Immortal Ascendant

by Gary Jonas

  “Ms. Merchant?” I said as I came up to her.

  “Are you Jonathan Shade?” she asked.

  “You don’t just know that?”

  She smiled and ran a hand through her long blonde hair to reposition it. “Please, join me. The waitress will be by momentarily. She’s very good.”

  I sat in the open short-backed red chair and before I’d even adjusted my posture, a young woman in a black dress appeared at the table. “Would you like to see a menu, sir?” she asked.

  “I’ll just take a Jameson,” I said. “Neat.”

  “Excellent choice, sir,” she said, and was gone.

  “See?” Maria said.

  “Depends on how long it takes for my drink to arrive,” I said.

  And before I finished the sentence, the woman was on her way back to the table carrying a tray with my glass of whiskey. She set a napkin on the table and placed my drink on top of it. “Please let me know if I can get you anything else,” she said.

  She moved away, and I sipped my whiskey. It was smooth and warmed my throat.

  “Did you choose this place?” I asked.

  Maria nodded and lifted her cocktail glass. She ran an elegant finger around the rim then took a sip. “I like the ambiance.”

  “It’s pretty cool,” I said. “How did you end up working for Richard Class?”

  “I needed the money,” she said.

  “I suspect it’s more than that.”

  “Are you psychic?” she asked.

  “That’s your department.”

  “I’m a medium,” she said.

  “There’s a difference?”

  “You know full well there’s a difference or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  I raised my glass to her. The difference, of course, was that mediums communicated with spirits. I know what you’re thinking. I could see ghosts, so why did I need Maria? And yes, it’s true that I could see and talk to ghosts if they were right there in front of me, but I couldn’t contact those who had passed on—those who went into the light or into the dark, depending on where they were bound. I’ve been to the Underworld, but not to the deeper levels. Call it Tartarus, call it Hell, whatever floats your boat.

  “So you’re going to get in touch with Hitler’s spirit to see where he’s buried?” I asked.

  “I’ll try. Time can be a hindrance. First, we’ll need something that belonged to him.”

  “Great,” I said. “Where the hell will we get something that belonged to him?”

  “The Library of Congress has some of his books in their Rare Book Division. American soldiers brought them back from a salt mine near Berchtesgaden. We can go there tomorrow morning. They open at half past eight.”

  “Okay,” I said. “And how will this work?”

  “They have a reading room.”

  “I know that. I mean how does it work for you?”

  She winked at me. “A woman has to have some secrets,” she said.

  “Right. Well, we have drinks to finish, so what can you tell me about yourself that isn’t a national secret?”

  When she smiled, her eyes twinkled. “What would you like to know?”

  “Anything you feel is relevant?”

  “I grew up in Germany.”

  “You don’t have much of an accent.”

  “I worked hard to rid myself of the accent when I moved to America.”

  “Where in Germany?”

  “Munich at first. I also spent a little time in Berlin. Like my grandmother, I was born on Halloween, which seems appropriate.”

  “I was supposed to be born on Halloween, but I was late.”

  “You were on time for this meeting, so there’s that.”

  Two men clad in black suits and red power ties entered the bar. They nodded to each other before splitting up. One took a seat at the circular counter, and the other crossed the floor to get behind me. They flagged my radar as being dangerous, though the guy at the bar set up with his back to me.

  I watched the other guy in the mirror behind the bar. He sat alone at a small table, eyes fixed on Maria. She was lovely, so that could explain it.

  “The congressman showed me a picture of your grandmother. You two look like identical twins.”

  “She was prettier.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Thank you. Are you familiar with my grandmother’s life?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry.” I sipped my whiskey and caught the guy at the bar glancing at me in the mirror. Definitely looked at me because Maria’s back was to him. Not good.

  “Most people have never heard of her,” Maria said, “so it’s all right. I thought perhaps you would have known of her because I was told you were knowledgeable about the occult.”

  “I’ve read a few books.”

  “I was told you’d done a lot of field research.”

  “A bit.”

  “If Class hired you, I’m betting you’re very good at what you do.”

  “I hum a few bars and fake it.”

  “You don’t like talking about yourself.”

  “I’d rather talk about you,” I said, adjusting my chair so I could see the second guy with my peripheral vision.

  “And I’d rather talk about you,” she said. “Did you know there are prophecies about you and Hitler’s skull?”

  I rolled my eyes. She had to be making that up. “Don’t believe everything you read. Tell me about yourself.”

  “My life up to now has been rather boring. A lot of study. Learning languages. I’ve done some travel, and I’ve had a few articles published in occult journals. Most of those have been about my grandmother, though.”

  My danger radar flashed again as a large man in a gray suit entered the bar. He was alone. He didn’t look at either of the other men, and his eyes swept right past me and fixed on Maria. His eyes narrowed, and he started toward us.

  “Is something wrong?” Maria asked. “You seem distracted.”

