5th Column Comics: The Indigo Codex #2 (of 8)
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Lisbon, Portugal – 1942
Despite being neutral, in the war between the Axis and Allied forces, the city of Lisbon was an important place for both sides. In this place of peace, spies from both sides of the war, and over thirty nationalities could be found within spitting distance of each other. This fact was well known to Henrik Von Myers, a tall man with dark hair, and tanned skin, one of the most decorated officers of the Gestapo, when he entered into the British Embassy, his hands raised above his head in a show of surrender, a sharp contrast to the dress uniform he wore. Almost immediately, several rifles were pointed at him, as a portly man in a business suit stood in front of him.
“Von Myers,” The man wheezed, as he remove a cigarette from his jacket, and lit it, before chomping it between his teeth. “This is a bold move, even for such a decorated agent such as you.”
“Major Hotchkiss, we know of you and your work in British Intelligence.” Von Myers replied, as he looked his questioner in the eyes. “I have orders from the Herr Hitler himself to pass on a message to the highest ranking British agent in Lisbon.” He announced, before narrowing his eyes. “This message will be delivered on one condition, that when I am done, you will let me leave freely.”
“You honestly think we’d let you leave, when we have you trapped in here?” Hotchkiss snorted, as he took another deep puff from his cigarette.
“My message may convince you otherwise.” Von Myers stated, “If I am permitted to remove the telegram from my jacket’s front right pocket.” He added, before getting a nod of permission from Major Hotchkiss. Reaching into the jacket pocket, slowly and surely, Von Myers pulled out a neatly folded envelope, which he handed to the nearest soldier, who quickly conveyed it to Hotchkiss. Removing the contents, Hotchkiss quickly read the telegram, before spitting his cigarette onto the floor.
“Escort Mr Von Myers from the premise.” Hotchkiss ordered, as a pair of soldiers walked the German agent from the building. Reading the message again, Hotchkiss stormed out of the chamber, his diner plans ruined.
**
Three hours later, Major Able Hotchkiss was sat at the end of a long table, buried deep in the British Embassies basement, flanked by a telephone operator and his personal secretary, as he waited for results. The other three figures, his top agents in the Mediterranean, recently returned from Egypt after a successful capture of German radio codes, sat waiting anxiously.
“Well RAF reconnaissance out of Malta have confirmed that there is a build-up of German activity in the port city of Pizzo, just as our intelligence reported.” The telephone operator announced, as he put down the receiver.
“Excuse me if I ask,” A blonde haired man, with blue gleaming eyes dressed in a vest and trousers asked. “But where did this intelligence come from.”
“You must not repeat this to anyone outside this room.” Hotchkiss stated nervously, as he looked around at the five other people in the room. “But our intelligence came directly from Adolf Hitler himself, or at least one of his aides. Turns out Hitler believes that a high ranking SS Officer, one Joseph Ruston, has found the grave of the progenitor of the Aryan race, something he believes will sway power from him to Ruston.”
“I remember hearing of a Ruston before the war begun.” Thee blonde haired man announced, “He was described as a fanatic, a man fascinated on the purity of genes, as well as the segregation of the ‘lower races’.” He added, “His Men were involved in the abduction of my wife, despite the government’s claims that the plot was the work of communists and Jews.”
“Mr Lykos’s description of Ruston, is accurate according to how Hitler describes about him.” Hotchkiss stated, “He continues to write, that Herr Ruston is growing in popularity, and that he fears he will soon challenge him for the title of Fhurer.”
“So?” A man with dark hair, clad in an RAF Bomber Jacket and birches asked. “Why should we care who sits in the Reichstag?”
“Because Williams, despite his infernal little mind, we can predict how he will act, what he will do.” Hotchkiss announced. “Ruston is an unknown, and as we all know unknowns are what causes missions to fail.”
“So you need us to infiltrate Pizzo?” The female agent asked, as she straightened the set of overalls she was wearing.
“No, I need you to get to Stromboli that is where Ruston is staying.” Hotchkiss sighed, as he removed a cigarette and lit it. “The island is locked down, arrival is only possible from the E-Boats docked in the harbour at Pizzo.”
“What aren’t you telling us?” Williams asked.
“The island,” Hotchkiss stated, as he flew a stream of smoke out of his lips, “is an active volcano.”
**
Stromboli, Off the Coast of Italy
Coughing and spluttering, Joseph Ruston disembarked off the E-Boat and onto the harbour of San Vincenzo, not bothering to salute the Captain of the garrison, as he passed by ranks of soldiers standing at attention. Stopping by a parked Opal Blitz, Ruston got in, and motioned for the driver to head towards the islands smouldering heart, flashes of red hot ash occasionally erupting from the peak. After a brief drive, the truck came to a stop on a cave bored into the hillside, and Ruston disembarked before marching inside, before coming to a stop in a volcanic chamber.
“Is it ready?” He asked, his voice cold, as a red haired woman clad in a floral print dress waked over, escorted by two guards, their hands hovering over the Lugers holstered on their belts.
“The ‘kranke-mensch’ as you call them,” The woman purred, in an American accent, “have exposed an artefact you may be interested in, something that matches the type of artefact found in Norway.” She added, before waving a hand at the wave of half dressed, wheezing pale skinned workers digging around an oblong shaped casket lined with tubes, all heading down to an as yet unexcavated part of the device.”
“Fraulien Mulholland, is that the artefact that the ancient tablet loaned to the late Herr Morison from the Fort Indigo Museum of Curiosities shows?” Ruston asked.
“I believe so.” Mulholland answered, as she pursed her lips into a pout. “I’m convinced that, what we have here is the Sarcophagus you’ve been looking for.”
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