Order of the Black Sun Box Set 6

by Preston William Child

  “Lily, have you seen Charles?” he asked his housekeeper and cook.

  She turned from the fridge to look at his exhausted expression. Wringing her hands inside the dishcloth she was using, she smiled reluctantly. “Yes, sir. Special Agent Smith had requested that Charles pick up your other guest from the airport.”

  “My other guest,” Purdue said after her. He was hoping that he had not forgotten an important engagement.

  “Yes, Mr. Purdue,” she affirmed. “Charles and Mr. Smith had arranged for him to join you?” Lily sounded a bit worried, more so because she was uncertain about Purdue’s knowledge of the guest. To Purdue it looked as if she was questioning his sanity to have forgotten about something he was not privy to in the first place.

  Purdue tapped his fingers in order against the doorframe for a moment to think. It was better, he reckoned, to play open cards wit the adorable, plump Lily who thought the world of him. “Um, Lily, did I summon this guest? Am I losing my marbles?”

  Suddenly it was all clear to Lily, and she laughed sweetly. “No! Gosh, no, Mr. Purdue, you did not know about this at all. Don’t fret, you have not lost your mind yet.”

  Relieved, Purdue sighed, “Thank God!” and laughed with her. “Who is it?”

  “I don’t know his name, sir, but apparently he offered to assist with your next expedition?” she frowned timidly.

  “Free of charge?” he jested.

  Lily chuckled, “I certainly hope so, sir.”

  “Thank you, Lily,” he said and disappeared before she could answer. Lily smiled in the midday breeze that permeated through the open window by the fridges and freezers where she was packing rations. Softly she said, “It is grand to have you back, my good man.”

  As Purdue passed his labs, he felt nostalgic, but hopeful. Descending below the ground floor of his main hallway, he skipped down the concrete stairwell. It led to the sub-basement where the laboratories lay dark and quiet. Purdue felt a twinge of misplaced fury for the audacity of Joseph Karsten to have claimed his home to violate his privacy, seek out his patented technology and his forensic research as if it was only there at the ready for his scrutiny.

  He did not bother with the large, strong ceiling lights, only switching on the main light at the entrance of the small corridor. Walking past the dark squares of the laboratory door glass, he reminisced about the golden days before things got nasty, political and dangerous. Inside he could still imagine hearing his freelance anthropologists, scientists and interns chatting, arguing about compounds and theories to the tune of running servers and intercoolers. It made him smile, even though his heart ached for those days to return. Now that he was deemed a criminal by most, and his reputation was not favorable to use on resumes anymore, he felt that getting elite scientists to work for him were futile.

  “It will take time, old boy,” he told himself. “Just be patient, for God’s sake.”

  His tall frame sauntered to the left corridor, the sinking concrete ramp feeling sturdy under his feet. It was the concrete poured many ages ago by masons long gone. It was home, and it made him feel a great sense of belonging, more than ever before.

  As he strolled past the inconspicuous door of a storeroom his heart quickened pace and a tingle crawled down his back into his legs. Purdue smiled as he passed the old iron door that blended into the wall by color and texture, knocking twice on it as he went. Finally, the musty smell of the sub-basement’s sunken cellar struck his nostrils. It cheered Purdue a great deal to dwell alone down here again, but he hurried to retrieve the bottle of Crimean wine from the 1930’s to share with his party.

  Charles kept the cellar relatively spotless, the bottles dusted and turned, but other than that, Purdue had instructed the diligent butler to leave the rest of the chamber as it was. After all, it could not be a decent wine cellar if it did not look just a wee bit abandoned and dilapidated. For his brief reminiscence of pleasant things, Purdue had to pay, by the rules of the cruel Universe, and soon his thoughts crept in another direction.

  The wall of the cellar resembled the walls of the oubliette where he was kept by the tyrannical bitch from the Black Sun before she, herself, came to a fitting end. Much as he reminded himself that the dreadful chapter in his life was closed, he could not help but feel the walls closing in on him.

  “No, no, it is not real,” he whispered. “It is just your mind recognizing your traumatic experiences in the form of a phobia.”

