“Then let's get out of here before they do!” Aya said, quickly falling into a panic as the walls seemed to be closing in around them.
They hurried toward the back. There had to be a better exit, maybe a maintenance exit for the workers for when they loaded new attractions into the museum. They managed to find one at the very back of the museum, down a long narrow corridor past the staff break rooms. Oniel kicked the door open to the outside, when there was a shout behind them.
“Stop right there!”
A security guard was behind them, with police officers flanking him. They were about a fifty yards down the corridor. Purdue held the case with the artifacts inside tightly and then pushed his allies forward out the door. They needed to put more distance than that between them and the authorities.
“Split up, get back to the ship as quick as you can,” Purdue said as they all hurried out into the city. Purdue sprinted into an alleyway, while Oniel, Alton, and Aya all chose their own directions and dispersed. Unfortunately, the streets weren't crowded enough this time of night to simply disappear into the crowd. They had to really hurry.
The police and security guards couldn't be that far behind. He glanced back as he ran to see if any were following him, and sure enough, there was a couple of policemen running in his direction. He could hear sirens dispersing in the distance, trying to chase down his friends in their cruisers. Hopefully, his three crew mates could handle themselves.
They had what they needed now. He just had to keep going and get to the ship. The heist hadn't gone exactly as planned, and this was a sticky situation he was in now, but once they were out to open waters, they could put this mess behind them. It would all just be a slight bump in the road on their quest to find Admiral Ogden's treasure hoard.
Purdue kept running with the long carrying case in hand. Hopefully that brittle old sword wouldn't break apart from this whole ruckus. It probably hadn't been moved in years. It was more than fragile, and now it was caught in the middle of a chase.
The guards were close behind, practically on his heels. The operation wasn't going as well as he hoped, but was close to what he realistically expected. When did any plan work perfectly? Nothing was easy when it came to finding rare artifacts. It never had been. There were always going to be bumps in the road; or in their case now, rough waters ahead.
Purdue scurried down another street, and he kept looking back every few seconds to see if his pursuers were still there. He could see them, pushing their way through passersby. He made for the docks as quickly as he could. When he got there, he sprinted across the pier and nearly leaped up the ship’s gangplank in haste. His crew were all gathered, helping him get aboard. He could see Aya, Oniel, and Alton among them.
“Is everyone here?” Purdue gasped out, looking around the deck and then back down at the approaching guards. “Are we all here?”
“Yes,” Aya said, looking past him at the police officers and security force running down the pier.
Purdue yelled out, “Well come on then! Raise the anchor or whatever the hell we need to do to get the hell out of here now!”
The crew hurried and pried the mooring lines off of the dock. The engines came to life and hummed beneath them as they ship slowly pulled away from it had been docked. They were breaking away from the shore, out to sea just in time.
A couple daring policemen leaped from the dock in a fleeting attempt to catch them, but the ship was inches out of reach. They missed the boat and tumbled down into the water with a splash. Some of the crew cheered triumphantly as they left their pursuers back on dry land. Even Purdue joined in. If he didn't feel like a criminal before, he sure did now.
“That could have gone better,” Aya mused beside him, staring at the police swimming back to the pier.
“Aye,” Purdue said, but then shrugged. “Then again, it could have gone much, much worse.”
He put the case containing the cutlass with the other ones they had taken from the museum. They now had all of Admiral Ogden's belongings, and hopefully a way to decipher his maps. It may not have gone smoothly, but their hodgepodge of a plan did succeed, and that was all that mattered right now.
A voice rang out behind him. “Don't move!”
The whole crew instinctively disobeyed the command and turned around to see who was giving it. A policeman was pointing a gun at them. Water dripped off of his face and his clothes were soaked. He'd obviously managed to cling onto the ship even after his dive from the pier. Purdue was slightly impressed.
The officer repeated his order, this time more firmly. “Do not move.”
Purdue took a step forward, hoping he could talk his way out of this one. His crew mates watched him with concern; they actually looked worried about him. That was surprising and even made him feel a little good despite the gun in his face.
Purdue put his hands up. “There's no need for the gun, friend. You caught us. Fair and square.”
“Do not move!” The policeman repeated again, his face glistening with sweat or salt water. “Don't.”
“Alright, alright,” Purdue said.
The policeman was young and his mannerisms spoke to his inexperience. The gun was shaking in his hand and his eyes were filled with trepidation. He wanted to do his job, but he didn't want to shoot anybody. All of this must have been his first real action since he joined.
“You have the controls, aye?” Purdue offered helpfully.
“Don't move!” The officer barked. “Please! Just—”
The policeman let out a horrible gasp, like the air had just been forcibly exorcised from his body. His gaze was wide with surprise and fear as he crumbled to his knees.
Oniel rose from behind him, having quietly made his way to the policeman's blind spot with the same silence he always acted with. Purdue hadn't even noticed him sneak back there.
The officer dropped his gun and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, as he collapsed onto a heap on the deck. A large red stain was spreading along the back of his shirt.
