To Run With the Swift

by Gerald N. Lund

  Again she seemed to be hovering between rationality and rage, but finally, she jerked her head at Niklas. He moved around her to where the computer was and knelt down. He typed something quickly, and both screens lit up. His fingers flew across the keyboard again. Directly behind Gisela’s desk, there was a portion of the library’s wall that was wood paneling rather than bookshelves. A soft sound was heard as, just above eye level, a wooden panel slid open, revealing a large, flat-screen TV. That screen also flickered into life, bringing up this spectacular view of the Swiss Alps in full summer, obviously a screen-saver photo.

  Then it faded away and was replaced by something that made me cry aloud. What we were looking at was a richly furnished room somewhere in the mansion. Dad and Cody sat on a couch. They were handcuffed and blindfolded, with a guard behind them.

  But where is Mom?

  I saw Niklas’s hand move and realized that beside the keyboard there was a small joystick like the ones used in computer games. As if he read my thoughts, Niklas put one hand on the joystick and began to move it. The camera angle changed, panning to the right. I gasped as Mom came into view. She too was blindfolded, but she was sitting in a wheelchair, with both arms strapped down and some kind of metal box on her lap. The camera zoomed in and focused on the box. I had to reach out and steady myself on the desk.

  It was like I was watching some fiendish horror movie. What sat on her lap was some kind of electronic device with numerous wires coming out the one side. And those wires were attached to my mother with sticky pads that had electrical connections to them. It looked like one of the machines they use to monitor your heart, an EKG, I think they call it. But I knew, without the slightest shadow of a doubt, that this machine was not a heart monitor. It did not read electrical impulses. It gave them.

  I fought back the urge to hurl myself across the desk at Gisela. I guess she saw that in my eyes, because she suddenly laughed in my face. “Go ahead, little one. I would love to demonstrate what will happen to your mother if you give in to your mindless anger.”

  “You are a horrible monster,” I cried.

  She leaned in toward me. “Don’t you try to bargain with me like some cheap street vendor. Try to withhold what I ask and your mother will suffer the most exquisite pain imaginable. Give me what I seek and Niklas and I and all the rest of us will be gone before daylight and you will never see us again.”

  Her features were twisted into something fiendish, and the ghoulish effect was only heightened by the swollen face and darkening eyes. “So what will it be, Miss Danni McAllister? I’m done with the games. Must I give you a demonstration to convince you that I am deadly serious here?”

  I sank back into my chair. My chest had constricted so much that I was finding it hard to breathe. But I finally managed to shake my head. “No,” I whispered. “Don’t hurt her. I’ll do whatever you say.”

  “All right!” Niklas crowed. His fingers flew across the keys, and the screen went dark.

  I jerked forward. “No! Leave it on,” I cried. “I have to see them. And if you hurt her—”

  What? What will you do, Danni? Spit in her face? Throw a tantrum?

  To my surprise, Gisela shrugged and nodded at Niklas. “Leave it on. I want her to see that we are keeping our part of the bargain.”

  “Danni.” It was Rick, and his voice was urgent.

  “What?”

  “The machine is a fake. It doesn’t work.”

  I glanced at him, then away quickly. “How do you know that?”

  “Dunno. Just do. She’s just playing with your head again.”

  I wasn’t quite sure whether to accept that or not, but it did infuse me with a burst of hope. Gisela opened a drawer in the desk, reached in, and brought out one of those little electronic dictation recorders. She turned it on and placed it halfway between us. Then she picked up the pouch and placed it in her lap. Her look was one of pure triumph. “You will speak slowly and clearly.”

  My head came up. “No.”

  I thought she was going to choke. “No? You dare to defy me?”

  “I will not be party to the corruption of the pouch and its goodness. I will not.”

  She was momentarily confused. I guess this possibility had never entered her mind. “Then your mother will be destroyed.”

  “No,” I said calmly. “No, she won’t. And neither will we. If you try to call down the forces of darkness upon our heads, they will descend only on you and Niklas and those who serve you.”

