“How is she doing?” the nurse asked her superior, as she roughly rolled up the old sheet she’d pulled off the empty mattress.
“Her vitals are good,” the head sister answered softly.
“What I was saying was that they should have dressed his skin with more Flamazine before fitting his mask. I think I am correct in suggesting it. There was no reason for Dr. Hilt to bite my head off,” the nurse complained about an incident Nina reckoned the two had been discussing since before they came to check on her.
“You know I agree with you in that regard, but you have to remember that you cannot question the treatment or dosage prescribed – or applied – by highly qualified doctors, Marlene. Just keep your diagnosis to yourself until you retain a stronger position on the food chain here, alright?” the plump sister advised her subordinate.
“Will he be occupying this bed once he leaves the ICU, Sister Barken?” she asked curiously. “Here? With Dr. Gould?”
“Yes. Why not? This is not the Middle Ages or Primary School camp, my dear. We have unisex wards for specific conditions, you know.” Sister Barken half-smiled as she reprimanded the star-struck nurse she knew adored Dr. Nina Gould.Who? Nina wondered. Who the hell are they planning to room with me that deserves so much bloody attention?
“Look, Dr. Gould is frowning,” Sister Barken remarked, having no idea it was prompted by Nina’s discontent at soon receiving a very unwanted roommate. Silent, waking thoughts were controlling her expression. “It must be the splitting headaches associated with the radiation exposure. Poor thing.”Aye! Nina thought. The headaches are killing me, by the way. Your painkillers are a great party favor, but they do jack shit for a throbbing frontal lobe attack, you know?
Her strong, cold hand suddenly latched onto Nina’s wrist, sending a shock through the historian’s fever-riddled body that was already sensitive to temperature. Unintentionally, Nina’s big, dark eyes shot open.
“Jesus Christ, woman! Do you want to peel my skin off the muscle with that ice-cold talon?” she shrieked. Streaks of pain shot through Nina’s nervous system, her thundering response startling both nurses into a stupor.
“Dr. Gould!” Sister Barken exclaimed in surprise in flawless English. “I am so sorry! You are supposed to be under sedation.” On the other side of the floor the young nurse grinned from ear to ear.
Realizing that she had just betrayed her charade in the rudest way, Nina elected to play the victim to hide her embarrassment. Immediately she held the side of her head, moaning a little. “Sedation? The pain is coming right through all the painkillers. My apologies for scaring you, but…it – my skin is on fire,” Nina performed. Eagerly the other nurse approached her bedside, still smiling like a groupie with a backstage pass.
“Nurse Marx, would you be so kind as to get Dr. Gould something for her headache?” Sister Barken asked. “Bitte,” she said a tad louder to jerk young Marlene Marx from her silly fixation.
“Um, yes, of course, Sister,” she replied, reluctantly accepting her task before practically skipping out of the room.
“Cute lassie,” Nina said.
“Excuse her. She, actually her mother – they are huge fans of yours. They know all about your travels, and some of the things you wrote about quite captivated Nurse Marx. So please ignore her staring,” Sister Barken explained amicably.
Nina cut right to the chase while they were unperturbed by the drooling puppy in scrubs that was soon due back. “Who will be sleeping there, then? Anyone I know?”
Sister Barken shook her head. “I don’t think he should even know who he is, actually,” she whispered. “Professionally I am not at liberty to share, but since you will be sharing a room with the new patient…”
“Guten Morgen, Sister,” said a man from the doorway. His words were muffled behind his surgical mask, but Nina could tell that his accent was not authentically German.
“Excuse me, Dr. Gould,” said Sister Barken as she walked over to speak to the tall figure. Nina listened attentively. In this sleepy hour it was still relatively quiet in the ward, which made it easier to listen, especially when Nina closed her eyes.
The doctor asked Sister Barken about the young man brought in the night before and why the patient was no longer in what Nina heard as ‘Room 4’. Her stomach twitched into a knot when the sister asked for the doctor’s credentials and he responded with a threat.
“Sister, if you do not give me the information I need, someone will die before you can call security. Of that I can assure you.”