Oniel stood as tall as ever with a bloody knife in his grasp. He peered down at the fresh corpse without any visible reaction. The entire murder was done with such calm collective attitude that it sent a shiver down Purdue's spine.
“The hell did you do?!” Purdue snapped, still reeling from the past thirty seconds. An innocent, law-enforcing person killed for trying to stop criminals; for doing his job and trying to stop criminals. Now he was dead, and who knew what he left behind?
“What he had to do,” Alton answered for his twin brother, walking out from the group of spectators. He crouched down and picked up the dead officer's pistol. He removed the gun's ammunition clip and chucked it into the sea. He then tossed the gun itself overboard. “My brother protected this ship and protected the Wharf Man's investment. Oh yeah, and he protected you. I think you should be thanking him.”
Purdue didn't want to. He didn't want to be in that creep's debt. He could have gotten them out of it and he could have done it peacefully, with just a conversation. Instead, those twins had to ignite unnecessary bloodshed. They killed an innocent man and were acting like it was a good thing.
Alton and Oniel each picked up two of the policeman's limbs, raising him up as blood still fell from his body. They carried him over to the ship's railings, ready to throw him overboard just like they had his gun.
Purdue moved forward to stop them but was too stunned to take any further action, as they heaved the body over the side and dumped it into the ocean.
When the twins looked back, they could obviously see Purdue's disapproval written all over his face. Alton snickered under his breath and gave a casual shrug. “What? The sea is a fine place for a private burial.”
“They'll never find him...” Purdue said, realizing that the police officer would be considered a missing person for some time, and eventually considered dead, but there would be no evidence. No body for his family to bury or burn. There would be nothing physical to mourn, just a feeling that he was gon
e, and a slim hope that maybe he could return some day.
“So?” Alton asked with a confused smile, like Purdue was playing him. “Go ahead and say some final words for him, if you really want. He can't hear you, though, so what is the point, hmm?”
There were giggles from some of the crew. Purdue could feel the respect he'd earned from them slipping away just a bit. He was being treated like a pest by the twins, but this was his venture, not theirs.
Alton looked past Purdue to address the rest of the crew more directly. “The Wharf Man told us to make sure no one got in the way of him getting his money.” He waved his hand toward the water, where the police officer's body was probably sinking to the ocean floor. “That man there got in the way. We will do the same thing if anyone else does. Anyone.”
It was a warning to the crew; a threat even. That much was clear, and Purdue's shipmates looked rightfully mortified by Alton's words.
In that moment, it occurred to Purdue that while the crew was full of criminals who were willing to steal and smuggle, and break laws, they weren't stone-cold murderers like the twins clearly were. Neither of them batted an eye when they so callously disposed of the policeman. No wonder they were the Wharf Man's most trusted lieutenants. They were willing to cut someone down without hesitation. The boss must have loved that. They were efficient tools to use when he wanted something. Precise, and most importantly, sharp.
The casual way they committed horrible violence—killing even—reminded Purdue of Julian Corvus. The twins shared his tactic of using sudden acts of aggression to make a point. They were the same brand of monster. The only difference was they lacked Julian's ambition. That was good. They may have been beasts but they at least still had someone they answered to.
Alton and Oniel walked through the crowd of shaken crew members. They brushed past Purdue and he could almost feel how cold they were, as it was radiating off of them.
Oniel would probably have stuck his tongue out at him if he still had one.
Despite Purdue having the map and leading the expedition, it was obvious who was really in control. It was the Wharf Man's ship, after all, and through those twins, his big grubby hands were still all over it.
After successful raids, the pirates who were part of Admiral Ogden's fleet would meet with their flagship to collect what they managed to plunder during their own ventures. The rules were simple and Admiral Ogden made sure that they were followed. Everything valuable would be handed over to him, no exceptions, and if it was discovered that any of his fleet were withholding or hiding any of their loot, the punishment could be incredibly severe. The rules were strict but fair, and most of the ships in Ogden's fleet respected and followed those rules without any resistance. They all knew who was in charge, despite their vast numbers.
As far as where the gold went after it was pooled together, that knowledge was left only to a chosen few, hand selected by Ogden himself. And many of them vanished entirely after transporting the gold to wherever Ogden took it. Not even the other captains were privy to the exact location of what must have been the biggest hoard of treasure ever collected. Maybe it was paranoia but Ogden preferred to think that it was just being sensible. He couldn't have anyone decide to go take all of his hard earned money while he was sailing the high seas.
Everyone seemed happy enough with the fair share he gave them of the loot. It was always a good cut of it that allowed them to enjoy their lives, when they weren't risking their lives on the high seas.
The only exception, it seemed, was his former first mate, Jacob Morrow, who seemed more and more frustrated by not having any direct access to the gold that he help acquire. He was a cunning seaman, and the ship he captained, the Iron Horn, was one of their toughest vessels. Ogden should have expected that his old friend would confront him about being left in the dark at some point.
