follower of one general in particular: George McClellan. Claire was beginning to smell a rat, and the smell was familiar to her.

“Inopportune timing, I would say,” came the voice from behind them.

Claire and Ollafson turned and saw the speaker. There was another man standing right behind him. Claire knew he had been there all the while and was forever undressing her with his eyes. Captain Paul Renaud of the French army stepped up and dipped his hat and head at them both. The man was expertly dressed in his new traveling clothes.

Claire closed her eyes when she realized who it was. She stepped up to the smaller man and leaned into him. She made sure Ollafson was not in hearing distance.

“This is too bold a move even for you. Are you insane?”

Renaud tossed his half-smoked cigar into the foul waters of the docks and then smiled. “Why? I am a history expert by trade, and my credentials, at least for the moment, are impeccable.” The arrogant man smiled and then whispered, “Madame, you did not really believe I would leave this in your hands, did you? My superiors in France were not very impressed with the way that old man kept certain things from you in his research. They thought a more experienced set of eyes should be on hand. So, here I am, ready to do my part as ordered by the U.S. War Department.” Renaud brought out a set of forged orders that were perfect in every detail, even countersigned by Stanton himself.

“Those had better be perfect. This Colonel Thomas is no man’s fool. The president picked him for this assignment for a reason.” She smiled halfheartedly even though the man before her terrified her. “He will smell a rat.”

“He would only smell a stupid rat, Madame. I, on the other hand, am a smart rat.”

“Excuse me, but who is this man, Claire?” Ollafson asked as he placed the pocketwatch back into his vest.

“Benton Cromwell, Professor Ollafson,” Renaud said. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Claire turned to Ollafson with a smile. He says he’s been assigned by the war department as their specialist on historic locations.”

“I think we should all wait for Colonel Thomas for the introductions. After all, it looks as though we may have a problem brewing here.”

Claire again turned to the Frenchman. “Why do I smell your work in this?”

“Not I, dearest Claire, but we did intercept a communiqué from London expressing the desire of Her Royal Majesty Victoria that the expedition be slowed somewhat. I suspect our British friends are behind this little commotion. Now I guess we’ll see if your Mr. Lincoln chose the right man for his adventure.”

The two naval guards had given up as the large round man burst past them and was joined by other men as he came through the gate. The men with him were the capital police force for this district.

“I’m Senator Marcus Harriman. I want to see the man in charge.”

Claire and Professor Ollafson were silent as the large man with the brown beard started wagging a rather large cigar in their faces. It was Renaud who intervened.

“Perhaps you should pester someone with a uniform on, sir. They would more than likely be the person in charge, not a woman and an old man,” he said as he confronted the much smaller senator.

“Then I pose my inquiry to you, sir. Who is in charge here?”

Renaud smiled arrogantly. “Why, I assure you I haven’t faintest idea, sir.”

“Has the entire army gone mad?” The senator bit down on his cigar and then turned and faced the woman and older man. “You I know,” he said, jabbing his cigar at Professor Ollafson, who flinched away from it. Claire took a protective step toward the blustery man in the hundred-dollar suit. “Now, tell me where I can find”—he pulled out a paper from his suit jacket and then adjusted it to read in the weak light of the dock area—“Colonel Thomas. The man absconded with over a hundred Confederate prisoners of war from New York this morning and I want to know who authorized this transfer, which took place in the middle of an escape attempt investigation that was being conducted by the camp’s commander.”

“I assure you, sir, we have no clue as to what it is you speak of,” Claire said, for Ollafson was looking quite intimidated. She was beginning to wonder just where Colonel Thomas was. She had a feeling this man was used to getting what he wanted.

“Goddamn army thinks they can do whatever they want!”

Renaud knew immediately that this Senator Harriman was in the well-lined pockets of the British government and that he had been sent to at least slow the start of this curious mission or to stop it completely. The British were always so proper in their methods, never using the head-on approach of men such as himself.

