Order of the Black Sun Box Set 6

by Preston William Child

  “Oh!” the agent snapped out of his reminiscence. “Um, well, I do enjoy wires.”

  Purdue looked up from his programming screen for the first time, trying to unravel the mysterious statement. Turning to face Patrick, he exhibited an expression of bewildered curiosity and said simply, “Wires.”

  Patrick laughed.

  “I am a climber. I enjoy rope and wire to keep me fit. As Sam may or may not have told you before, I am not much in the way of a thinker or a mentally motivated. I would much rather engage in the physical strain of climbing, diving or martial arts,” Patrick elaborated, “than to learn more about an obscured subject or savvy myself in the webs of physics or theology, regrettably.”

  “Why, regrettably?” Purdue asked. “Certainly with only philosophers in the world we would not be able to build, explore or basically construct engineering genius. It would stay on paper and be pondered over without people who physically do the scouting, don’t you agree?”

  Patrick shrugged, “I suppose. Never thought much on it before.”

  Just then, he realized that he just mentioned the subjective paradox and it made him giggle sheepishly. Still, Patrick could not help but be intrigued by Purdue’s diagrams and codes. “Come on, Purdue, teach a layman something about technology,” he coaxed as he pulled up a chair. “Tell me what you are really doing here.”

  Purdue gave it a moment’s thought before responding in his usual well-founded confidence. “I am building a security device, Patrick.”

  Patrick smiled mischievously. “I see. To keep out MI6 in the future?”

  Purdue returned Patrick’s impish grin and amicably bragged, “Yes.”

  ‘You are almost right, old cock,’ Purdue thought to himself, knowing that Patrick’s insinuation was dangerously close to the truth, with a twist, of course. ‘Wouldn’t you love to mull this one over if you only knew that my device is made especially for MI6 to suck on?’

  “I am?” Patrick gasped. “Then tell me how it wor…oh, wait,” he scoffed cheerfully, “I forgot I am included in the dreadful organization you are combatting here.” Purdue laughed with Patrick, but both men shared undisclosed wishes they could not reveal to one another.

  18

  Across the Heavens

  Three days later the group boarded a Super Hercules rented by Purdue, having had a select group of men under Col. Yimenu’s supervision load the precious Ethiopian cargo.

  “Will you be coming with us, Colonel?” Purdue asked the grumpy, but passionate old veteran.

  “On the expedition?” he asked Purdue abruptly, although he appreciated the wealthy explorer’s cordiality. “No, no, not at all. That onus is on you, son. You must make your amends alone. At the risk of being rude, if you don’t mind I would rather not engage in social conversation with you.”

  “That is alright, Colonel,” Purdue replied respectfully. “I understand completely.”

  “Besides,” the veteran continued, “I would not want to go through the turmoil and pandemonium you have to face when you return to Aksum. You have earned the hostility you will be facing, and quite frankly, if anything should happen to you while you are delivering the Holy Box, I would not exactly think it an atrocity.”

  “Wow,” Nina remarked from where she was sitting in the open ramp flap, having a smoke. “Don’t hold back.”

  The colonel leered at Nina. “Tell your women to mind their own business too. Insurrection from females are not tolerated in my land.”

  Sam switched on his camera and waited.

  “Nina,” Purdue said before she even reacted, hoping she would abandon whatever hell she was urged to unleash on the judgmental veteran. His eyes stayed locked on the colonel’s, but his eyes closed when he heard her get up and approach. Sam just smiled from his vigil inside the belly of the Hercules while he pointed the lens.

  The colonel watched the petite hellcat walk towards him with a smile, flicking her nail over her cigarette butt as she moved. Her dark hair fell wildly over her shoulders and the slight breeze swept the locks around her temples over her piercing brown eyes.

  “Tell me, Colonel,” she said quite gently, “do you have a wife?”

  “Of course I do,” he replied sharply, keeping his eyes on Purdue.

  “Did you have to abduct her or did you just have your military lackeys mutilate her genitals so that she would not know that your performance is as rotten as your social decorum?” she asked plainly.