  Still, Purdue felt unable to move as his eyes lied to him. With the bottle in his hand and the open door lying just ahead of his step, he felt the hopelessness grip his soul. Trapped in place, Purdue could not take a single step as his heart throbbed rapidly in its fight against his mind. “My God, what is this?” he shrieked, holding his brow with his free hand.

  Everything closed in on him, no matter how he fought the images with his clear sense of reality and psychology. Groaning, he closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to convince his psyche that he was not back in the oubliette. Suddenly a hand gripped him tightly and jerked at his arm, scaring Purdue into a sober terror. Instantly his eyes snapped open and his mind cleared.

  “Jesus, Purdue, we thought you had been swallowed up by a portal or something,” Nina said, still holding his wrist.

  “Oh my God, Nina!” he cried, stretching his light blue eyes wide open to make sure that he stayed in reality. “I don’t know what just happened to me. I…I-I s-saw the oubliette…Christ! I’m losing my mind!”

  He fell against Nina and she wrapped her arms around him as he panted hysterically. She took the bottle from him and placed it on the table behind her, not moving an inch from where she cradled Purdue’s thin and battered physique. “It’s alright, Purdue,” she whispered. “I know that feeling all too well. Phobias are usually born from one traumatic experience. That is all we need to lose our minds, believe me. Just know that it is the trauma of your ordeal and not your sanity crumbling. As long as you remember that, you’ll be fine.”

  “Is this how you feel every time we shove you into a confined space for our own gain?” he asked softly, gasping for air next to Nina’s ear.

  “Aye,” she admitted. “But don’t make it sound so cruel. Before Deep Sea One and the submarine, I would completely lose my marbles every time I am forced to be in a cramped space. Since working with you and Sam,” she smiled and pushed him away slightly to look him in the eye, “I have been forced to confront my claustrophobia so many times, having to face it or get everyone killed, that in essence you two maniacs have helped me cope better with it.”

  Purdue looked around and felt the panic subside. He took a deep breath and ran a caring hand over Nina’s head, curling her locks in his fingers. “What would I do without you, Dr. Gould?”

  “Well, for one thing, you’d be leaving your expedition party in solemn wait for ages,” she coaxed. “So, let us not keep everyone waiting.”

  “Everyone?” he asked curiously.

  “Yes, your guest arrived a few minutes ago with Charles,” she smiled.

  “Does he have a gun?” he teased.

  “I’m not sure,” Nina played. “He might just. At least our preparations will not be boring, then.”

  Sam called down to them from the side of the laboratories. “Come on,” Nina winked, “let’s get back up there before they think we are up to something lewd.”

  “Are you sure that is a bad thing?” Purdue flirted.

  “Hey!” Sam called from the first corridor. “Am I to expect some, uh, grape-stomping going on down here?”

  “Trust Sam to make normal references sound dirty,” Purdue sighed in amusement while Nina chuckled. “You will change your tune old boy,” Purdue shouted. “Once you taste my Ayu-Dag Cahors you will be begging for more.”

  Nina raised an eyebrow and gave Purdue a suspicious look. “Okay, that time you made it dirty.”

  Purdue looked ahead proudly as he started up to the first corridor. “I know.”

  When they joined Sam the three of t
hem walked back up to the hallway stairs to reach the ground floor. Purdue hated that they were both so secretive about his guest. Even his own butler withheld this from him, which made him feel like a frail child. He could not help but feel slightly patronized, but knowing Sam and Nina, he realized they simply wanted to surprise him. And Purdue was spot-on, as always.

  They saw Charles and Patrick having a word just outside the drawing room. To their rear, Purdue noticed a stack of leather satchels and a badgered old coffer. When Patrick saw Purdue, Sam and Nina ascend the stairs to the ground floor, he smiled and gestured for Purdue to come back to the meeting. “Did you bring the wine you so bragged with?” Patrick asked mockingly. “Or did it get stolen by my agents?”

  “God, I would not be surprised,” Purdue muttered jokingly as he passed Patrick.

