Order of the Black Sun Box Set 4

by Preston William Child

  “Thank you, Don,” Costa said, looking both brooding and sorrowful. “David, how did it happen? Did they say?”

  Purdue cocked his head. “This is difficult. I am not sure you want to know.”

  Costa’s voice was as heavy as his disposition. “Tell me. Please, David.”

  “She was killed by the Euryale stone, Costa. I am so sorry,” Purdue forced out. It was devastating to him as well to share this awful turn of events. “Soula was a colleague and friend of mine for three years. I can’t believe this. My God.”

  “How is it that they have the Euryale stone?” Costa asked out loud, falling back into his chair.

  “You know about the stone?” Nina asked, putting him on the spot right there. Again, he did not realize that he was supposed to keep his knowledge of the stones secret.

  “Well, no…” he hesitated, but his ability to recover aided in his charade. “From my knowledge of Greek Mythology naturally I know that Medusa had two sisters, one of which was called Euryale.” He elected to steer the conversation in a way he did not intend originally. But now he had to, in order to sound as uninformed as he was supposed to be. “That means there is a third stone out there?”

  “Yes, Nina and I deducted that initially after we returned from the warehouse,” Purdue admitted, having no idea that they were in fact in the presence of the third deadly stone that killed Dr. James Heidmann mere hours before.

  30

  Purdue could not shake the feeling that his efforts would fail, as optimistic a person as he was. He was up against the insidious Black Sun once more and he knew the measures these people would go. Too many times had he seen the reach of their influence and the perils of crossing them. When Helen Barry sheltered him a few years ago, he urged her not to get involved in any way, no matter how she asked about the kind of organization it was. Now he was hoping she had at least taken the liberty to have researched them to sate her curiosity so that she would know that they were not to be challenged.

  On the other hand Purdue hoped that she really was still alive. There was no indication during the phone call that she had not been disposed of yet, so he was concerned about that too. Leaving Nina behind also did not sit well with him, especially on his expedition into such a dangerous situation, never mind the fact that the relic had all the while been a desire of the Order of the Black Sun. Of this he never had any knowledge.

  As he boarded the jet he had hired in Prague, he could not stop entertaining a myriad of horrid scenarios, but he had to return to the British Museum to find some hint of where Helen was taken. Knowing her, she would have left at least some clue, he hoped. As the jet took off, he devised a plan to elicit the help of someone he could trust completely. He left behind another person he could trust completely, Dr. Don Graham, who would no doubt protect his beloved Nina at any cost.

  He opened his tablet screen with a sweep of his thumb, the almost holographic substance of the details on the device appearing rapidly as he paged. A few minutes later, he made another call ahead to Baden in Aargau and London to arrange for the necessary release forms and transportation. Then he called Don to make sure the three remaining members of the project were on their way to Krakow to pick up the less than legal blue prints of the concentration camp from a cousin of a friend of Alex, or whatever order these ruffians arranged their clandestine doings.

  His call to Baden in Aargau was swift and positive before he asked a staff member at the British Museum to pick him up from Heathrow via shuttle. Purdue sat back and had two neat Scotches to calm his nerves, but had no more so that his senses and deductive reasoning would remain sharp. Inside, he felt sick and depressed. Being back in the claws of the Black Sun meant that he never really shook them after he and Sam Cleave almost destroyed a third of their members in Venice a few years ago.

  But he had to deal with them. He had to get Helen Barry back, even just as a matter of principal. She had after all protected him when he was in dire trouble. Her assistant he was not sure of. They had no reason to keep the young woman alive if they were serious enough to make away with an influential and powerful individual like Soula Fidikos. Claire would be of no use to them, he reckoned.

  Or would she?

  The notion unsettled Purdue. Many times before he had been blindsided by innocent looking women who were puppets steered by the Black Sun. Heidmann’s disappearance bothered Purdue as well.