Suddenly the sound of horses and wagon wheels echoed through the fog. Claire bit her lower lip, knowing that it was Thomas and his new acquisitions coming into the dock area. The colonel was walking directly into a trap, and if he was caught with Rebel prisoners of war, and if the reason for it became public knowledge, Lincoln could never survive the scandal and he would most assuredly lose the upcoming election to that pompous little ass, McClellan. Yes, Harriman was going for broke in his attempt to embarrass the president.

“Hah, I knew he would be arrogant enough to come right through the front gate with his escapees. The man will hang for this.” Harriman tossed the cigar away and then turned to two of the capitol policemen. “Arrest these three,” he said as he started for the wagons that had stopped at the gate.

One of the two policemen moved his rifle to port arms and the other approached the man in the army uniform first. He started to reach for his arm, but Renaud just smiled.

“If you so much as touch me, I will kill you.” He glared down at the policeman who was looking at him with apprehension. “And your companion. I would suggest waiting to see how this plays out before you commit yourself to this course of action. It could be beneficial to know if you backed the wrong horse in this race.”

Harriman, with the other eight policemen in tow, approached the gate, making his bulk seem as imposing as possible. He puffed out his chest as he spied the big man in the saddle of the lead horse. The colonel stared down upon the senator and his bearing gave Harriman a momentary pause. His office had been tipped off to this unprecedented prisoner movement by an unknown source, but as soon as Colonel John Henry Thomas’s name was mentioned, Harriman knew Lincoln was behind whatever was happening. The senator remembered two years before when the president had most illegally saved Thomas from a general court-martial.

“You men spread out and make sure no one exits the rear of those wagons. You, sir. Are you Colonel Thomas?” he asked, hoping his booming voice was as intimidating as it was on the floor of the senate.

John Henry remained silent as he removed his hat and wiped his brow. It had been a harrowing ride for the past hour as he had made his way from the military hospital on the outskirts of Baltimore. His horse was lathered, as well as those of his small command of wagons.

“I believe I asked you a question, sir. Are you Thomas?”

John Henry observed the four people waiting at the entrance to dry-dock seventeen and saw the woman Claire Richelieu looking his way. She seemed worried. He only hoped she and the professor had kept their lips tight thus far so he could get this little ruse to pass muster. He finally stepped down from his horse.

“I’m Thomas,” he said simply as he tied the reins of his horse to the small pommel on the saddle. “What can I help you with?”

“I want the men in those wagons. You absconded with them with no legal order from the prisoner-of-war camp in New York. They are to be returned to that camp immediately and you, sir, are to be placed under arrest, as are these three people.” He gestured toward Claire, Ollafson, and a last man whom Thomas did not know.

“I have orders to deliver my cargo to the docks. I have done so. If you want what’s in those wagons, you are more than welcome to take them off of my hands, Mr.… Mr.—?”

“It’s Senator, Senator Harriman, and I have a warrant signed by a federal judge giving me the right to take what is in those wagons, and to arrest the man responsible for removing the prisoners from New York.”

John Henry slowly removed his gauntlets and then fixed Harriman with his blue-eyed glare. “You want what’s in those wagons? They’re yours, sir. I gladly turn them over.” He mockingly bowed in surrender as Harriman smiled in victory. He would finally hang Lincoln and the out-of-control military that loved him so much.

“Arrest the colonel,” he said as he turned to face the first wagon.

John Henry smiled as the senator left with five of the policemen right behind him. Thomas finally placed his gloves in his belt and watched the first policeman hesitantly approach him, holding a set of wrist restraints. John Henry’s smile widened.

“Oh, damn! We didn’t get too far, did we?” Ollafson said as the first wagon’s rear tarp was thrown aside.

Claire was as worried as Ollafson, but Renaud watched John Henry Thomas and smiled as he guessed at what was happening.

BOOK: The Mountain: An Event Group Thriller
3.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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