Chapter Seventeen The Lewis List: “Strategy”

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(Photo by Zoe Holling on Unsplash)

Imam Demir floated on the currents and delighted in the sensation of flight in the grey and black body of the hooded raven. The moment The Maid of Orleans had begun praising Jesus the demons had fled and Demir understood the necessity of flight…literally. Looking up into the trees he saw the hooded raven picking at a walnut with a twig and projected himself into the bird and commanded it to fly.

Demir sang songs of Allah and the blood of the infidels he would spill as he wove through the clouds towards the village of Great Rollright. The sun had set and the wind from the Atlantic on Demir’s left wing picked up as a storm front began to roll over the English countryside. The Raven seemed not to mind the wind and pressed on with only a few emphatic nudges from his passenger. Eventually, Demir could see the barn and buildings of the farm where the Ebbinghous Battalion and Sturmbannfuhrer Benjamin MacBeth were preparing for their eventual mission. He knew he would have to answer questions about his own role in the reconnaissance of the doings of the Fellowship. But, Macbeth’s anger would be dealt with quickly as the information of the interesting people assembled by the Fellowship was revealed. “Who was that Bronze man and that giant black man?” Demir thought. “I know of the others. Legend speaks of the King Arthur and the small child that fought like a man in France. These I have heard of. So the Christian God continues to resurrect people from the past to fight us. So be it. Amen as the infidels say. But, they have no clue that we are here on their very doorstep. And, soon the head of the crusader beast will be severed. This man should no more have been a king than his brother who he had replaced. No matter! He will die just as the other would have died.”

As the last thought left his consciousness, the raven settled before the doorstep of the farmhouse. And, instantly he stepped out of the Raven and dismissed it. And, as he stepped to the door the Raven staggered away dazed and exhausted as if it were a drunken sailor.

Demir opened the door and stepped into the living room of the farmhouse. The Kommando was gathered around the building and the kitchen. Dinner was finished and Macbeth and Delbart Tesch and the different squad leaders were seated around a large table with a map as a trio of privates efficiently worked on cleaning the leftovers of dinner in the kitchen. Everything stopped as every eye in the room turned towards the small man with the cane standing inside the door.

The Imam walked over to where Macbeth sat, “Food immediately!” He called towards the kitchen and then sat in a chair quickly abandoned by one of the squad leaders. “We may have to adjust our plans. The Fellowship has brought in unknowns. This will require more information.” A private brought a plate of bratwurst and sauerkraut to the Imam who looked at the food with disgust. “Is this food Halal?”

Receiving a blank stare from the private he repeated himself, “I need purity. Pure food!” His anger beginning to rise up into an uncontrollable rage, the door to the kitchen opened and Hilel Cady walked through the door with a covered tray of chicken and rice cooked by the two Bosniaks.

Cady walked up to the Imam and bowed low and whispered, “As-salāmu ʿalaykum, Imam your food.”

The Imam grabbed the plate and began to eat with the appetite of a starving man. The supernatural efforts expended during the fight at the Eagle and Child and the flight back to Great Rollright against the wind created a voracious appetite. He scooped the food with his fingers and crammed the food in as fast as he could swallow. The private brought him a large stein of water and watched as the Imam drank two steins one right after the other. No one in the room said a word as he stuffed himself. The sounds made as the Imam ate were angry and primordial. In only a few minutes the food disappeared and he held out the plate to Cady as if to say dispose of this.

Immediately, the Imam stood and moved around the table to look at the maps arranged in the center. “Where are you planning on ambushing the king? Has there been any contact with our men in London? Any chance to catch the King with the new Prime Minister. That genetically deficient gnome of a man? What a coup that would be if we could catch the two together and eliminate the complete leadership of the beast.”

“Yes, we have a communique from him. Their new intelligence contact – their spy – with the Americans is assembling teams of covert operatives for the coming war. That genetically deficient gnome you talk about has a name and his name is Winston Churchill. He not well liked, but from what our man has told us, he is aggressive and warlike and not likely to stand down from the Reich. The American Spy is a businessman from Canada. He has extensive contacts around the world and understands the Islamic mindset. So he will not be an easy target. The American President trusts this man and he has the same energy and determination as you do. But, our man says that there are rumors that the King, Churchill and the American President will be meeting soon to discuss America’s assistance to England. We were in the process of attempting to determine where such a meeting might take place. So far our only idea is to perhaps capture this American Spy and force him to reveal the plans America has for England.”