  When he entered the room, Purdue gasped. He did not know whether to be charmed or alarmed by the vision before him. The man who stood by the hearth smiled warmly, his hands locked obediently in front of him. “How have you been, Purdue Effendi?”

  17

  Foreplay

  “I cannot believe my eyes!” Purdue exclaimed, and he was not kidding. “I cannot. Adjo! Are you really here, my friend?”

  “I am, Effendi,” Adjo Kira replied, feeling rather flattered at the billionaire’s delight in seeing him. “You seem very surprised.”

  “I thought you were dead,” Purdue said sincerely. “After the ledge, where we were fired upon…I was convinced they killed you.”

  “They did, regretfully, kill my brother, Effendi,” the Egyptian lamented. “But that was not your doing. He was shot while driving a Jeep to rescue us.”

  “I hope the man got a proper burial. Trust me, Adjo, I shall pay restitution to your family for everything you did to help me get out of the clutches of both the Ethiopians and those goddamned Cosa Nostra fiends.”

  “Excuse me,” Nina interrupted respectfully. “May I enquire who exactly you are, sir? I must concede that I am a bit lost here.”

  The men smiled. “Of course, of course,” Purdue chuckled. “I forget that you were not with me when I…procured,” he looked at Adjo with a mischievous wink, “the counterfeit Ark of the Covenant from Aksum in Ethiopia.”

  “Do you still have it, Mr. Purdue?” Adjo asked. “Or is it still in that godless house in Djibouti where they tortured me?”

  “Oh my God, they tortured you too?” Nina asked.

  “Yes, Dr. Gould. Prof. Medley’s husband and his trolls were to blame. I must admit, even though she was present I could see that she did not approve. She is dead now?” Adjo asked eloquently.

  “Aye, she was regrettably killed during the Hercules expedition,” Nina affirmed. “But how did you get involved with that excursion? Purdue, why did we not know about Mr. Kira?”

  “He was held by Medley’s people to find out where I was with the relic they so coveted, Nina,” Purdue explained. “This gentleman is the Egyptian engineer who helped me flee with the Holy Box before I brought it here – before the Vault of Hercules was sought.”

  “And you thought he was dead,” Sam filled in.

  “Correct,” Purdue confirmed. “That is why I was dumbfounded to see my ‘late’ friend standing alive and well in my drawing room just then. Tell me, dear Adjo, why are you here, if not just for a rekindled reunion?”

  Adjo looked a little uncomfortable, uncertain of how to explain, but Patrick volunteered to fill everyone in. “Actually, Mr. Kira is here to assist you in returning the artifact to the rightful place you stole it from, David,” he informed them. He cast a quick reprimanding glance at the Egyptian before continuing the clarification, so that everyone could get up to speed. “As a matter of fact, he was coerced by the legal system in Egypt to do so, fueled by the insistence of the Archaeological Crimes Unit. The alternative would be a prison sentence for aiding a fugitive and accessory, for stealing a valuable historical artifact from the people of Ethiopia.”

  “So, your punishment is similar to mine,” Purdue sighed.

  “Except that I would not be able to pay that fine, Effendi,” Adjo clarified.

  “I should think not,” Patrick agreed. “But you would not have been expected to, either, being an accessory as opposed to being the main perpetrator.”

  “So, this is why they are sending you along, then, Paddy?” Sam asked. He was clearly still bothered by Patrick’s inclusion in the expedition.

  “Yes, I suppose. Although all expenses are covered by David as part of his penalty, I am still expected to accompany you all to make sure that there is not more skullduggery afoot that might result in a bigger crime,” he explained with brutal honesty.

  “But they could have sent any senior field agent,” Sam replied.

  “Yes, they could, Sammo, but they picked me, so let’s just do the best we can and get this shite sorted, hey?” Patrick suggested, patting Sam on the shoulder. “Besides, it will give us a chance to catch up on the past year or so. David, shall we imbibe while you explain the course of this upcoming expedition?”

