The Eye of Odin

Part 5

A grinning skeletal priest presided over our meeting. Harsh electric lanterns were set around the outer rim of the circular room, flooding the area with enough light to dismiss the general creepiness of the abandoned ossuary. Couriers sat in desks along the outer edge of the chamber. A dozen infantrymen stood around, having been recruited from the ranks of the local guard, while two more stood watch in the tunnel beyond. I had set up a large map of France and Germany in front of what had once been an illicit bar hawking banned absinthe.

"Any reports out of the normal, we mark them on the map. This thing is going to register differently than any other weapon in the Hun arsenal," I began, as Wes started placing pins around the map. "An artillery piece was hurled through the air like a child's play thing and landed in a twisted heap a hundred yards away." Another pin went up. "Here, an entire trench work was scoured from the ground as if it had been laced with dynamite." Wes jammed a third and final pin into the surface. "And here, a supply train was hit with enough force in a central car to tear the entire length off of the tracks."

"I've got something here." A burly man in working class clothes said. I had worked with this courier before when we had initially raided the very speakeasy we were seated in. I'd learned his name was Geoffrey Reynolds. "A bridge was destroyed across the Meuse River. Witnesses say it exploded straight into the air at the center." He held aloft a report contained within a manila folder.

"Perfect," I said, spinning to point two fingers at the man. Wes walked over to accept the folder from Reynolds, and after checking within, added a pin to the map.

"What exactly are we dealing with here?" asked a tall man, about the same height as Wes but with dark hair slicked back.

"A highly dangerous German agent, Reinhardt Schuntzel.," I said, "Knowledgeable in the occult and guerilla tactics, he's using a relic by the name of the Eye of Odin. Exact specifications are unknown, but the destructive potential is obviously significant."

The tall man nodded, sitting back at his desk.

"We can already see a pattern emerging here." I jabbed at the map, showing where the artillery had been stationed, the train and bridge both connected, and that the trench works had been the very front line. "This suggests to me Schuntzel is trying to seize the area. If he can punch through the front, the Huns will be able to roll up behind trenches from Verdun to Lorraine. We can't let that happen. We're going to be on site, ready to respond when he makes his move."

"Do we know how to neutralize this Eye?" someone called out from the far end of the room.

"No," I answered frankly, crossing my arms over my chest. "Our only advantage beyond the average unit at the front is that we know the nature of the relic. He's only one man. If we can take him out, we can reclaim the Eye."

A nervous murmur passed through the assembled crowd, and I remained silent with my lips pursed tightly. I had anticipated trouble, a woman trying to lead a group of men in a stressful situation. If things went poorly, it was possible the entire courier service would reject my plan, and we'd be left with petty squabbling that could cost us the war. Long, silent seconds ticked on until the burly courier, Reynolds, spoke up.

"Well hell, it's better than I would have come up with." The feet of his chair scraped against the floor as he threw it back in the process of standing.

"No worse than I'm used to dealing with," the tall courier agreed, "When do we leave?"

Relief flooded through me, and I saw that Wes was similarly drained of tension. The mood of the room shifted from nervousness to energetic, and I grabbed a packet of train vouchers from the desk behind me.