Nina caught her breath. What was he going to do? Even with her eyes wide open she had trouble seeing properly, so attempting to memorize his features was next to futile. It was best just to pretend she could not understand German and that she was too sedated to hear anything anyway.
“No. Do you think it is the first time a charlatan has attempted to intimidate me in my twenty-seven years as a medical professional? Get lost or I will pummel you myself,” Sister Barken threatened. The sister said nothing afterward, but Nina distinguished a mad scuffling after which it was alarmingly silent. She dared to turn her head. In the doorway the wall of a woman stood firm, yet the stranger had absconded.
“That was too easy,” Nina said under her breath, but played dumb for everyone’s sake. “Is that my doctor?”
“No, my dear,” Sister Barken replied. “And please, if you see him again, let me or any of the other staff know immediately.” She looked very annoyed, but showed no fear whatsoever as she joined Nina at her bed again. “They should bring in the new patient within the next day. They have stabilized him for now. But don’t worry, he is under heavy sedation. He will not be a disturbance to you.”
“How long will I still be confined here?” Nina asked. “And don’t say until I’m well.”
Sister Barken chuckled. “You tell me, Dr. Gould. You have everyone amazed at your ability to fight infection and have exhibited borderline supernatural healing capacity. Are you some sort of vampire?”
The nursing sister’s humor was most welcome. It cheered Nina to know that there were still individuals with some wonderment. But what she could not relay even to the most open-minded, was that her uncanny ability to heal came from a blood transfusion she had undergone years ago. At the gates of death Nina was saved by the blood of an especially wicked nemesis, an actual remnant of Himmler’s experimentations to create a super-human, a wonder weapon. Her name had been Lita and she was a monster with powerful blood indeed.
“Maybe the damage was not as profuse as the doctors initially thought,” Nina replied. “Besides, if I’m healing so well, why am I going blind?”
Sister Barken caringly laid her hand on Nina’s forehead. “Maybe it is just symptomatic of your electrolyte imbalance or your insulin levels, my dear. I am sure your sight will become clearer soon. Don’t worry. If you keep going as you are now, you will be out of here soon.”
Nina hoped the lady’s assumption was right, because she needed to find Sam and ask about Purdue. She needed a new phone as well. Until then, she would just check the news for anything on Purdue, as he was arguably famous enough to make the news in Germany. Even though he had tried to kill her, she hoped he was okay – wherever he was.
“Did the man who brought me in…did he say he would return at all?” Nina inquired about Detlef Holtzer, an acquaintance she had wronged before he rescued her from Purdue and the devil’s veins under the infamous Reactor 4 in Chernobyl.
“No, we have not heard from him since,” Sister Barken admitted. “Not a boyfriend in any capacity, was he?”
Nina smiled in reminiscence of the sweet, misunderstood bodyguard who had helped her, Sam and Purdue locate the famed Amber Room before things fell apart in the Ukraine. “Not a boyfriend,” she smiled at the hazy image of the nursing sister. “A widower.”
4
Charm
“How is Nina?” Purdue asked Sam as they vacated the bed-less room with Purdue’s coat and a small valise as baggage.
“Detlef Holtzer had her admitted to a hospital in Heidelberg. I am planning to drop in on her in a week or so,” Sam whispered as he checked the hallway. “Good thing Detlef is the forgiving type, or else your ass would be haunting Pripyat by now.”
Looking first left and right, Sam motioned for his friend to follow him to the right where he was heading for the stairs. They heard voices in discussion coming up to the landing. Hesitating for a moment, Sam stopped and pretended to be embroiled in a conversation on his phone.
“They are not agents of Satan, Sam. Come on,” Purdue sniggered, pulling Sam by his sleeve past the two cleaners that were chatting about trivialities. “They don’t even know I’m a patient. For all they know, you’re my patient.”
“Mr. Purdue!” a woman called from behind, strategically interrupting Purdue’s statement.
“Keep walking,” Purdue muttered.
“Why?” Sam teased loudly. “They think I’m your patient, remember?”
“Sam! For God’s sake, keep walking,” Purdue insisted, only vaguely amused by Sam’s juvenile interjection.