  “I like the way you think, Special Agent Smith,” Purdue smiled, holding the bottle up as prize. “Now, let’s sit down and make note of the necessary special visas and permits we will need to get past customs first. After that we can work out the best route, with the expert help of my man Adjo Kira here, and proceed with the charters.”

  For the rest of the afternoon, up until late evening, the group planned and plotted their return to the land where they would have to face the disdain of locals and the ill words of guides until their mission would be accomplished. It was wonderful for Purdue, Nina and Sam to be back together in Purdue’s massive historical manor, not to mention being in the company of two respective friends to make it just a bit more special this time round.

  By the next morning, they had everything planned and each was burdened with the task of assembling their own gear for the trip, along with checking that their passports and travel documents were correct by order of the British Government, Military Intelligence and the Ethiopian delegates, Prof. Imru and Col. Yimenu.

  The group gathered briefly for breakfast with the stern eye of Purdue’s butler upon them, should they need anything of him. For once Nina did not notice the silent conversation between Sam and Purdue as their eyes locked across the large rosewood table while Lily’s cheerful classic rock anthems echoed far away in the kitchen.

  With only a few minutes of privacy between them the night before, while the others had gone to bed, Sam and Purdue were exchanging ideas on how to expose Joe Carter for the world to see, while at the same time toppling a large chunk of the Order for good measure.

  They had agreed that the task was difficult and would take some time to set up, but they knew they would have to organize some sort of trap for Carter. The man was not stupid. He was calculating and spiteful in his ways, therefore the two had to take time to think through their plans. They could not afford to leave any ties unchecked. Sam had not told Purdue of the visit from MI6 agent Liam Johnson or what he had disclosed to the visitor that night, when he warned Sam of his conspicuous spying.

  Not much time was left in the way of plotting Karsten’s downfall, but Purdue was adamant that he could not rush things. For now though, Purdue had to concentrate on getting the courts off his case so that he could return his life to relatively normal for the first time in many months.

  First, they had to arrange for transportation of the relic in a locked container, secured by customs officials under the watchful eye of Special Agent Patrick Smith. He practically carried Carter’s authority in his wallet with every step taken on this trip, something the high commander of MI6 would not readily approve of. In fact, the only reason he dispatched Smith on the trip to oversee the Aksum Expedition was to get rid of the agent who was too closely acquainted with Purdue to be overlooked through the Black Sun’s scope. But Patrick, of course, did not know this.

  “What on earth are you doing, David?” Patrick asked when he walked in on Pu
rdue busy working in his computer lab. Purdue knew that only the elite of hackers and those with extensive knowledge in computer science would know what he was devising. Patrick was not thus inclined, therefore the billionaire hardly winked when he saw the agent enter the laboratory.

  “Just putting something together I have been working on since before my absenteeism from my labs, Paddy,” Purdue explained cheerfully. “There are still so many gadgets I must complete, fixing the glitches and such, you know. But I figured since my expedition party have to wait for the government approval before we go, I may as well get some work done.”

  Patrick walked in casually, now more than ever realizing what a true genius Dave Purdue was. His eyes were inundated with inexplicable contraptions he could only imagine were extremely intricate in their workings. “Very good,” he remarked, standing in front of one particularly tall server box to watch the little lights bustle to the hum of the machine inside. “I do admire your stamina at these things, David, but you would never catch me near all these motherboards and memory cards and stuff.”

  “Ha!” Purdue smiled, not looking up from his work. “What is it then, Special Agent, that you excel at besides shooting the flame off a candle at an astonishing distance?”

  Patrick chuckled, “Oh, you heard about that?”

  “I did,” Purdue replied. “When Sam Cleave gets drunk, you are usually the subject of his elaborate childhood tales, old boy.”

  Patrick felt flattered at the revelation. With a humble nod, he stood looking at the floor to take in the mental image of the crazy journalist. He knew exactly what his best friend was like when he got pissed and it was always a great party with much hilarity. Purdue’s voice escalated in volume through the flashbacks and merry memories Patrick entertained in his mind right now.

  “So, what is it that allures you most when you are not working, Patrick?”