  I drained my whiskey glass and kept it in my hand, but the two men I’d been keeping tabs on, moved like sharks through the room to intercept the large man in gray. They grabbed his arms, spun him around, and escorted him out of the bar.

  “You can set your glass down,” Maria said. “Carl and Curtis have it under control.”

  “You have bodyguards?”

  She nodded. “We aren’t the only people on this mission, so I called on my C and C Protectors.”

  “C and C as in Carl and Curtis.”

  Another nod. “Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you unless I give them the signal.”

  I set the glass down. “How long have you been on this quest?” I asked.

  “Longer than you’d believe, though most of it was waiting and not doing. Hurry up and wait, then wait and hurry up. We’re on the latter.”

  Carl and Curtis walked back into the bar. They looked like they hadn’t broken a sweat, and they took up their positions without a gesture or a glance in our direction.

  “Maybe I should meet them,” I said.

  “Not yet,” Maria said. “They get emotionally attached to people when they get to know them a bit, and if they have to kill you, I don’t want them to hesitate.”

  “Right,” I said and moved to get up.

  She placed her left hand on my right. “Don’t,” she said.

  “Don’t what? Leave?”

  “You were going to go talk to one or both of them.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t psychic.”

  “There may be other players here. I don’t want you to tip them off.”

  “Do you see any other dangerous people here?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Have they signaled to you that there are other dangerous people here?”

  “No, and they would instantly sense anyone dangerous.”

  “Good to know,” I said. “We’re done for the night. I’ll meet you at the Library of Congress at nine in the morning. Let them get opened up and running before we sho
w up.”

  “I’m impressed that you picked out my men,” she said. “If I might make a suggestion?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You should hire someone to protect you as well.”

  “You don’t think I can handle myself?”

  She shrugged. “Whether or not you’re capable doesn’t matter. It’s smart to have someone watching your back.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, and pulled my hand free. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” she said with a nod.

  I got up and walked out of the bar. I cruised through the lobby of the hotel and outside into the cool Washington breeze. I flagged a taxi, and climbed into the backseat.

  “Can you go around the block, and pull back in here to the hotel, please?” I asked.

  The driver, a middle aged man with a patchy gray beard glanced at me in the rearview. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  He drove around the block, pulled into the roundabout.

  My protector, the lovely Kelly Chan, exited the hotel wearing a tiny but elegant black dress, and holding a slender purse that held more bladed weapons than you’d think. She slid into the backseat with me, and I motioned for the driver to go.

  “She had three men watching her,” Kelly said. “The two you saw, and a third signaling to them from the lobby. The man they removed from the bar is in the men’s room, dead on the toilet inside a locked stall.”

  “Nobody noticed you?”

  She looked at her short black dress and smiled. “Everyone noticed me in this dress, Jonathan. But nobody recognized me as the apex predator in the room.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  When we got to my hotel room, Kelly frowned at me. “You’ve been talking to a politician,” she said. “Go take a shower.”

  “You’re a riot,” I said, and sat on the bed.

  Kelly leaned against the wall beside the bathroom. “Is Esther back yet?”

  I looked around. “I don’t see her, but it’s still early.”

  Esther Carmichael was a ghost from the flapper era. I broke her heart a while back and she took off on what Australians might call a walkabout. I have no idea what happened to her, but when she returned, she didn’t seem to remember any of the things that drove us apart. She carried a torch for me, but she seemed more like the Esther I knew before a bunch of crazy shit went down.

  “I’m worried about her,” Kelly said.

  “Class won’t see her. She knows what she’s doing.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I know she can follow the congressman just fine. I mean, I’m worried about her. I’ve never heard of a ghost with selective amnesia.”

  “Maybe she convinced herself the last two years never happened. Maybe it was a side effect of pulling me from the Void. Maybe she does remember, but she’s faking it to make me feel better.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Kelly said.

  “I’m just glad she’s back,” I said.

  Kelly stepped closer to me and stared down into my eyes. “Don’t you dare take her for granted.”

  “Hey, I didn’t ask her to follow Class. She volunteered.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  I knew.

  There was a lot of history there.

  “Understood,” I said.

  “All right. I’m going to go change. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

  She flipped the metal stopper over so my door wouldn’t lock her out, and she went to her room.

  I rolled off the bed and moved to my computer on a table by the window. I opened the laptop, and did a quick Google search for Maria Orsic.

  What came back was a bunch of nonsense about a medium who was part of the Vril Society in Germany. She claimed to be in touch with aliens from a planet called Aldebaran, but it made me think of Alderaan from Star Wars. I checked a few sites, and they were all about alien contact and a group of women who had horsetails to make it easier to connect with the alien dudes. What a crock of horseshit.

  But then they talked about the Vril Society meeting with the Thule Society, and that caught my attention. The Thule Society was a German secret society formed after the first World War, and the list of members was like a who’s who of Nazis and Nazi sympathizers: Rudolf Hess, Julius Lehmann, Heinrich Himmler, and Dietrich Eckart—the son of a bitch who taught Hitler his public speaking skills.