“Excellent!” The Imam straightened and looked around the room at the magnificent specimens of warriors assembled. They may not be Muslim warriors, but they were impressive none the less. And, their fanatical loyalty to Macbeth was a testament to the training they had gone through. Demir thought that if he had ten thousand of these men he could conquer the world. No wonder the maniac Hitler was so confident and arrogant. Perhaps his arrogance was more the sign of a true believer walking in his divine destiny. A man worthy of his efforts to destroy the Crusaders. “I will need a squad of your best most innovative men. You and I will make a trip into London to perform reconnaissance of the most likely places for that meeting. And, I want to meet with our contact to look him in the eyes. I want to make sure that he is a true believer and not someone feeding us the kind of information that will bring us to our doom.”

Sturmbannfuhrer Macbeth stood –as did every man in the room – and said, “I will have the men ready in the morning, Imam Demir! Heil Hitler!” His right arm shot out in the Nazi Salute and he waited for the Imam’s response. Which was completely nothing. The Imam merely smiled and then spun on his heel and walked out the door of the farmhouse followed by Hilel Cady.

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen The Lewis List: Bletchley Park

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(Derek’s Note: Bletchley Park was purchased in  May 1938 by Admiral Sir Hugh Sinclair, head of the Secret Intelligence Service(SIS or MI6). He bought the mansion and 58 acres (23 ha) of land for £6,000, using his own money after the Government said they did not have the budget to do so, for use by GC&CS and SIS in the event of war. The time frame for the Lewis List is during this period of 1938; the buildup towards World War II.) 

 

Night fell as the Lorries carrying the Lewis List – as they were now calling themselves – drove onto the grounds of Bletchley Park in the midst of a downpour. The lorries passed a huge mansion and pulled up in front of a number of bungalows. William Stephenson exited his Austin with Margaret and was met by a large Viking of a man dressed in oilskins followed by a squad of men equally large carrying umbrellas and blankets. The List was quickly bundled into one of the huts where a number of women – WRENs (Women’s Royal Naval Service) – efficiently separated the men from the women and escorted each to a different hut for the night.

Jackie found himself in a hut with Arthur and Tecumseh; Doc, Sherlock, Challenger, and Bass were in a hut next door. Ronald, Hugo, and Owen had stayed behind as their responsibilities required their presence. The three had agreed to cover for Jackie’s absence at the college. The Mother, Margaret, King George, and William disappeared into the large mansion across the road.

Once the men were settled in their hut, Jack’s professorial curiosity took over…with a nudge from his imagination…and the questions began to flow. The three men talked until after midnight. Arthur and Tecumseh explained the unique nature of the Graal Corporation and the Fellowship of Those that Remain, to Jack. How the Two Witnesses of Revelation were supported by the Fellowship’s activities throughout history. The main purpose of the Fellowship is to document the crimes of Satan throughout the Church Age. That Jesus’s mother…The Mother Mary…was the head of the Fellowship along with a core group of the original disciples who have been alive since the beginning, and that Father God periodically added to the ranks of Those that Remain. That many of the events in history were incorrect as Satan was actively in the process of rewriting history to remove the witness of Jesus Christ from the history books.

Jack sat mesmerized on his cot wrapped in two soft wool blankets and listened without more than a few questions about how all this was possible without the general public knowing about it. Arthur explained that Graal Corporation was as busy as Satan was in the world’s most intense Psy-Ops battle to sway the hearts and minds of the average human being.

Eventually, the events of the day took over and the lights went out and the three men drifted off into sleep.

At exactly 02:00 AM an intensely bright light exploded on the footpath that ran along the road bordering the boundary of the Park, the light moved with amazing speed down the path illuminating the raindrops in excruciating detail and casting dark contrasting shadows across the lawns of the park. As the light moved to a point opposite to the door of Jackie’s hut it stopped and an excited voice shouted, “Wee Hoo! What a Joy! Thanks for the lift, Fred! You are still the best! Just remember to return the bicycle to the Magdalen College dormitory. I am sure there will be a consternated student if you don’t!” A quieter, but equally excited voice said, “Talley-Ho!”, and the light launched off of the footpath and streaked through the trees and rain into the clouds.

As the light receded a short individual wearing a dark grey full length hooded cloak stepped through the hedge bordering the footpath and walked to the door of the hut. The man stood for a moment before the door with an otherworldly shimmer and steam streaming from his shrouded shoulders. He seemed to be whispering to himself. Then out from the cloak, a dark and gnarly staff was produced. Nearly the same height as the man it had a large white moonstone agate embedded into the top of the staff and bronze cap over the business end of the staff. The staff hovered before the door as he considered knocking, but realizing the time decided against it.