As three crews from their fleet gathered at a tavern in Nassau after a lucrative raid, Morrow took a seat at the corner table where Admiral Ogden had been sitting alone. Their crew mates in the tavern around them all drank, laughed, and sang together all around them. Their lone table in the corner was noticeably quiet and dour in comparison to the rest of the place.
Morrow poured himself a drink. He didn't offer any to Ogden. The two men sat in silence for a number of minutes, with Morrow downing his drink while Ogden stared at him from across the table.
Finally, Morrow spoke what was so evidently on his mind. “What exactly are we going to do with all of this gold?”
“I'm not quite sure what you mean,” Ogden said passively, not wanting to get too defensive.
“I mean that we have more money than God himself and we just keep taking more, and more. What are we doing all of this for at this point, hmm? You saving up to buy yourself your own private country? Your own continent? The whole world itself?”
“No,” Ogden said honestly. “What are you on about? There's nothing wrong with making a profit.”
“Maybe not, but you do have to wonder why we put so much effort into making it when we have enough gold to live like kings for the rest of our days. All I'm saying is ... there comes a time when it starts to feel like we're amassing all of this wealth for no reason other than to be able to say that we have.”
Admiral Ogden raised a brow. “You think we're wasting our time.”
“I think we're wasting our energy,” Morrow corrected. “Sure, having mountains of treasure is great but it's worthless if we don't use it. Especially if we don't use it to get to somewhere better than where we are now. To purchase something big or to increase our station in life. We've gotten so much, yet ... how better off are we now than we were when we first started?”
“Have you lost faith in me, is that it?”
“No,” Morrow said with some exasperation. “I haven't lost faith. I just want to know why we are sitting idly by on a gold mine and not doing a damn thing with it. It's started to feel like you're just grooming your ego.”
“My ego?” Ogden laughed but Morrow wasn't laughing with him. “Then you and anyone else who doubts me are just going to have to trust me and my ego a little longer.”
Morrow didn't look very pleased with how the conversation went, especially since he didn't even get a straight answer about what was going to be done with the gold.
Ogden wasn't bothered by Morrow's feelings. He didn't owe anyone any explanations, no matter what position they had in their fleet. They just needed to learn to be more patient and to trust in his capabilities. They needed to remember that they might have been captains of their respective vessels, but he still had complete control over those ships.
They all worked for the gold, yes, but Admiral Ogden was still the leader of all of them. As such, it was his responsibility to make sure that their prizes were safe. He would see to it that they all received their fair share eventually. For now, insubordination wasn't going to help keep that treasure safe. He only trusted himself to make sure that its location wasn't compromised.
His treasure had to be kept safe.
INTERLUDE 3 – SAM IS TURNED UPSIDE DOWN
“I'm going to be running out of gas soon.”
Sam didn't respond to Ulrich's complaining from behind the wheel. He'd been listening to him and Roland moan and groan ever since he essentially took them hostage. Taking people hostage wasn't something he had much experience in, but he made an exception when those hostages were otherwise murderers and sociopaths who had taken him hostage first.
Sam didn't have a plan. He wished he did, but nothing was coming to mind about how to proceed. He had the gun in his hand, and he had two Black Sun agents held hostage, driving him to an undecided destination. They'd been driving for hours. Part of Sam didn't mind that. He had already avoided capture by staying mobile and bouncing from motel to motel. Staying entirely mobile in a car helped ensure his safety even more ... but it couldn't last long. He needed a plan and he needed one very, very soon.
“Pull over up ahead.”
“We're in the mid
dle of nowhere,” Ulrich growled.
Sam waved the pistol in his hand at the rear-view mirror. “Just keep going.”
At least he was the one holding the gun, dictating the situation, but outside of using it on the two operatives, he didn't know how else to really get out of this predicament. If he ditched them and stranded them on the side of the road, he was sure they would eventually track him down again. They did it once before. If they were as good of hunters as they claimed, then it would only be a matter of time until he was their prisoner once more. Only next time, they would make sure he didn't get the gun. This was his only chance, and he couldn't waste it.
Roland didn't look very nervous. In fact, he looked more at ease than he had the entire time Sam had the gun. It seemed like things had somehow improved for him, even though he was still Sam's hostage. “There's something you should know about us, Mr. Cleave. I think you will find it quite interesting.”
“Yeah? And what's that?”
“You of course already know that the Order of the Black Sun has people everywhere. I mean everywhere. It's quite the network of members dispersed all over the globe.”
“This isn't news to me,” Sam said. “Purdue and I fought your friends in all kinds of different countries. It's a real pain in the ass that all of you Black Sun goons seem to just sprout out of the ground. I already know you all have a disturbing amount of members in your club.”
“Of course, of course,” Roland said with an amused cough. “But, as you can imagine, communication can be difficult with that many members. We need advanced tools to overcome that challenge. Ways to be able to get the order's attention when we need. A way to know each other’s' locations in case of an emergency. A quick and easy way to send messages.”
A wicked smile stretched across his face, like he was the only one who knew the funniest joke in the world. In the rear-view mirror, Ulrich's smile was visible as well, and it looked just as triumphant.
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 9 Page 27