  “Nina!” Purdue gasped, turning to look at her in shock while the veteran exclaimed, “How dare you!” behind him.

  “Sorry,” Nina smiled. She took a nonchalant puff of her cigarette and blew the smoke in Col. Yimenu’s face. “My apologies. I shall see you in Ethiopia, Colonel.” She started back toward the Hercules, but turned halfway to finish what she wished to say. “Oh, and on the flight there I shall take real good care of your Abrahamic abomination over here. Don’t you worry.” She pointed at the so-called Holy Box and gave the colonel a wink before disappearing into the blackness of the vast cargo hole of the plane.

  Sam stopped his recording and tried to keep a straight face. “You know they would put you to death over there for what you did,” he teased.

  “Aye, but I did not do it over there, now, did I, Sam?” she mocked. “I did it right here on Scottish soil using my heathen disobedience to any culture that disrespects my gender.”

  He scoffed in amusement and packed away his camera. “I caught your good side, if that is any consolation.”

  “You bastard! You recorded that?” she wailed, grabbing at Sam. But Sam was much bigger, faster and stronger. She had to settle for his word that he would not show it to Paddy, otherwise he would throw her off the excursion for fear of persecution by the colonel’s people once she arrived in Aksum.

  Purdue apologized for Nina’s uttering, although he could not have given a better low blow. “Just keep her well guarded, son,” the veteran growled. “She is small enough for a shallow grave in the desert where her voice would be made still for good. And not the best archaeologist would be able to analyze her bones even in a month.” With this, he started towards his waiting Jeep on the opposite side of the large flat apron of the airport at Lossiemouth, but Purdue stepped in front of him.

  “Colonel Yimenu, I might owe your country recompense, but do not for a moment think you can threaten my friends and walk away. I will not tolerate death threats against my people or myself, for that matter, so please, a word of advice,” Purdue seethed in a serene tone that implied slow burning fury. His long index finger lifted and stayed afloat between his face and Yimenu’s. “Do not tread on the smooth cover of my turf. You will find that you are too heavy to elude the spikes below.”

  Patrick suddenly shouted, “Right, everyone! Get ready for take-off! I want all my people cleared and accounted for before we close up, Colin!” He barked orders without ceasing, so that Yimenu felt too annoyed to continue his threats against Purdue. Soon after, he was hastily tramping to his vehicle under the cloudy cold of Scottish skies, tugging at his jacket to fight the chill.

  In mid-command, Patrick stopped shouting and looked at Purdue.

  “I heard that, you know?” he said. “You are a suicidal son of a bitch, David, talking down to a king before you are due in his bear pen.” He stepped closer to Purdue. “But that was the coolest fucking thing I have ever seen, mate.”

  With a pat on the billionaire’s back, Patrick continued to address one of his agents to sign off on a sheet attached to the man’s clipboard. Purdue wanted to smile as he bowed forward slightly on entering the plane, but the realness and crude manner of Yimenu’s threat on Nina was on his mind. It was yet another thing he would have to keep his eye on at the same time as keeping track with Karsten, MI6’s dealings, keeping Patrick in the dark about his boss and keeping them all alive while they replaced the Holy Box.

  “Everything okay?” Sam asked Purdue when he sat down.

  “Perfect,” Purdue replied in his light manner. “So fa
r we have not been shot.” He looked at Nina, who cowered a little now that she had calmed her temper.

  “He asked for it,” she muttered.

  For the most part, the ensuing take-off took place in conversational white noise. Sam and Purdue were discussing territories they have visited before on assignments and tourist trips, while Nina put her feet up for a snooze.

  Patrick was going over the itinerary and noted the coordinates of the temporary archaeological village where Purdue last fled for his life. For all his military training and knowledge of global laws, Patrick was subconsciously nervous about their arrival there. After all, the security of the expedition party was his responsibility.