  She shot to her feet, her eyes wild. “You dare to defy me?” she shrieked.

  Niklas leaned on the desk, peering into my eyes. “Don’t do this, Danni. She’s not bluffing.”

  I spoke clearly and distinctly, punching out each word with quiet emphasis. “You will not receive one sliver of help from me to work your evil ways. Not one sliver!”

  She straightened slowly, then looked at Doc. “She’s yours, Raul. Do with her what you wish. Jean-Claude, you can have her when he’s done.”

  BAM! We all jumped as one of the library’s side doors slammed open, crashing against the wall. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Raul,” a voice barked.

  Every one of us jerked around. And what we saw was totally astonishing. A tall, male figure stood silhouetted in the doorway. My heart leaped within me as I saw that it was a man fully dressed in the uniform of an American GI, complete in every detail except that he wore no helmet. He stepped into the room and came into the full light. I heard several gasps, none louder than Gisela’s. “You!” she cried, falling back. She grabbed the pouch and clutched it to her chest as if warding off an evil spirit.

  “Yes,” Grandpère replied, his voice soft and filled with menace. “It’s me. Back from the dead, just as you planned.”

  All kinds of things happened all at once then. I spun around, joy lighting up my soul. “Grandpère!” I cried.

  Rick was up beside me, gaping in astonishment.

  Behind me, Doc dropped to one knee. His pistol was already in his hand. BLAM! BLAM! The two shots came so close together as to be one deafening blast. Two bullet holes blossomed in the door just to the left of Grandpère.

  “No!” Gisela screamed. “Don’t shoot him!”

  Jean-Claude was down beside Raul now, taking more careful aim. Grandpère stood there calmly, not moving. Seeing what Jean-Claude was doing, Rick hurled himself at him, both fists locked together in a club. He swung them down with all his strength and knocked Jean-Claude rolling.

  Doc leaped to my side, grabbing me with one arm and putting the pistol barrel to my right temple, grinding it in hard. “If you move, your granddaughter dies.”

  “I wouldn’t try that,” Grandpère said easily. “Hasn’t Jean-Claude told you about the rattlesnakes, Raul? You’re over your head here, son.”

  Gisela’s cries pierced the room. “Put down your weapons, you fools!” she shouted. “Don’t kill him.”

  Grandpère came into the room, his hands raised, walking slowly, but still with that same marvelous calm. “Thank you, Rick. Are you all right?”

  As Rick got to his feet and nodded, Niklas made his move. In one smooth motion, he reached inside his suit jacket, whipped out a pistol—a wicked looking little automatic—and dropped down behind the desk. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! The automatic fired in rapid succession. Shell casings went flying and clattered as they hit the desk.

  Grandpère never flinched. A vase in the corner shattered. I saw where a book was hit.

  “Idiot!” Gisela screamed. “I want him alive.”

  In a fury, Niklas darted away, using the desk as a shield. He scuttled past me and took cover behind the large table in the center of the room. He dropped to one knee, raised the pistol again, this time clasping it in both hands as he took careful aim.

  “No, Niklas!” Gisela was on her feet, bringing the pouch up so it was pointed straight at him. The
re was this soft WHOOSH! of air. Niklas’s hands were knocked straight up in the air. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Four steel-jacketed bullets plowed into the chandelier directly over his head. Shards of glass exploded, spraying the room. I felt something sting my arm. The guards and the doctor screamed and fell to their knees, throwing their arms across their faces. BLAM! BLAM! Two more rounds went off before Niklas could release the trigger. The second bullet smashed directly into the chain that held the crystal chandelier suspended from the high ceiling.

  There was a sharp snapping sound as the chain broke, releasing its burden of several hundred pounds of cut-glass crystal. Niklas barely had time to throw his hands over his head as it crashed down upon him. I saw the center shaft of the fixture hit him a glancing blow on the back of his skull, felling him like a lumberjack’s ax. The bulk of the chandelier hit the table with a tremendous crash. Wood splintered. Two of the table legs collapsed. Glass sprayed out in every direction. Then the entire thing went down on top of Niklas with a deafening crash that shook the whole room.