  ‘He was the one man who knew about the finer details of the stone, who was to say that he was not aware of the other two stones as well?’ Purdue thought. ‘Then again, the fact that Costa knew Soula and that Heidmann and the Greek could not stand one another…I can only speculate.’

  It all made Purdue realize that there were literally a handful of people in this world he could rely on not betray him or try to kill him. Still, that did not mean that Heidmann or Claire were necessarily bad people. Perhaps they were just desperate – and expendable.

  “Mr. Purdue, we will be landing in approximately 10 minutes,” the private flight attendant told him. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “No, thank you. Just get me to the ground as soon as possible,” he smiled, effectively hiding the immense worry he carried.

  When he arrived at the British Museum he was met by the head of security, a big tough Scouse called Duncan that Purdue knew well.

  “Welcome back, boss,” Duncan said. “Although, I wish I'd be seeing you under better circumstances.”

  “I know, Duncan. How have you been, sir?” Purdue asked cordially, shaking the man’s hand while tapping his back with the other.

  “Oh, with the coppers finally gone, like, they say there is not much leads to go on. They did take the ladies to their lockers though, for what I don’t know,” the strappy veteran informed Purdue as they walked to the office of Prof. Helen Barry. “But the bastards took the security footage from the earthquake too, boss.”

  “Why would they do that? Just that one day’s reel?” Purdue asked. Duncan nodded in affirmation. Then it hit Purdue. The day of the earthquake was the day the remaining intact security camera in the exhibition hall captured the remnants of the broken statue. It was proof that the stone statue had been a human being.

  ‘Oh, of course,’ he pondered. ‘They would not want the world to see what they already know.’

  When they entered the cordoned-off section of the administration section, Duncan stepped aside for Purdue to enter.

  “Go on, boss,” he said. “I’ll wait here outside, like, just to make sure nobody comes bothering, alright?”

  “Very well, Duncan. Thanks,” Purdue nodded and closed the door behind him. Contrary to what he thought would greet him, the office was virtually unmarked. Nothing was out of place, save for a small loose mat Helen had under her desk to warm her feet when she worked late capturing new inventory. The curator loathed her designer shoes and loved walking on her socks or bare feet, he recalled. But from what Purdue noticed, the mat had been rumpled from the wrong side. It had been disturbed from the inside under the desk, instead of the outside where her chair would have stood on the frayed edge.

  Frowning at the oddity Purdue kneeled to see what was muddling up the little blue rug. Lifting his tablet to provide adequate light from its internal LED assembly he only found a crow’s nest of wiring, pulled violently from the wall.

  “Why would she pull out the wall fixtures?” he asked out loud, inching deeper in under the desk to examine the origin of the various cables. There was nothing significant about any of the electrical points that would pertain to security, yet he knew that Helen would never do something like this for any reason. Eventually, having found no correlation between the damage and Helen’s way of thinking he retreated slowly on his elbows and knees. Minding his head as he drew back, his LED light caught something messy and prominent etched in the right wooden panel of the desk.

  There it was, roughly scratched, yet very clear. He instantly recognized the symbol of the Order of the Black Sun, but instead of being cons
trued as a helpful hint, it was unfortunately already known fact.

  “Oh, Helen,” Purdue remarked softly, “you are too right, my dearest. But I already know who took you.” He sighed, “If you could only have left me a note on where they took you, on the other hand.” But Helen did not know where she was going to be taken. So both of them were left separated from the other.

  “Duncan,” Purdue called.

  “Yeah boss,” Duncan said from a crack in the door.

  “Could you come in here quickly, please?” the confounded benefactor asked him.

  “Sure, sure, Mr. Purdue,” Duncan said. He came in and closed the door behind him, looking eager to help with his hands on his sides and a reddened face glowing with zealous attention. “How can I help?”

  “Tell me, were you here when they were taken?” Purdue asked.

  “No, boss. It was McGinty, my alternate. He was on duty, then, but there was no indication that the ladies were leaving all against their will, like. But he is here today,” he reported. “You want me to get him?”

