Dietrich

Desert rats!

Once again Troy and his men have escaped me. It was a perfect trap, leaking news that we were seeking something at that accursed city. For all the legends of gold, we found nothing, although we did capture the patrol. Then the radio message came in and I was sending out men to check on a dead end.

Troy glared at me as he was tied to the tent pole. "My man need a doctor." He referred to the private whose arm broke as he was thrown from his vehicle.

"When we get to town. For now he will survive, as we both know."

"Someplace to go?"

Damn his inquisitiveness. I ignored the American as my men made certain they were well secured. "You have no need to know, Sgt. We will be gone for a few hours. There are many of our Arab friends to keep you here, especially with Pvt. Tully damaged. Patience, Sgt. I will be back soon enough to deal with you."

"No gold, huh?"

I restrained the instinct to strike him before I left with my men. I knew I should have left my men to guard them, but as short handed as we are I could not spare even one with message to find a tribe that knew the directions to where another of His desires lay. I am tiring of the demands that we prosecute a war and search for every legenday item that is wanted back in Berlin. The wadi we went to was a dead end. The entire tribe was dead, the bodies lying in grotesque tangles in the sand, fouling the water of the oasis.

"Hauptman, this is … have you noticed? There are no women. No female children. No female animals. This is not the work of another tribe." Gustave shuddered and crossed himself. Not an action I would have expected.

I agreed that it was odd. "There are tracks leading north. Follow them."

Gustave and the others snapped to, boarding their vehicles swiftly. Apparently we all wanted to wipe the scene from our eyes. I gave no thought to burying the dead. Perhaps I should have.

We lost the tracks in the sand, casting about across hard areas to see if we could pick them up again. By dusk, we were too far out to get back to camp, so I ordered the men to set up camp. We slept in our vehicles until sunrise. Driving at night on the dunes, even with moonlight, is not safe.

At Hamunaptra there was nothing but a row of burials. The night winds erased any trail that might have helped us. The tents were gone along with the food and water. Furniture remained looking forlorn and abandoned. I ordered the men to load the remaining items up. We would return to the town where our supplies were stored and pick up new material before heading to this mythical oasis. The patter of sand where there is no breeze is getting on my nerves.

As for the wadi, I fear that there is something going on in this desert, something no German should be involved in. We took a route that should have taken us past the spot again. We found the water hole that supplies the place and nothing else, not even a sign that someone else had buried the dead.

Now I have orders to find the Oasis at Ahm Shere and to bring back an ancient artifact that will summon a horde of warriors like no others. I have my orders but no map and only very basic information on where this oasis was; somewhere along the Blue Nile. The tribesmen are dead, probably at the hands of those annoying Americans. Although it is unlike them to have used only blades to kill. How they took the tents and the rest of my supplies, I do not know. Next time I will not leave that damned patrol in other hands. No, next time I will dispose of Sgt. Troy and his men, and that will be an end of it. There is no information they could have that is worth the time and effort I have put into attempting to capture and detain them. Now, all I have is an empty desert and a demand that I find whatever relic of supposed power might be at a mythical oasis. I am growing weary of this war.

"Move out!"