Sturm moved closer to her, standing in front of her chair, saying nothing for several seconds as he looked down at her, his blue eyes locked on hers. “No,” he said softly.
Mattie looked up at his tanned blond face and open-necked white shirt, sleeves rolled up over his bronzed forearms and saw in his eyes the same look she had seen on the zeppelin that night just before he kissed her. Wait, did he just say that he loved me? What was it? Something like ‘no man could allow the woman he loves to take the risks that you have‘. No, that wasn‘t it. Wait! It was ‘Any man who loves you would say what I‘m saying.‘
Mattie was still angry but he was telling her he cared for her, he thought she was beautiful and he was going to keep her safe. Mattie was all too aware of her strong attraction to this man. She had tried once to rationalize their zeppelin kiss as gratitude on her part but she had always known it was more than that. More even than her undeniable physical attraction to him. She couldn‘t quite put her finger on it but it had been there. And now she knew. From the beginning, their first dinner together, this had been a man she could fall in love with. That she later learned he could coldly kill others in an instant to keep her safe didn‘t change that. In her younger days, she had not been so strict about who she let in her bed. Now, there had to be much more. She didn‘t have to be in love with a man to sleep with him but the promise had to be there. Like it had been with Cockran. Like it was now with Sturm hovering above her.
Sturm bent down, took her face in both hands and gave her a long, deep kiss which Mattie found herself once more returning, rising from her chair, their bodies pressed together in an embrace. She offered no resistance when he unbuttoned her blouse, and she moaned softly when his hand moved up to caress her breasts. Mattie felt his other hand move down to her waist and the buckle of the belt on her trousers. Unlike the buttons on her blouse, he paused as if seeking permission. She drew her face back and kissed him in reply.
She felt him unbuckle her belt and slip it off and then the buttons of her trousers were as magically liberated from the fabric as their cousins on her blouse. She wriggled her hips and the trousers fell in a pool around her ankles. She sighed as she felt Sturm‘s hand slip inside her silk step-ins. Mattie looked up at Sturm‘s face, touching it softly. “We don‘t have to worry about what the servants will say now, do we?” she said, reaching up with parted lips to kiss him again.
As Mattie was soon to learn, Sturm made love the way he danced. He led and you followed. There was no hesitation or indecision on his part once he drew her to his cot. Mattie started out as she always did with a first time lover—on top—and briefly straddled his waist. But he grabbed her hips and effortlessly pulled her forward until his face was between her legs and an image of Cockran doing the same thing flashed through her mind as she felt his hands smoothly slide off her step-ins. She gasped when she felt his fingers inside her and then his tongue. For a moment, Mattie had a sense of déjà vu from her erotic dream on the Graf. But, as it was with Cockran, sensation drove all thought from Mattie‘s mind and her orgasm left her reeling. When Sturm moved from beneath her, she fell forward and lay face down on the cot.
“You are still too tense,” Sturm said, and Mattie felt his knees on either side of her as he began to deeply knead and massage the tense muscles in her shoulders and neck with his strong fingers, the rhythmic pressure flowing through her body, caressing the remains of her orgasm. Then he did the same to her back, her hips and, finally, her legs. Mattie was completely relaxed. and moaned softly as she felt him roll her over. He loomed over her and stripped off his shirt, his chest covered with curls of blond hair, then unfastened his trousers.
In the flickering light of the lantern, she had the unbidden image of Cockran as he had knelt above her that afternoon in his New York townhouse and lowered himself between her legs in a space lit only by fire. Moments later, the image of Cockran was gone, replaced by the ruthless man above her who was taking her body and making it his own.
Later, laying face down on the cot with a spent Sturm sprawled on top, Mattie was exhausted, as played out after making love with Kurt as she invariably was with Cockran. As her breathing returned to normal she was suddenly sad, sad now that someone else had done that for her, someone besides Cockran. A single tear slipped down her cheek at the loss of something so precious which only the two of them once had shared but would no more. All Mattie wanted now was for Kurt to hold her and keep her nightmares away as she slept.
As sleep slowly began to overtake her, with Sturm‘s arms wrapped tightly around her, Mattie felt warm and secure and, if not loved, then wanted. Her nightmares stayed away.