  With a cry of anguish, Gisela was up and running around her desk. Totally oblivious to the glass shards littering the floor, she dropped to her knees, grasped Niklas by his coat, and dragged him from beneath the shattered table and chandelier. It was done roughly, but Niklas didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound. She dropped to her knees and lifted his head and cradled it in her lap. “I’m sorry, Nikky. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  She looked up as the doctor ran to join her. “Please, Lady von Dietz. Stand back. Let me look at him.”

  As she got to her feet, I saw that her skirt had a large circle of fresh blood on it just below her waist.

  The rest of us were in shock. Everything had happened so fast, there had hardly been time for it to register. I was trembling. Even Doc and Jean-Claude had gone ashen. Grandpère came forward to where Jean-Claude’s pistol lay on the floor. He picked it up and pointed it at the two men. “Get over there in the corner.” He raised his head, looking at the other guards. “The rest of you too. In the corner.”

  As Grandpère started forward, I raced to his side. He still had his pistol pointed at the six or seven men moving toward the far corner of the room. “How did you get here?” I cried.

  He smiled. “I came by car, with a short detour through the river.”

  “Oh, Grandpère. I’m so glad to see you.”

  “And I you, my dearest one.” He looked around the room. “It looks as though you’ve been in a spot of trouble here.” Before I could answer, he took my arm and steered me forward, toward where the doctor had Niklas on his side and was examining the back of his head. “There are things we need to attend to,” Grandpère whispered, “and then we shall talk.”

  “Niklas has the keys to the handcuffs,” I whispered back. “We need to get those first.”

  As we approached the two figures on the floor, Gisela, clearly in shock, jumped in front of us. “Don’t touch him!” she screamed.

  Grandpère ignored her. He reached into Niklas’s pocket, extracted a set of keys, and unlocked my handcuffs. As I took the keys over to free Rick, Grandpère said, “Rick, get one of the rifles and cover those men in the corner. Shoot the first one who moves.” He turned back to Niklas and the doctor and asked, “How is he?”

  The doctor glanced up, then went back to work. He had a pair of what looked like oversized tweezers. He was carefully removing pieces of glass from the back of Niklas’s head, which was a mass of blood. I had to look away as I felt my stomach lurch.

  “He’s got a bad laceration. He’ll need stitches and he’s probably got a severe concussion. The metal shaft hit him pretty hard.”

  “Did it fracture his skull?” Grandpère asked.

  “I can’t feel anything, but we’ll need an X-ray to be sure.” He took a deep breath. “Do I have your permission to move him down to the infirmary where I can treat him properly?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m going with you,” Gisela said as the doctor motioned for two of the guards to help him.

  “Ah, no,” Grandpère answered. “Not quite yet, Lady Gisela. We have some things to work out here.”

  “No, I won’t leave my son.”

  Looking down at the doctor again, Grandpère asked, “Is Niklas in any danger of dying?”

  He looked up, shaking his head. “No. He needs treatment, Lady von Dietz, but he will be fine. I’ll see to it.”

  I was watching her face closely. Between the swollen nose, the blackening eyes, and the piercing grief, she barely resembled the lovely and gracious woman we had met some weeks before at Le Petit Château. My own head was pounding like crazy, and I wondered if my eyes were going to go black and blue too.

  “We will be done with it now,” I spoke up, marveling even as I said it.

  “Yes,” Grandpère said. “It is time.”

  “Lady Gisela, you and I shall see this through. I want Grandpère and Rick to be with me. You may choose two to be with you. Everyone else is to leave the room.”

  She was shaking her head before I even finished. “Not your grandfather. I will not have him in the same room with me.”

  “No,” I started, “he stays or—”

  Grandpère turned to me. “No, ma chérie. Gisela is right. This is not my battle. This is to determine who will be keeper of the pouch, and that is no longer my decision.”