  Kelly leaned in to read over my shoulder and I about jumped out of my chair.

  “Jesus!” I said. “We need to put a bell around your neck.”

  She laughed. She wore a black T-shirt and black yoga pants. “You’re lucky I’m the one who came into your room. Any other assassin would have slit your throat.”

  “You crept up on me like that on purpose.”

  “Of course,” she said with a smile. “You need to clean out your ears. I wasn’t that quiet. Learning anything?”

  “Hard to say. Most of the stuff online about Maria’s grandmother is nonsense. But some of it might be real. Nazi connections.”

  Kelly sat on the bed. “Please tell me I get to kill some Nazis.”

  “What about Nazis?” Esther asked as she popped into view on the bed beside Kelly.

  Kelly flipped off the bed, and a dagger appeared in her right hand. “Goddammit, Esther!” Kelly said.

  I laughed. “Serves you right.”

  Esther gave Kelly an innocent smile as she played with the beads on her short flapper dress. “You look ready to cast a kitten.”

  Kelly made the dagger disappear down the back of her shirt, then tilted her head toward me. “She’s the one who needs a bell around her neck.”

  “Karma doesn’t normally come calling that fast,” I said.

  “What are you flapping your gums about?” Esther asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “What happened with Class?”

  Esther sighed. “He and some old birds talked about boring stuff for hours on end. He went home at five, kissed his wife. She’s an old chunk of lead who watches some dreadfully dull newscasts on the TV. He showed her his bumper stickers, flyers, and T-shirts, and she seemed about as fascinated by them as I was. Then they had dinner.”

  “Feel free to skip ahead to the interesting bits,” I said.

  “Those were the interesting bits.”

  “He didn’t talk to anyone about seeing me?”

  Esther shook her head, and her short hair waved as if it were reacting to the movement. “He’s a flat tire. He napped in front of the TV for bit, and finally went to bed ten minutes ago, but how he could sleep with his wife snoring is beyond me.”

  “Did you search his house?”

  “Not yet. I was hoping you’d have something more fun for me to do.”

  “Not so far,” I said. “Can you please check out Class’s place? It’s important, and I appreciate you far more than you know.”

  “It’s all berries,” she said. “”I’ll do it for you. But you owe me something more fun next time.”

  “I’ll be happy to oblige you. We’re going to run into some dangerous people soon.”

  “Promise?” Kelly asked, brightening.

  “Nifty,” Esther said. “I guess I’ll get a wiggle on. Gotta see if that flat tire gets inflated.”

  She popped out of sight.

  Kelly stared at me for a moment, but didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. I already felt guilty for sending Esther back to Class’s place. Odds of him doing anything at this hour were slim, and I knew Esther wanted to spend time with me.

  “I know, I know,” I said.

  “Change into some sweat pants, Jonathan. We’re going down to the gym to work out.”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of training lately.”

  “More is better,” she said.

  “It’s late, and I have more research to do.”

  “Between research and training, you know which will be better for you.”

  “The research is important. A bunch of FBI files on Hitler were declassified. I need to download
them so I can read them. If nothing else, they’ll put me to sleep.”

  “Train now. Download the reports later,” she said. “After I kick your ass a bit, you’ll sleep just fine.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A statue of Neptune, the Roman god of the sea, stood guard in a fountain in front of the Thomas Jefferson Building, which housed the Rare Books Division of the Library of Congress. A statue of a sea nymph on a horse stood on the left, and another sea nymph on a horse stood on the right.

  The building itself was a big white Beaux-Arts style structure erected at the end of the nineteenth century, and it took up the entire block. The second floor pavilion entry was lined with portico busts of nine men. The arched windows on the first floor featured ethnological heads as keystone ornaments. It was an impressive sight.

  Kelly went inside when the building opened so she could keep an eye on things. Esther kept me company in front of the Neptune fountain. Class had slept through the night, and while Esther had roamed the congressman’s house, she’d found nothing to suggest any occult status. Class kept his magical life separate from his home.

  A soft wind rustled my hair, and I wished I’d worn something heavier. I wore a thin, black leather jacket over a light blue shirt, tan pants, and brown loafers. Business casual.

  “Is that them?” Esther asked, pointing.

  I turned my head.

  Sure enough, Maria walked down the sidewalk flanked by her two bodyguards. She wore a smart blue business jacket over a white blouse and a tasteful blue skirt. Her shoes were white this morning. Large silver hooped earrings dangled from her earlobes.

  The men were dressed exactly as they had been the previous night with black suits and red power ties. I guess it made shopping a breeze. When they moved, I could tell each had a shoulder holster, and backup guns on their ankles. The cuffs of their pants should have been cut a little wider to obscure the bulge of the holsters.

  “Esther, go ahead and pop inside. Maria is a medium, so she might be able to see you. I don’t want her to know you’re with me.”

  “Careful, Jonathan,” Esther said. “A skirt like that can make a sap out of you without even trying.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, but Esther popped away before I finished the sentence.