44.
We Have a Problem
Milan
Tuesday, 9 June 1931
COCKRAN had been calculating the distances they would have to travel and the fuel they would consume as the three men drove in the early evening from the aerodrome back to their hotel, the Principe e Savoia. The problem with autogiros was that while the rotary blades provided lift and made the aircraft easier to handle at remarkably low speeds—an Olympic sprinter could actually outpace an autogiro at its lowest airborne speed of 15 miles per hour—the rotary blades didn‘t make it any easier to propel the aircraft forward. Autogiros had to work harder and burn more fuel than fixed wing aircraft just to maintain their modest cruising speed of 75 miles per hour. What that boiled down to was they had a maximum range of about 300 miles before they needed to refuel.
Cockran was still going through the figures in his head as he and Sullivan walked across the Savoia’s lobby to check Rankin in and pick up their room keys when, to his surprise, he heard the familiar and now unwelcome voice of Harmony Hampton.
“Bourke! Bourke! Oh, I‘m so glad I found you,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. Cockran stiffened at her embrace and abruptly pushed her away. She frowned and looked confused.
“What happened? Why are you here? Where‘s Donal?” he asked.
“I don‘t know. It all happened so fast. We stopped in Lausanne and I went with Donal to the telegraph office just as we did in Verona and Milan. The woman‘s loo was right there, so I figured I could slip in quickly and be right back.”
“You left Donal?” Sullivan said, his voice rising. “He wasn‘t on guard outside the loo?”
“No, but he was right next to it! Anyway, I wasn‘t in there more than five minutes or so. When I came out, two blond haired men tried to grab me. I recognized them. They had been on our train. So I screamed and shouted for the police. There were lots of people around and they let me go. I ran back to the telegraph counter but Donal was gone! I didn‘t know what to do!”
“Why didn‘t you return to the train?” Cockran asked.
“I was afraid to go back to the train without Donal. I thought they might be waiting for me. I bought a ticket on the next train back to Milan.”
“How‘d you know to find us here?” Cockran asked.
“It was in the telegram Donal sent you from Turin. Donal told me about the shooting in Piazza San Marco yesterday and that you were going into the mountains to find Mattie. I could see from the address on the telegram that you and Bobby were at a hotel in Milan that looked like Savoy or something. So that‘s what I told the taxi driver and he brought me here. I didn‘t know what else to do! I knew you and Bobby would keep me safe.”
Harmony‘s eyes were red and filled with tears and her hands were shaking as she talked. She certainly seemed to be a frightened and distraught young girl, deserving of sympathy. But Cockran stood there impassively, unable to give any. Mattie‘s letter and the pain this woman had caused her was too fresh. He knew he ought to say something to comfort her but words wouldn‘t come. She could damn well comfort herself.
As Harmony stood there, a sad and bereft figure, Sullivan did something which astonished Cockran. He stepped forward and wordlessly took Harmony in his arms and she returned his embrace, hugging him tightly, burying her head into his chest as she cried.
It was th
e only outward act of warmth Cockran had ever seen Bobby Sullivan display.
“Take her to our rooms” Cockran said, “while I check for messages.”
At the desk, Cockran discovered that Donal hadn‘t sent any messages but someone had done so on his behalf—Dr. Eric Kuhn, a staff physician at the hospital in Lausanne.
Back in their suite, Rankin was in an arm chair beside a sofa where Harmony and Sullivan sat, his arm around her shoulders. All three had drinks in front of them, scotch from the look of it. Cockran directed his comments to Sullivan. “We have a problem,” he said. “Donal‘s in hospital in Lausanne. He was knifed today at the train station. The treating physician says he‘s going to be okay but they‘re keeping him under observation for twenty four hours. He won‘t be able to make it back to Milan until late tomorrow evening. I plan to book two tickets for him and Harmony on the first flight from Milan to Paris on Thursday.”
Harmony slammed her drink down on the low table in front of the sofa and stood up. “No! You can‘t send me back! Not after they attacked me and Donal. He couldn‘t even protect me when he was healthy let alone now that he‘s been wounded. I can‘t do it, I just can‘t. Please don‘t make me” she said and began again to cry. “I want to go with you to find Mattie.