  While silently regarding the seemingly jovial exchange between Purdue and Sam, Patrick could not help but be haunted by the program he found Purdue rushing through when he came into the Wrichtishousis laboratory complex under the ground floor. He had no idea why he was paranoid about it at all, because Purdue had explained to him that the system was designed to separate certain areas of his premises by remote control activation, or something of that sort. He had never been one for technical jargon anyway, so he reckoned Purdue was touching up his home security to keep out any agents who had learned the security codes and protocols while the mansion was under MI6 lockdown. ‘Fair enough,’ he thought in conclusion, a bit unsatisfied with his own validation.

  Over the next few hours, the mighty Hercules roared its way across Germany and Austria, on its taxing journey down to Greece and the Mediterranean Sea.

  “Does this thing ever land to refuel?” Nina asked.

  Purdue smiled and shouted, “This Lockheed breed can go on and on and on. That is why I love these big machines!”

  “Aye, that answers my layman’s inquiry completely, Purdue,” she said to herself, just shaking her head.

  “We should hit the African shores in just under another fifteen hours, Nina,” Sam tried to give her a better idea.

  “Sam, please don’t use that colorful phrase, ‘hitting the shore’ round about now. Ta,” she moaned, to his amusement.

  “Safe as houses, this thing,” Patrick smiled and patted Nina on the thigh to reassure her, but he did not realize where he put his hand until he had already done so. Quickly he removed his hand, looking mortified, but Nina just laughed. Instead, she put her hand on his thigh with a mock serious, “It’s alright, Paddy. My jeans will prevent any kinky business.”

  Relieved, he shared a hearty chuckle with Nina. Although he was more for a docile and demure type of woman, Patrick could understand Sam and Purdue’s deep attraction to the feisty historian and her forward, unafraid approach.

  The sun had set over most of the local time zones just after they took off, so by the time they reached Greece, they were flying in the night sky. Sam checked his watch and discovered that he was the only one still awake. Whether by boredom or catching up on rest for what was to come, the rest of the party was asleep in their seats by now. Only the pilot exclaimed a groan of awe and asked the co-pilot, “Do you see that, Roger?”

  “Oh, there?” the co-pilot asked and pointed ahead of them. “Yeah, I see it!”

  Sam’s curiosity had a rapid reflex and he quickly looked ahead to where the man pointed. His face lit up at the beauty of it and he watched intently until it disappeared into the darkness. “God, I wish Nina could see that,” he mumbled as he sat back down.

  “What?” Nina asked, still half-asleep when she heard her name. “What? See what?”

  “Oh, no big deal, I suppose,” Sam replied. “It was just a beautiful vision.”

  “Of what?” she asked, sitting up and wiping her eyes.

  Sam smiled, wishing he could film with his eyes so that he could share such things with her. “A brilliantly bright shooting star, love. Just a super bright falling star.”

  19

  Chasing the Dragon

  “Another star fell, Ofar!” Penekal exclaimed as he looked up from the alert on his phone sent through by one of their people in Yemen.

  “I saw,” the weary old man replied to his colleague. “We will have to wait and see what sort of illness befalls humankind next to trace the Magician. A very cautious and high priced test, I’m afraid.”

  “Why do you say that?” Penekal asked.

  Ofar shrugged, “Well, because with the state of the world these days – the chaos, the insanity, the ludicrous mismanagement of basic human morality – it is quite hard to determine which tribulations befall mankind apart from those evils already present, don’t you think?”

  Penekal agreed, but they had to do something to keep the Magician from harvesting more celestial power. “I am going to contact the Freemasons in Sudan. They must know if this is one of their people. Don’t worry,” he halted Ofar’s impending protest to the idea, “I will inquire tactfully.”

  “You cannot let them know that we know something is going on, Penekal. If they as much as get a sniff…,” Ofar warned.

  “They will not, my friend,” Penekal calmed Ofar with a stern negation. They had been standing vigil in their observatory for over two days now, exhausted, taking turns to sleep while looking up at the skies for any unusual deviations in the constellations. “I will be back before midday with some answers, I hope.”