“Mr. Purdue, please stop right there. I need to have a word with you,” the woman reiterated. He stopped with a sigh of defeat and turned to face the attractive lady. Sam cleared his throat. “Please tell me that is your doctor, Purdue. Because…well, she can brainwash me any day.”
“It appears she already has,” Purdue mumbled with a sharp look to his associate.
“I have not had the pleasure,” she smiled as she met eyes with Sam.
“Would you like to?” Sam asked, receiving a mighty elbow from Purdue.
“Excuse me?” she asked as she joined them.
“He’s a bit shy,” Purdue lied. “He must learn to speak up, I’m afraid. He must seem so rude, Melissa. I’m sorry.”
“Melissa Argyle.” She smiled as she introduced herself to Sam.
“Sam Cleave,” he said plainly, keeping track of Purdue’s surreptitious signals in his peripheral. “Are you Mr. Purdue’s…”Mindfucker?
“…attending psychologist?” Sam asked, keeping his thoughts locked safely away.
Coyly she scoffed amusedly. “No! Oh, no. I wish I had such authority. I am just the head of administration here at Sinclair, ever since Ella went on maternity leave.”
“So you will be leaving in three months?” Sam feigned regret.
“I’m afraid so,” she replied. “But it will be okay. I have a freelance position at Edinburgh University as an assistant, or advisor, to the Dean of Psychology.”
“Do you hear that, Purdue?” Sam marveled a bit too much. “She is stationed at Fort Edinburgh! It’s a small world. I haunt the place too, but mostly for information when I research my assignments.”
“Ah yes,” Purdue smiled. “I know where she is – stationed.”
“Who do you think got me this position?” she swooned and looked at Purdue with immense adoration. Sam could not let the opportunity for mischief slip by.
“Oh, he did? You old scoundrel, Dave! Helping talented, budding academics into positions even when you do not get publicity for it and all. Isn’t he just the best, Melissa?” Sam praised his friend, not fooling Purdue at all, but Melissa was convinced of his sincerity.
“I owe Mr. Purdue so much,” she chirped. “I just hope he knows how much I appreciate it. As a matter of fact, he gave me this pen.” The back of her pen rolled left to right across her dark rose lipstick as she subconsciously flirted, her yellow locks barely covering her hard nipples that strained through her beige cardigan.
“I’m sure that pen appreciates your efforts too,” Sam said plainly.
Purdue looked ashen, screaming in his mind for Sam to shut up. The blond woman stopped sucking her pen immediately, realizing what she was doing. “How do you mean, Mr. Cleave?” she asked sternly. Sam was unfazed.
“I mean that pen would appreciate your efforts in signing Mr. Purdue out in a few minutes,” Sam smiled confidently. Purdue could not believe it. Sam was busy using his freak talent on Melissa to get her to do what he wished, he realized at once. Trying not to smile at the journalist’s audacity, he kept his expression agreeable.
“Absolutely,” she beamed. “Just let me pull up the discharge documents and I’ll meet you both in the lobby in ten minutes.”
“Thank you so much, Melissa,” Sam called after her as she descended the stairs.
Slowly his head turned to face Purdue’s strange expression.
“You are incorrigible, Sam Cleave,” he reprimanded.
Sam shrugged.
“Remind me to buy you a Ferrari for Christmas,” he grinned. “But first we’re going to drink until Hogmanay and beyond!”
“Rocktober Fest was last week, didn’t you know?” Sam said matter-of-factly as the two strolled down to the ground floor reception area.
“Aye.”
Behind the reception desk, the flustered girl Sam had bewildered stared at him again. Purdue did not have to ask. He could only guess what mind games Sam must have played on the poor girl. “You know that when you use your powers for evil the gods will take them from you, right?” he asked Sam.
“But I’m not using them for evil. I’m breaking my old pal out of here,” Sam defended.
“Not me, Sam. The women,” Purdue corrected what Sam already knew was his meaning. “Look at their faces. You did something.”
“Nothing they’ll regret, sadly. Maybe I should just allow myself a little bit of female attention by means of the gods, hey?” Sam tried to elicit sympathy from Purdue, but he received nothing but a nervous leer.
“Let’s just get out of here scot-free first, old boy,” he reminded Sam.