“Harmony. I know you‘re scared, but where we‘re going will be even less safe. Stay here in our suite until Donal arrives tomorrow night. Be sure to stick with him this time and don‘t leave his side. I know you‘re concerned but Donal‘s tough. He‘ll keep you safe. You can‘t come with us. You‘ll only be in the way. We don‘t need you.”
“But you do need me,” Harmony said. “I will not be dead weight. Do any of you have any knowledge of basic medical care? How to properly treat and dress a gunshot wound? I do. Didn‘t I prove myself in Germany when I took care of your wounds?”
Cockran didn‘t have time for this. They had to leave tomorrow morning for Zell-Am-See. He needed to buy supplies and study topographic maps. He needed to brief Sullivan and Rankin. Adding Harmony‘s weight meant less room for petrol––and that would cut their range to 275 miles, tops.
“No, Harmony. You‘re going to England with Donal. That‘s final.”
“But I can‘t stay here alone to wait for Donal. They probably followed me from Lausanne and are watching this hotel right now, just waiting for you to leave. You promised to keep me safe and I won‘t be safe if you leave me here alone. Please, Bourke, you promised!”
Cockran shook his head. Harmony was right. He had promised to keep her safe and he could not in good conscience leave her alone even after what she‘d done to Mattie. They had to leave as early tomorrow as possible and there was no way on earth he was waiting for Donal to arrive tomorrow evening. He no longer trusted Harmony but they were wasting precious time. “OK. We‘ll take you with us. Check into your room and then come back here. I‘ll be briefing Bobby and Sergeant Rankin on our route.”
“Thank you! Oh, thank you!” Harmony said, a sense of relief in her voice. She moved to hug him but he turned to the maps before she could reach him.
Harmony returned to Cockran‘s suite a few minutes later as he was describing the route of their journey and looked over his shoulder at the maps spread out before him. Zell-Am-See was only 157 miles from Milan, which would give him a good idea how their fuel mileage would be affected by the extra weight of Harmony and the surplus fuel containers he would pack into their baggage compartments. The map indicated a small airfield on the outskirts of Zell-Am-See so, with any luck, they would be able to refuel without tapping any of their surplus fuel. Mattie‘s expedition would almost certainly not be traveling in a straight line. If they left two days ago by automobile, they would only now be reaching the foothills of the mountain range where the castle should be. That meant they had at least another two days by foot. With more luck, and if the castle were where Joey Thomas‘ dossier indicated it was, they might even arrive there before Mattie‘s expedition.
All four of them then pored over the remaining topographic maps, trying to find potential spots to land after Zell-Am-See. They couldn‘t fly longer than a four-hour stretch before they would run short on fuel, so that meant they needed to find several potential landing spots in the Grössglockner Alps at 150 mile intervals. His calculations were rough, but Cockran estimated that they would need to refuel about three times in order to make the roundtrip journey from Zell-Am-See without cutting it too close. That meant packing sufficient containers of extra fuel—something he was hoping wouldn‘t weigh the autogiros down too much.
Before the end of the night, they had a complete route planned with two stops the first day and several landing spots within a mile‘s hike of the castle early the next day. Harmony had been businesslike and helpful, determined to prove herself and gain acceptance as more than a passenger. When Cockran complained aloud that he would barely have time to wire Churchill and keep him abreast of their plans while he taught Rankin to fly the next morning, Harmony offered to take care of it. With luck, Cockran thought, they would be airborne as soon as Rankin had logged a few hours of flight time. Then, he fell asleep with Mattie on his mind.
45.
By Packhorse
The Austrian Alps
Wednesday, 10 June 1931
THE sky was beginning to lighten with the dawn as Mattie awoke in Kurt‘s arms. She dressed and walked barefoot back to her tent through the chill alpine air and a camp still asleep, warmed by the memory of their lovemaking last night. A life without Cockran was not something she was looking forward to. It was going to take a long time because she did not fall in love lightly, but a few more memorable nights like that could soften the sting of losing the man she loved. When she reached her tent, she began to look forward to tonight. It wasn‘t the same as looking forward to growing old together with Cockran, but right now it was all she had.
