Free The Green Lama: Horror in Clay (The Green Lama Legacy Book 2) by Adam Lance Garcia

circus singlehandedly was astounding. Though Caraway was still flabbergasted as to how Gan had been able to take down that elephant. That was simply impossible . It had garnered the German officer a begrudging amount of respect from both Caraway and his men, but it secretly made Caraway extremely nervous. If all this talk of another war with Germany held any bearing, and if all of Hitler’s men were as deadly as Gan, then everyone was going to be in serious trouble…
    For now, though, all that mattered was the case.
    Galloping toward the German colonel, Caraway outstretched his hand and shouted: “GAN!!!”
    Gan ceased firing long enough to see Caraway approaching. Quickly surmising his intent, Gan holstered his pistols, reached out, and without pause grabbed Caraway’s extended hand and swung onto the horse.
    “You ready to go hunting?” Caraway shouted.
    “Is that what you call this catastrophe?!”
    Caraway shook his head as they galloped toward cover, a sardonic smile on his lips. “No, I just call it ‘another night in New York City.’”
    “You lead a very strange life, Herr Leutnant.”
    “Don’t I know it,” Caraway said as he brought the horse to a halt in a far corner of the bank out of range of the arrows and gunfire.
    “Dare I ask if you have a plan?” Gan asked, using the momentary reprieve to reload his guns.
    Caraway frowned at the question. “At the moment? No.”
    “That is a shock,” Gan said as he finished reloading, making a show of it as he holstered the weapons. “So, we will just head straight into this madness and pray for the best.”
    Caraway shrugged. “Basically.”
    “Fantastic,” Gan grumbled. “You are going to be the death of me, Herr Leutnant.”
    A crooked smile formed on Caraway’s face. “Heh. Here’s hoping.” He spurred the horse back toward the center of the embattled bank. As they rushed toward their quarry, Caraway angled his head back toward Gan, shouting over the noise of gunfire and the whooping calls of faux Indians. “Hey, Gan. Just in case this doesn’t go so well, I’ve been meaning to ask, how’d you take down that elephant?”
    “And give away my trade secrets? I think not, Herr Leutnant.”
    “Fine, then, be that way. Here, take the reins,” he said as began to stand up on the saddle.
    “What are you doing?” Gan asked as he grabbed hold of the reins, a slight note of panic in his voice.
    “Me?” Caraway said as he steadied himself. “I have no idea.”
    He glanced up and found one. Biting back a smile, Caraway readied himself. He’d seen the Green Lama do stuff like this all the time, why wouldn’t it work for him? The Green Lama may be a superman, but he was still a man. Murmuring “ Om! Ma-ni Pad-me Hum! ” for luck more than anything else, Caraway leapt off the horse into the air, aiming for the gilded chandelier overhead. Grabbing onto the ornate metal, he swung himself feet first, landing beside Adair on the teller’s counter.
    “Hey there, Tonto,” Caraway said before he punched the costumed criminal square in the jaw.
    Adair stumbled back, but didn’t fall down. Wiping the blood off his lips, he gave Caraway a toothy grin. “Bad move there, coppa. Now you done made the Injun mad,” he said with a thick Irish brogue.
    “Whitest Red I’ve ever seen, boyo.”
    “Yeah?” Adair reached behind his back and unsheathed a fairly impressive sword. “Well, I’m also the deadliest, see? So you best be backin’ off.”
    Caraway raised an eyebrow as he scrutinized the mobster’s sword. “I’m no scholar or nothing, but I’m pretty sure Indians don’t have swords.”
    “Be a lot more fun if they did!”
    Adair lunged forward, aiming the business end of the sword at Caraway’s stomach. But Caraway had had his fair share of swords aimed at him since taking command of the Special Crime Squad and knew how to handle such a situation. Caraway quickly sidestepped as the blade powered toward him, letting Adair’s own momentum