“Ha, good choice of words there, sir. Oh look, there is Melissa now,” he flashed Purdue a naughty smile. “How did she earn that Caran d’Ache? With those rosy lips?”
“She belongs to one of my beneficiary programs, Sam, like several other young women…and men, I’ll have you know,” Purdue defended hopelessly, knowing full well that Sam was pulling his leg.
“Hey, your preferences have nothing to do with me,” Sam mocked.
After Melissa signed Purdue’s discharge papers, he wasted no time to get to Sam’s car on the other side of the enormous botanical garden that surrounded the building. Like two boys playing truant, they walk-jogged away from the facility.
“You have balls, Sam Cleave. I’ll give you that,” Purdue chuckled as they passed security with the signed release papers.
“I do. Let’s prove it though,” Sam jested as they got into the car. Purdue’s quizzical expression compelled him to give away the secret celebratory venue he had in mind. “Just west of North Berwick we go…to the beer tent village…and we’ll be wearing kilts!”
5
The Lurking Marduk
Windowless and dank, the basement lay in quiet wait for the lurking shadow that inked its way along the wall as it slithered down the stairs. Just like a real shadow, the man who cast it moved without a sound as he stole down to the only deserted place he could find to hide long enough until shift change. The emaciated giant plotted his next move meticulously in his mind, but he was in no way oblivious to reality – he would have to lay low for at least another two days.
The latter was a decision made at the scrutiny of the staff roster up on the second floor, where the administrator pinned the week’s work schedule to the staff room bulletin board. On the colorful Excel document he’d caught sight of the tenacious nurse’s name and her shift details. He did not want to confront her again and she would be on duty for two more days, leaving him no choice other than to squat in the concrete solitude of the slightly illuminated boiler room with only plumbing to amuse him.
What a setback, he thought. But ultimately getting to Flieger Olaf Löwenhagen, until recently stationed at the Luftwaffe unit at Büchel Air Base, would be worth the wait. The lurking old man could not allow the heavily injured pilot to stay alive at any cost. What the young man could do, should he not be stopped, was simply t
oo risky. The long wait had begun for the deformed hunter, the epitome of patience, now hiding in the depths of the Heidelberg Medical Institution.
In his hands he held the surgical mask he’d just removed, wondering what it would be like to walk among people without some sort of covering over his face. But upon such pondering came the undeniable disdain for the wish. He had to admit to himself that it would vex him immensely to walk in the daylight without a mask, if only for the discomfort it would grant him.
Naked.
He would feel bare, barren as his featureless face was now, if he had to reveal his defect to the world. And he contemplated what it would be like to look normal, by definition, as he sat down in the quiet darkness of the east corner of the basement. Even if he were not plagued by malformation and wore an acceptable face, he would feel exposed and horribly – visible. In fact, the only desire he could salvage from the notion was the privilege of proper speech. No, he changed his mind. Being able to speak would not be the only thing that would please him; the joy of smiling itself would be as an elusive dream captured.
He eventually curled up under the coarse cover of a stolen bed linen, courtesy of the laundry room. He’d rolled up a bundle of bloody, tarp-like sheets he’d found in one of the canvas hampers to serve as insulation between his fatless body and the hard floor. After all, his protruding bones bruised his skin even on the mildest of mattresses, but his thyroid did not allow him to gain any of that soft lipid tissue that could gift him comfortable cushioning.
His childhood illness had only exacerbated his birth defect, leaving him a monster in pain. But it was his curse to equalize the blessing of being what he was, he assured himself. At first it had been a hard thing for Peter Marduk to accept, but once he had found his place in the world, his purpose was clear. Handicap, physically or spiritually, would have to give way to his role given by whatever cruel Maker had produced him.
Another day passed and he had gone undetected, his foremost skill in all endeavors. Peter Marduk, aged seventy-eight, laid his head on the stinking linen to get some well-needed sleep while he waited for another day to pass above him. The smell did not bother him. His senses were selective to a fault; one of those blessings he had been cursed with when he hadn’t received a nose. When he wanted to track a scent, his sense of smell was like that of a shark. Alternatively, he had the ability to utilize the opposite. That was what he did now.
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 5 Page 23