Mattie had second thoughts before they stopped in mid-morning to leave their Mercedes trucks behind and switch to sturdy Haflinger pack horses. The afterglow from Kurt had faded. The Roaring Twenties were over and so were her days of sleeping with a source to get a story like she did that one—and only one—time with Putzi or an occasional shag while on assignment abroad. In fact, Putzi and others in between had been disappointing lovers, in one way or another, compared to Cockran. But, after last night, she sure couldn‘t say that about Kurt. She tried to tell herself it had only been physical but she knew Sturm was attracted to her more than physically, just as she was to him. Alone with her thoughts as they moved along through the alpine meadows between high peaks on either side, her mind kept wandering away from Kurt and back to Cockran. She blushed as she caught herself comparing how the two men made love. She had never done that before. Ever. And it‘s not as if she really had the occasion to do so, being able, as she was, to count her lovers on two hands…with a few fingers left over.
Many things about the two men in bed were the same and yet different. Both equally enjoyable, both skilled and unselfish. But Sturm was more demanding. He knew what he wanted and decided what she needed. There was no room for improvisation by his partner, no time for her to think about what she might want to do next. Yet her sated body was the result. The same blissful point also arrived with Cockran but with him, though the destination was the same, she had a role in determining what route to travel. She was an equal partner in the endeavor. Not so with Sturm. He was the virtuoso in a symphony where only he knew the score. With Cockran, making love was like a jazz duet where their improvisations fed off each other, each one linked to the last. Kurt had been a sweet and tender lover but she really missed the jazz.
Also, Mattie was disturbed by the feelings Sturm expressed for her. She wasn‘t looking to replace Cockran. She just wanted some help getting over him. A diversion. That a ruthless man like Kurt might be falling for her in the process was more than she wanted. Maybe he was a man she could grow to love but she was nowhere near ready to let herself do that again so soon after Cockran. She needed time to heal from the hu
rt of losing Cockran. Last night had certainly been a pleasant diversion but Mattie decided she would not sleep again with Kurt and keep her entire focus on her quest for the Spear. She hoped that would keep both Cockran and Sturm out of her mind.
Mattie found herself avoiding Kurt‘s gaze once they had resumed their trek after lunch. Mattie was annoyed. If she had trouble looking Sturm in the eye on a hike in broad daylight, she didn‘t like what that said about her chances of resisting him tonight on a cot in the darkness. But, she had made her decision and she would stick with it. She looked ahead at Sturm‘s figure carefully managing the rock-strewn riverbank until the glare of sunlight reflecting off the river caused her to blink. She lifted her head, but found little relief in the sky above. The bright afternoon sun was high, blinding her view.
Just then, automatic gunfire erupted from both sides of the river and Mattie dropped to the ground, spared from the glare of sun off the river. She could see the gunfire was coming from a little ways up the hill, and was trained primarily upon Sturm and his men. The attack had been well planned. Ground cover and trees on either side of the canyon walls hid the enemy until it was too late, and now a withering crossfire had them pinned down.
Sturm‘s four men reacted quickly––Willi Wirth and three other hardened Freikorps veterans who had served together in the latter days of the Great War in one of the Kaiser‘s storm battalions. All were battletested and they immediately split up, two men darting right towards their attackers, while Willi and another peeled off to counter the attackers from the left.
At Sturm‘s shouted directions, Mattie took Professor Campbell, the guide, the cook, the remaining porter, and their three pack horses into a group of nearby trees, affording them cover, if not protection, from the gunfire which was not aimed at them. Not yet at least. The loud rattle of automatic weapons fire echoed on either side of her. To the left, Hoch was making his way up to where Sturm‘s two men were returning fire at their attackers. Mattie also could see that, to her right, Sturm and his other two men were not faring as well. Sturm was moving up to help but one of his men was wounded and out of action and the other was returning fire only sporadically. Sturm was facing a tough slog getting into a position where he could return fire. She knew her Walther would not be effective at this range, so she took an assault rifle from one of the pack animals, loaded it with a full clip, and put several more clips in each of the pockets of her trousers and headed out to help Sturm.
The Parsifal Pursuit Page 32