A strong but wiry hand reached out and opened the door and with the confidence of familiarity walked down the hall and across the room until he stood over the form of Arthur Mac Aeden.

The man set his staff against the wall and then pulled his cloak off; all in complete silence. The only sounds in the room being the gentle snoring of Tecumseh and C.S. Lewis. Standing over Arthur was an unremarkable senior citizen. He had close-cropped reddish hair with streaks of grey. His ears were the ears of a wrestler and painful to look at. His eyes were large, round and green and set in a round jovial face that looked like a Scottish Fold Cat or a cross between a Barn Owl and a Librarian. He stood over Arthur for a few moments with the look of a Father standing over his sleeping child. But, then a mischievous smile spread across the round cherubic cheeks and he held his rain-soaked cloak over Arthur and began to shake the water off and onto Arthur’s upturned face.

“What the Devil!!” Arthur came off of the cot with all the instincts that a lifetime of one thousand five hundred years can give and found himself face to face with the owlish intruder. Who immediately grabbed his staff and knocked Arthur on the forehead with the agate and said. “Sit down Arthur! I would have thought I had taught you better! In times of war to keep a better watch on the gates! It was altogether too easy to find you and your resting place. Why I could have been one of those devils that Judas himself is breeding in the dark dungeons of Baghdad or even a dragon…if those even still exist. Well, you catch my meaning.” The old man started to knock Arthur on the head again as if to emphasize his point. But, Arthur managed to grab the staff and stave off the knocking.

Tecumseh and Jack sat up in their cots to witness the bettering of Arthur King of England by a man two thirds his size.

“Merlin!? What are you doing here? Why do you always have to sneak up on me like that? And, how in Jesus name did you know to find us here?” Arthur rubbed the small knot that was developing where Merlin had smacked him.

Without answering the questions from his ancient and hereditary king, Merlin stepped over to Tecumseh and held his hand out. “It is a pleasure to see you again Tecumseh. It has been altogether too long. I didn’t get the opportunity last time to tell you how much I admired your brother. I think we would have gotten along quite well. His grasp of what Creator originally wanted for the land was profound. Too bad he was a bit of a hot head, wouldn’t you say? Anyway, I am glad that you are along for this ride, to keep an eye on my young charge here.” Merlin nodded in Arthur’s general direction.

Then he turned and leaned close to Jack’s face. “So you are the writer that Fred and The King of Creation have chosen to lead this enterprise. Pleased to finally meet you.” Merlin stuck his hand out and leaned in even closer and with a conspiratorial whisper he asked, “Any chance you could write me into one of your stories? Would love to get to know Aslan on a face to face basis.”

“You’re Merlin?” Jack asked now fully awake.

“In the flesh as they say in all the classic novels. I’m a big fan, by the way! Have all your books in my library at Baker Street. I hear that The King brought Sherlock Holmes to life. Big Fan, Big Fan! I’m somewhat of a sleuth myself. Kind of helps being a wizard and all. Of course, I only get to use my skills when Jesus allows it. But, that’s not so bad. Next to Jesus, there are not many that I call family. Arthur is one, and my oldest friend. We both came into the Fellowship at about the same time. Jackie, is there anything in this hovel to eat? The RAF give you men anything that could be considered victuals?” Merlin held his staff up over his head and the agate blazed forth with a brilliant and glorious rainbow of colors that played over the walls, beds, and windows allowing Merlin to give a visual once-over to the barracks.

Jack looked over at Tecumseh and recognized a look of awe on his face. But, Arthur’s was more a look of exasperation. Similar to when a parent misbehaves in front of his teenage children when their friends are over for lunch.

“Okay, Grandpa!” Arthur sighed. “Let’s go over to the kitchen and see what the cooks have stashed in the icebox. Not everyone can live without sleep like you can. So let’s go so that these two can get some shut-eye. Shall we?” Arthur finished putting on his boots and held his arm out towards the door in an invitation for Merlin to lead the way. No doubt in his mind that he already knew exactly where to find the kitchen.

Merlin grabbed his cloak and expertly threw it over his head and shoulders. “Oh hey Arthur, do you think they’ve got any Haggis?” He asked as the two of them stepped into the now gentle drizzle.