  “Please, Duncan. It would help a lot,” Purdue implored. “I’ll wait here.”

  A few minutes later both men returned to the office. Duncan closed the door and leaned against it while McGinty exchanged pleasantries with Purdue.

  “McGinty, do you have any recorded footage of the men leaving with Claire and Prof. Barry three days ago?” Purdue asked.

  McGinty looked at Duncan, reluctant to answer. Duncan urged him on, nodding to assure his colleague that Mr. Purdue could be trusted. “This man pays your salary, so to speak,” Duncan told his colleague. “If he needs help, like, we are going to give it to him. You know full well the police have no freakin’ idea where to start.”

  “Ayah!” McGinty agreed. “That is for certain. Mr. Purdue, the police pulled all that data off the security recordings, sir. The servers have no files form any time before yesterday anymore.

  Purdue grinned like a kingpin criminal, wringing his hands together. It provoked a curious smile from Duncan who had always admired the well-known explorer and inventor’s penchant for rule breaking to serve justice. “What you thinking, boss?” he smiled with his massive forearms folded over his chest.

  “Can you get me into the control room server station?” Purdue asked. “There will be backed up files, data equivalent to the exact footage the police annexed.

  “Of course, I can, Mr. Purdue!” McGinty boasted. “I can get you in anywhere. Just out of interest, what if you don’t recognize the men?”

  “That does not matter, McGinty,” Purdue reassured him. “I just need to see which code they used to gain access to the administration wing. If they are not employees, they must have used the access code of whomever helped them.”

  “Geezuss, the man really is a genius, eh? Eh, Duncan?” McGinty marveled, slapping his colleague’s upper arm with the back of his hand.

  “Aye, we know that,” Duncan laughed. “I’ll watch the perimeter while you get the boss into the computer room.”

  “Alright, Mr. Purdue,” McGinty gestured forward, “this way.”

  With the help of the two private security experts Purdue found himself sitting in front of the server where the security data was stored, on and offline. Briskly he expanded his tablet into its A4 size and placed it on the desk next to him. Dislodging a small catch tucked in the side of the device, he extracted a built in USB-type connector on a cable already connected to the internal storage chip of the tablet. Narrowing his eyes to determine the opposing port of the particular drive, Purdue slipped the connector in and activated his retrieval program on the tablet.

  Soon the load bar appeared in translucent blue on the transparent screen, and Purdue proceeded to punch in the time stamps, from the morning of that Friday to the last shift change last night. As he waited for the data transfer to complete Purdue realized for the first time how fatigued he was. All the excitement of decrypting the mystery of the Nazi officer’s writings to the adrenaline fueled worry for the welfare of his old friend Helen Barry, had him neglecting any thought of sleep.

  In fact, he only now came to realize just how exhausted he was. In essence, he had not slept a wink since he woke up to ready the group for the trip to Markvartovice! Even he was amazed at the lack of sleep he had managed to suppress thus far in order to keep things steady.

  “Some tea, boss?” Duncan asked in the hum of the machines, holding up two mugs.

  “Aye, thank you, Duncan,” Purdue smiled, feeling considerably less lonely. “You are a godsend!”

  31

  Don had peppered his ankle with ointment and bound it properly. For a while, he understandably limped a bit, but by mid-morning he could walk quite well again. He let Nina drive the van across the border to Poland for more reasons than one. Border guards had a softer spot for charming, beautiful women and of course, his foot would never hold out on the pedals for the duration of the trip to Krakow once in the country.

  Costa offered to drive, but Nina was having fun driving the vehicle that was clearly supped-up contrary to its dilapidated hand-me-down exterior. The clouds only dropped a drizzle which was welcome, since she was unfamiliar with the roads and would have hated to drive in back roads outside Krakow in hard rain. Don played some old Johnny Cash and a mix tape of 80’s hits, both cassettes he discovered in the glove compartment.

  “Guys, have you noticed that Volvo before?” Nina asked.

