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Book: The Green Lama: Unbound (The Green Lama Legacy Book 3) by Adam Lance Garcia
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Authors: Adam Lance Garcia
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relaxed, her shoulders slumped. “Forget,” she whispered.
Aïas frowned at Jean, dissatisfied with himself. “Good, now wake up,” he commanded, his voice beginning to lose its resonance. He blinked and the world quickly regained it focus and substance.
Jean’s face relaxed and she woke from her daze. She absently wiped away the remaining tears from her cheeks and looked sternly up at Aïas. “Who told you could get so close?” she said, pushing him away, once again sounding like herself.
Aïas chuckled lightheartedly. “Sorry. You fell asleep. We need to get moving before the sun rises, we have still got a long trip ahead of us.”
“Great. More walking,” she groaned.
As she followed after Aïas, Jean felt a small tingling moving around in the back of her mind, like an itch she couldn’t scratch, but every time she tried to pinpoint it and nail it down, all she could think about was how good her leg felt, as if it had never been injured at all.
C HAPTER 5
INCOGNITO
There is no night at the top of the world, just stars and the bitter, unrelenting cold; the latter of which Jethro Dumont was suffering firsthand.
“‘Endurance is one of the most difficult disciplines, but the final victory comes to the one who endures, ’” Tsarong had said before shutting the doors to the Temple of the Clouds, leaving the half-naked Dumont alone to the elements. A storm had passed through during the day, dropping a foot-thick white blanket across the world. But while the snowfall had stopped, the wind refused to die down, howling ferociously through the mountains.
“‘I’ll go to Tibet to find clarity. I’ll discover my purpose there.’ Jesus Christ, Jethro, you’re an idiot. Second only to dating Lillian Gish, this is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” he grumbled to himself, his teeth chattering as he stumbled through the snow, hugging himself to retain what little warmth he could. “Goddamn, it’s cold.”
He could feel his toes begin to freeze; it was only a matter of time before they started to fall off. How long could he survive out here, he wondered? Three hours? Two? Hell, it would be a miracle if he could make it past one. He needed to find shelter.
After several minutes of wandering he came upon a small cliff. Though his joints were almost frozen, he was able to pull himself over the bluff and onto the plateau, where he fell face first into the snow. Pushing himself up, he could hear the harsh roar of the wind relentlessly flowing over the mountain, forcing the air out of his lungs. Gasping, he didn’t hear the soft footsteps and low growl of the snow leopard, and it wasn’t until the beast’s claws dug into his skin that Jethro realized what was happening.
• • •
“I have a bad feeling about this, sir,” the Oberführer repeated as they entered their impromptu headquarters outside the city. The tent walls were covered in maps and charts, pinpricked with small flags and written over with arrows and numbers. A long table sat at one end, while smaller ones lined the temporary structure, each laden with radios, typewriters, and other tools.
“As you’ve mentioned, Herr Oberführer,” Gottschalk said with little effort to mask his annoyance as he moved toward a chair at the far end. “It has been noted.”
“Though I am loathe to admit it,” Sturmbannführer Hirsch said, picking at his acne scars as he followed the others in, “I must agree with the Oberführer. This is a fool’s errand.”
The Oberführer gave Hirsch an appreciative—albeit cursory—nod. “We have aligned ourselves with a petty thug, a petty Greek thug, and for what purpose?” He waved his hands in frustration. “We should be focusing our attentions on the upcoming—”
Gottschalk raised a cautionary finger. “The Führer has ordered us here and we shall do as he commands. Besides, it is not for this ‘petty thug’ that we are here, but rather his two associates.” He crossed his legs, then
Aïas frowned at Jean, dissatisfied with himself. “Good, now wake up,” he commanded, his voice beginning to lose its resonance. He blinked and the world quickly regained it focus and substance.
Jean’s face relaxed and she woke from her daze. She absently wiped away the remaining tears from her cheeks and looked sternly up at Aïas. “Who told you could get so close?” she said, pushing him away, once again sounding like herself.
Aïas chuckled lightheartedly. “Sorry. You fell asleep. We need to get moving before the sun rises, we have still got a long trip ahead of us.”
“Great. More walking,” she groaned.
As she followed after Aïas, Jean felt a small tingling moving around in the back of her mind, like an itch she couldn’t scratch, but every time she tried to pinpoint it and nail it down, all she could think about was how good her leg felt, as if it had never been injured at all.
C HAPTER 5
INCOGNITO
There is no night at the top of the world, just stars and the bitter, unrelenting cold; the latter of which Jethro Dumont was suffering firsthand.
“‘Endurance is one of the most difficult disciplines, but the final victory comes to the one who endures, ’” Tsarong had said before shutting the doors to the Temple of the Clouds, leaving the half-naked Dumont alone to the elements. A storm had passed through during the day, dropping a foot-thick white blanket across the world. But while the snowfall had stopped, the wind refused to die down, howling ferociously through the mountains.
“‘I’ll go to Tibet to find clarity. I’ll discover my purpose there.’ Jesus Christ, Jethro, you’re an idiot. Second only to dating Lillian Gish, this is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” he grumbled to himself, his teeth chattering as he stumbled through the snow, hugging himself to retain what little warmth he could. “Goddamn, it’s cold.”
He could feel his toes begin to freeze; it was only a matter of time before they started to fall off. How long could he survive out here, he wondered? Three hours? Two? Hell, it would be a miracle if he could make it past one. He needed to find shelter.
After several minutes of wandering he came upon a small cliff. Though his joints were almost frozen, he was able to pull himself over the bluff and onto the plateau, where he fell face first into the snow. Pushing himself up, he could hear the harsh roar of the wind relentlessly flowing over the mountain, forcing the air out of his lungs. Gasping, he didn’t hear the soft footsteps and low growl of the snow leopard, and it wasn’t until the beast’s claws dug into his skin that Jethro realized what was happening.
• • •
“I have a bad feeling about this, sir,” the Oberführer repeated as they entered their impromptu headquarters outside the city. The tent walls were covered in maps and charts, pinpricked with small flags and written over with arrows and numbers. A long table sat at one end, while smaller ones lined the temporary structure, each laden with radios, typewriters, and other tools.
“As you’ve mentioned, Herr Oberführer,” Gottschalk said with little effort to mask his annoyance as he moved toward a chair at the far end. “It has been noted.”
“Though I am loathe to admit it,” Sturmbannführer Hirsch said, picking at his acne scars as he followed the others in, “I must agree with the Oberführer. This is a fool’s errand.”
The Oberführer gave Hirsch an appreciative—albeit cursory—nod. “We have aligned ourselves with a petty thug, a petty Greek thug, and for what purpose?” He waved his hands in frustration. “We should be focusing our attentions on the upcoming—”
Gottschalk raised a cautionary finger. “The Führer has ordered us here and we shall do as he commands. Besides, it is not for this ‘petty thug’ that we are here, but rather his two associates.” He crossed his legs, then
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