  “No, Grandpère!” I was stricken. “You can’t go.”

  “Don’t let him go, Danni!” Rick shouted inside my head.

  But Grandpère went on. “I would ask only for a brief consultation with my granddaughter before I take my leave.”

  “Ha!” Gisela snorted. “Do you take me for a fool? I know what you’ll do. You’ll teach her how to defeat me. You will show her how to trick me.”

  “I give you my word that I shall not counsel Danni on what she must do. As I say, this is Danni’s task now, and I will not—in reality, I cannot—interfere.”

  Gisela’s eyes, already nearly swollen shut, narrowed even more as she studied his face.

  “I swear it,” he said. “We come from families where our word is as good as our bond. If I give my word, I shall honor it.”

  That seemed to satisfy her. “Then I choose Raul and Jean-Claude to stay with me.”

  “If I only get Rick,” I said quickly, “then you get only one also.”

  “Then I choose Raul.” She smiled grimly at me. “I understand that you affectionately call him Doc.”

  The thought of that left me feeling slightly sick, but I nodded. Then I had another thought. “Before we begin, you will free my mother from that horrible contraption you have attached to her, even if it is as phony as your wax dummies. And there will be a camera on my family at all times so I can see that they are all right.”

  It was nice to see that I had surprised her again. She was smoldering, but she finally nodded. Yanking up the phone, she hit two numbers, then spoke briefly in German. Immediately, I saw a woman in a nurse’s uniform come into the picture and start unhooking Mom. It gave me great satisfaction to see her start to cry as she rejoined Dad and Cody.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked Grandpère.

  We stood together, talking quietly. I had my arm through his to make sure he wasn’t just a hopeful figment of my imagination. We were standing in the hallway just outside the library. The door, with its two bullet holes in it, was closed behind us.

  “Actually, I slipped in a few hours ago,” Grandpère said nonchalantly. “I’m not sure what happened, but while I was watching the house from a grove of trees, I saw everyone come pouring out and go chasing after something in the blizzard. It seemed like a good time to slip inside.”

  A double blessing from Cody’s footprints. I told him quickly what had happened.

  That seemed to please him. “So,” he said, with a wry smile, “in spite of all
your weepings and wailings, Le Gardien hasn’t abandoned you.”

  “No. Gratefully. And it’s been working with Cody and Rick, too. It’s actually been quite amazing.” Then I cocked my head. “Why didn’t you come earlier?”

  “Our time is short, my dear. Is that really what you want to know?”

  “I ... no. I ... why won’t you stay with me?”

  “Ah, ma chérie, that is not possible.”

  “You can’t leave me. I need you. I can’t do it. Not after all that’s happened.”

  He smiled and laid a hand on my cheek. “Are you referring to all the foolish choices you have made in these past few weeks?”

  “Yes!”

  “Including alienating your best and most trusted friend to the point where his only option was to return home until you came to your senses?”

  I looked away. “Yes,” I whispered.

  “So you were being a real ...” He left it hanging.

  “A real brat. Yes! I was stupid and selfish and ... and. ...” He put a finger to my lips. I stopped, seeing the look in his eye. He was teasing me again.

  “Carruthers,” he said, as sober as I had ever seen him. “We don’t have much time, and you are about to face the most difficult challenge of your life. Make no mistake. This is not over. Everything still hangs in jeopardy. So I need you to listen and to listen carefully.”

  “Are you going to tell me what to do?”

  He shook his head. “I gave my word. I cannot.”

  I had expected nothing less. “Go on,” I murmured.

  “You asked me the other day why Le Gardien did not warn us about Gisela and Niklas.”

  “Not us. I know why it didn’t warn me. But why didn’t you feel anything, Grandpère? Didn’t you have any premonitions about Juliette?”

  “No. But I never liked Philippe. He was an unsufferable prig.”

  “I know,” I said. “I felt the same way. But nothing on Juliette or Gisela?”

  “Not until our conversation about Dunkirk in the car.”

  “Why is that? Why didn’t Le Gardien warn you?”