  Looking behind them as they headed from the border, both Costa and Don noticed the old brown Volvo.

  “Nope, haven’t seen it before,” Costa shrugged. “But we will keep checking, especially when we turn onto other roads.”

  Purdue’s party of explorers was taking a route that ran south of Katowice to make a beeline for Krakow on a less conspicuous road. Perhaps it was an error to be too unremarkable, but they could not afford too much attention on main roads with a vehicle that looked like a moving wreck, deceptive or not.

  Just before Tychy, they pulled over to fill up the tank. It was the perfect opportunity to see if the Volvo followed, and it did.

  “See that?” Nina asked Costa. He nodded, watching the old brown car stop at another garage.

  “Just get a good look at them when they get out, Zorba,” Don warned. “I have to take a piss quick, okay?”

  “Right,” Costa replied, ready to memorize the occupants of the suspicious car. Nina had run into the convenience store nearby to buy them all some road chow while Costa minded the van.

  From across the wide road, the Volvo’s occupants stepped out, three men in their 30s looking crime-movie scaly. Costa leaned against the van, his arms folded over his chest. He made no secret that he was watching them when they looked in his direction, using his intimidation as a warning to them that they have been discovered. If it turned out that they were not really thugs or had anything to do with the Black Sun, Costa figured his distinct warning to them would be inconsequential and harmless.

  The men took note of him but did not act on it. They seemed to get fuel too and went into the small shop for cigarettes and Coca Cola.

  “Any bazookas or automatic weapons?” Don jested as he interrupted Costa’s intent leer at the men across the busy street.

  Costa laughed and shook his head, but Don discerned a mean streak in that chuckle as if Costa was hoping for a confrontation.

  “I got you lads some sandwiches and milk,” Nina reported when she joined them. “Hope that is okay. There was not much choice, else.”

  “Sandwiches are perfect, Dr. Gould,” Costa flirted with a wink. He took his foil-wrapped lunch from her, lightly grazing her hand with his as he did so. Nina’s legs stung with the thrill of his touch and she caught herself looking into his dark mesmerizing eyes a moment too long.

  “And this is yours, Don,” she said quickly, giving Don his food.

  “Ah! Milk! A very good idea. It is very filling, unlike that sugary soda shite people drink,” Don approved. “So what do you think? Could they be a threat?�
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  Costa shook his head. “I don’t think so. But if they are they will certainly be sorry.”

  Don slapped a heavy hand on the Greek professor’s shoulder and laughed with a mouth full of toasted bread, “I am beginning to like you more and more, lady!”

  Nina smiled. “Everything is a dick measuring contest with you men, isn’t it? Can’t you just treat a perceived threat gracefully and talk to your opponents?”

  “No,” both men answered in unison, reinforcing their male bonding with a roaring laugh. She had to smile. Perhaps it was good to be in the company of two rambunctious lads like Don and Costa. After all, those types of brawlers were the most effective protectors.

  “Okay, jokes aside. We have a questionable character to meet in less than 50 minutes,” Don said. “How long till we get to Krakow from here?”

  “About an hour,” Nina affirmed, checking her handheld GPS provided by Purdue so that their position and route would not be registered on any international systems. The billionaire had his own satellite feed for the very purpose of remaining undetected.

  “Who is driving?” Don asked.

  “I will drive,” Costa offered, “if the pretty lady wants to relax a bit?”

  Nina cast a quick glance to Don as she gave Costa the keys. The archeologist just grinned, knowing how she fancied the Greek, and also knowing why. He had never met Sam Cleave, but from the various explorations and news worthy coverage that Purdue’s hunts have delivered before he had seen pictures of the investigative journalist.

  It was uncanny how Costa resembled him, but Don hoped that Nina had the clarity of mind to remember that the art professor was a different person to Sam, no matter how he resembled him. Another thing Don secretly knew was how much his friend, Dave Purdue, still loved his ex-girlfriend. In so many late night drunken discussions, Purdue had admitted to him how he would never give up on winning her back.