  “Make haste, Penekal. King Solomon’s scrolls predict that the Magician’s power will take mere weeks to become invincible. If he can bring the fallen to the surface of the earth, imagine what he could do up in the heavens. Realigning stars could wreak havoc on our very existence,” Ofar preached through pauses for catching his breath. “If he has the Celeste, none of the iniquities can be retracted.”

  “I know, Ofar,” Penekal said, while gathering up his star maps for his visit to the local master of this Masonic jurisdiction. “The only alternative is gathering all of King Solomon’s diamonds scattered over the earth and that sounds like an insurmountable task to me.”

  “Most of them are still here in the desert,” Ofar comforted his friend. “Very few were taken. Not many are out there to be gathered, so we might have a chance to counter the Magician that way?”

  “Are you insane?” Penekal shrieked. “We will never be able to claim those diamonds back from their owners now!” Tired and feeling quite hopeless, Penekal sank to the chair he had slept in the night before. “They would never relinquish their precious riches for the salvation of the planet. My God, have you not been paying attention to the greed of humans at the cost of the very planet that is keeping them alive?”

  “I have! I have!” Ofar snapped back. “Of course I have.”

  “Then how could you ever expect them to give back their gem stones to two old fools asking that they do it to avoid an evil man with supernatural abilities from realigning the stars and reintroduce Biblical plagues to the modern world?” Penekal ranted to make his friend understand how ridiculous their mission would sound to the outside world.

  Ofar stood up defensively, for once threatening to lose his temper. “Do you not think that I know how it sounds, Penekal?” he barked. “I am no fool! All I am suggesting is that we consider asking for help to collect what is left so that the Magician will not be able to wield his sick ideas and make us all extinct. Where is your faith, brother? Where is your promise to stop this arcane prophecy from coming to fruition? We have to do all in our power to try, at least…try…to fight what is happening.”

  Penekal could see Ofar’s lips quiver and a frightening tremor rattled through his bony hands. “Calm down, old friend. Calm down, please. Your heart will not take the tax on your anger.”

  He sat down next to his friend, maps in hand. Penekal’s voice had considerably toned down in intensity only to keep old Ofar from succumbing to the furious emotion he was suffering. “Listen, all I am saying is, short of buying the remaining diamonds from their owners, we will not be able to obtain them all before the Magician does. It is easy for him to simply kill for them and claim the stones. For us, good men, the task of collecting the same is intrinsically
more difficult.”

  “Then let us gather all our riches. Contact the brothers of all our watch towers, even those in the Orient, and let us purchase the remaining diamonds,” Ofar implored in his hoarse and weary gasps. Penekal could not process the absurdity of the idea, knowing the nature of people, especially the wealthy of the modern world who were still of the mind that stones make kings and queens of them while their future lay barren with misfortune, famine and asphyxiation. However, in order not to upset his lifelong friend any more, he nodded and bit his tongue in implied surrender. “We shall see, alright? Once I have visited with the master and once we know if the Freemasons are behind this, we can see what other options we would have to employ,” Penekal soothed Ofar’s demeanor. “For now, though, get some rest and I will hasten to bring you what is hopefully good news.”

  “I’ll be here,” Ofar sighed. “I will hold the fort.”

  Penekal hailed a taxi down in the city to take him to the home of the head of the local Freemasons. He had made an appointment under the premise that he needed to find out if the Freemasons knew of a rite performed using this particular star map. It was not an entirely deceitful front, but his visit was based more on determining the involvement of the Masonic world with the recent celestial disruptions.

  Cairo was alive with traffic, a peculiar contrast to the ancient nature of its culture. While skyscrapers rose and grew towards the sky, the blue and orange of the firmaments overhead breathed in solemn silence and tranquility. Penekal regarded the sky through the car window, contemplating the fate of mankind seated right there on the throne of the benevolent looking thrones of glitter and peace.

  ‘Much like human nature,’ he reckoned. ‘Much like most things in creation. Order from chaos. Chaos superseding all order across the peaks of time. God help us all in this lifetime if this is the Magician spoken of.’