Quinn Chapman and the Altar of Evil II 

Lhasa, Tibet

Many days passed in idle darkness as I was rough handled by the German goons. I was passed from plane to plane and then onto to the icy steel bed of a truck as we delved through the intricacies of travel across the Orient into the forbidden Kingdom of Tibet.

The truck rumbled up ruinous paths which clung precariously to the very edge of perilous defiles and onward into the mountains.

Progress was slow and, in my captivity, I feigned sleep in an attempt to eavesdrop on the plans of my captors. I had learned German during the War, but my captors were unaware of my linguistic abilities. From their conversations, I gathered that they planned to have me lead them to the maratakam and then to cut my life off prematurely. Not only that, which I suspected already, but these Germans were part of the new power in Germany, and they were gathering treasures and occult artifacts from around the globe. For what purpose they did not discuss, but the power held within some of these artifacts made their purpose evident to me.

When finally, the truck ground to halt for the last time, I was ripped from the frigid embrace of the truck bed and my blindfold torn free. The luminant radiance of the high-altitude sun blinded me to my surroundings, but the thin air that filled my lungs and the bitter chill of the wind led me to believe we had entered Lhasa, the capital of Tibet.

My vision crept back from the brink and beheld the populous sprawl of Lhasa creeping across the valley below. The Potala Palace stood above all as a Himalayan Mount Olympus, home of the gods. As I gazed across the vista before me, the gorilla face of Klaus interrupted the view as he thrust a brown, hooded robe into my hands. The same such robe was being donned by cadaverous Captain Braune and then by Klaus. We would enter the city as pilgrims seeking enlightenment.

With my knowledge of the local language and culture, I made a passable imitation of a pilgrim seeking enlightenment. My involuntary companions kept silent, allowing me to lead them through the cool dusty streets of stone and to arrange a guide. I complied, only as long as the barrels of their guns were pressed to my back.

Around us stretched the withering heights of the mighty Himalayas, from which ushered forth the first tides of winter. The chill breeze danced through the streets and plazas, whipping and pulling at the multicolored prayer flags that abided upon every wall.

The papery air drew gasping breaths from those men not accustomed to its rarity. I had spent some time in the lofty peaks of the Andes, mountaineering being somewhat of a hobby of mine, and found myself acclimating with little effort. The Germans could not say the same, even the hulking figure of Klaus wheezed and took shorter steps.

Here now was my long-awaited opportunity to escape the clutches of these Huns. To do so, I turned up the steepest and longest street I could find, right up the mountain side on an endless flight of stairs. I picked up my pace, taking two stairs at a time.

Klaus reached for me by the shoulder, as he did, I spun with his pull and rammed my elbow into his steely jaw. The force was such that even the giant staggered to the whitewashed wall beside him, spraying blood across the canvas. The thin air seemed to have sapped some of his herculean strength.

I wasted no time and shot up the stone stairs like a jack rabbit as Captain Braune went for his Luger. I heard the man curse and the thunderous roar of the Germanic giant in hot pursuit.

They dared not fire on me, save as a last resort, for they would give away their presence in the forbidden kingdom. That they were not ready to do as no blistering fire tore through me as I made my escape.

I leapt the last three steps and into a bazaar teeming with pilgrims and native Tibetans. I pushed through the milling throng, losing myself amongst the masses. My disguise allowed me to blend in perfectly and instead of heading directly away from my pursuers, I turned into a market stall and watched warily as Klaus passed me by. The crowd parted around his elephantine visage allowing a clear path for the rat-like countenance of Captain Braune to follow.

When the crowd closed in again, I ducked low and sped off away from the market. in the opposite direction of the erstwhile hunters. Finding the nearest alley was not an issue as the city was a warren of dark chasms. I stepped lithely toward the opening, but as I did so the hairs stood stiff on the back of my neck. I turned back to the din and found only common hawkers. and robed pilgrims pushing their way past the fervorous attempts of the peddlers.

My nerves had gotten the better of me for there was no one in pursuit. I struck out into the shaded corridor of stone, but my acute senses would not relent. In only a few hundred feet, I found myself in the smothering confines of a small plaza.

I was no longer alone. Wraiths moved in shadowed alcoves and malicious eyes burned into me.

Ghostly figures, robed in shadows converged upon me from out of the numerous tributaries of alleyways. Were these more Germans wreathed in a makeshift facade? This I did not know, nor did it matter in the moment. Yet for the unheard-of fear in my heart, I did not believe they were.

I struck out with fist and foot, deflecting the writhing reach of these new mysterious adversaries. I was rewarded with grunts and groans of human pain beneath the midnight robes as I escaped them into the narrow thoroughfare.

Try as I might, going left and then right, I could not lose my pursuers in the warrens of Lhasa. They knew this territory better than I and I felt them herding me into a trap.

I turned one last corner to find the way before me blocked by a column of solid stone. To one side stood a red wooden door, which I thrust my might against. The door groaned but stood fast against my furious and desperate onslaught.

There was now no other choice, so I turned to fight, my back to the crimson door and muscles tensed like lion preparing to spring. Surely now the apparitions would converge on me, overwhelming my combat skill with sheer numbers. I vowed to take as many with me as I could and thus readied myself for the charge.

Before I could make my last stand, the doorway behind me opened wide and I was yanked into the glooming unknown.

The door slammed to, and stale darkness enveloped me. I was blind to all around me but felt the presence of another and heard the iron gasp of a blade being drawn from its sheath. I felt the walls pressing in around me, my breathing deepened, and beads of sweat stung my eyes. My muscles tensed as a cornered animal preparing for the last desperate struggle.

Before I could lash out, I felt the icy kiss of steel upon my throat and my hopes of escape and emeralds evaporated like rain in the desert.

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