She was staring at him with the look of deer caught in a hunter's trap.
“Sorry,” she repeated apologetically.
A stocky man loomed behind her; his face looked familiar to Eric. The barrel of a gun was pressed to the back of Floriana’s head.
“Take your gun out and place it on the ground right away or girlfriend’s head will go ... boom!” said the man in English.
Eric pulled his gun from the pocket of his jacket and out of the corner of his eye looked at Johan, who stood silently beside him.
“Put the gun down now,” yelled the man.
Slowly and carefully, Eric placed his gun on the ground and raised his hands painfully with his palms at the height of his head.
“I am glad this time you complied so easily.” A familiar voice sounded behind Floriana and the man with the gun. General Müller appeared from behind them and Eric realized why the man threatening Floriana looked so familiar. He was one of the two soldiers who had accompanied the general during their morning meeting in Beelitz-Heilstätten. The other one was now standing beside the general pointing to Eric with his gun.
“Very good job, Johan,” said the general. Johan accepted the praise with a nod and walked in front of Eric. He grabbed Eric’s gun from the ground and approached the general. Now they were all facing Eric: General Müller, his soldiers, Johan, and Floriana, who stood motionless, gaping at them.
“General Müller, I cannot say I am pleased to see you again,” said Eric.
“I have no doubt. On the contrary, I’m very glad we meet again. There are unresolved issues between you and me and, you know, I always want to have the final say. I believed that we could have a good cooperation, but you disappointed me. You blew up my dream. You ruined what took me decades to complete,” hissed Müller.
“The truth is that Egon was the one who ruined your plans and he gave his life to make it happen,” intervened Floriana.
“Who are you, my dear?”
General Müller approached the young girl and brought his face close to hers as if he was taking a better look at a gem. Floriana looked at him with sparkling eyes, fists clenched beside her thighs, face contorted in rage.
“Do we know each other?”
“I very much doubt it. My name is Floriana Rogers and we’ve never met before.”
As if struck by electricity, General Müller withdrew himself hastily, puzzled. He turned to Johan, who shrugged, baffled. Eric noticed the glare of despair Müller threw across the street. And there, parked a few meters away from them, was a black Mercedes-Benz 770.
“That must be Müller’s team transportation, and they must have arrived while Johan kept Eric occupied with the alleged flat tire,” Floriana thought.
“Who is in the car?” asked Eric.
“You are not in a position to demand answers,” Müller yelled. He seemed to have recovered from the surprise the revelation of Floriana’s name caused him.
“At least tell me how you tracked us down. I think I deserve to know.” Still with his hands in the surrender position, he used the ask-some-silly-questions method to buy some time and think what his next move should be.
“Wrong, again. You deserve nothing. However, I’ll happily answer your question. If you hadn’t trusted Johan, we wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting again. Johan and Jürgen were one of the teams that were scanning the area for the saboteurs. No one expected that you voluntarily fall into the trap.”
“You said you have a Plan B. What is it?” Floriana asked Eric in panic.
“Your existence will soon come to an end. Soldiers, sweep this scum off the face of the earth. You, young lady, you’re coming with me,” said Müller and he grabbed Floriana’s arm.
“Nooooo!”
Even she was startled by the cry that came out of her throat. With a power she did not recognize as her own, Floriana hit General Müller’s chest, forcing him backward. His body forcefully struck the soldier who was standing right behind him and both collapsed noisily on the ground. The other soldier stared at them, dumbfounded, and did not see Floriana’s punch coming towards him. With his jaw smashed, he slumped on the ground. The next moment, Floriana gripped Johan’s neck and smashed his face into the car.
She turned to Eric, who was standing in front of her. Her pupils looked as if they were floating in the middle of a blood pool. Her veins were swollen and ran down her arms like a river with many tributaries. Drops of viscous saliva ran from her mouth and the wound on her arm had filled with yellow pus. She stared at Eric like a rabid dog looking for its next victim.
“Hey, Hulk! Easy!” he yelled.
Her heart pounded frantically in her chest, her breath was quick. A wild shout ripped from her guts before she collapsed over the bodies of men she had just crippled.
Eric rushed by her side. “Remind me never to get you pissed off,” he said as he checked her pulse.
“What’s happening to me?” she asked.
“You experienced a crisis like the one Egon had at the House of the Roses. The pressure and the anger you felt caused the precipitation of symptoms, which means that the virus is progressing in your blood system faster than anticipated. And that was my Plan B.”
“You got to be kidding me.”
As Eric helped Floriana get to her feet, his body buckled from the pain of his injured shoulder.
“We are not in our best shape, I think,” he said while assisting her to get into the white Beetle car.
Floriana collapsed in the passenger seat as Eric ran back where the unconscious men lay. He knelt over Johan and stretched his arm to retrieve his own gun from beneath the man’s heavily injured body, when the sound of a car engine alerted him. The black Mercedes-Benz 770 he had earlier spotted parked across the road was now moving away. But it was another motion that caught Eric’s eye. As the vehicle passed by, the rear window behind the driver rolled down and then up as if the person who handled it vacillated about whether they should reveal themselves. The movement was brief and the window opening was small but Eric managed to see locks of silver hair whipping around as the light breeze sneaked into the car cabin. He kept watching the car running fast until it vanished into the forest they had left behind. Then he got back to the Beetle and took his place behind the wheel.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Floriana.
“Better than expected. It doesn’t hurt that much, but I’m frightened to death. Yes, death is the right word. Eric, am I going to die?”
“Don’t be silly, you are not going to die.” He cracked a smile. “In a half hour at the latest we’ll be back at Weengarts. I am sure Vittor will have the antidote made. You will get it, and everything will be fine again.”
“Not everything. Egon won’t be with us. Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” said Floriana.
“It's okay, it's not your fault anyway,” he replied. “I knew Egon my whole life. It’s very difficult to imagine how my life is going to be without him by my side. He wasn’t only my best friend; he was my partner in our missions for the Order. I always felt secure when Egon had my back.”
“Can’t we go back in time and save his life?”
“This isn’t how this works.” His voice indicated that this discussion was painful to him. “But we’ll talk about this another time. You’d better get some rest now. Any fatigue will likely accelerate the spread of the virus in your blood and, if that happens, Vittor will be very unhappy.”
“I won’t be happy either.” Floriana chuckled, but soon afterward she got serious again. “How can we be sure that the antidote will be ready by the time we get back to Weengarts? Is there any way we could contact Vittor and ask him about the progress of his work?”
“We’re in a different era, remember?”
“I’m so sorry. I know I sound foolish,” she said, red-cheeked.
“If you look for perfection, you’ll never be satisfied. Do you know who said that?”
Floriana shook her head weakly.
“Leo Tols
toy in his novel Anna Karenina. Have you read it?” He tried to keep the conversation rolling to make sure she didn’t pass out.
“Unfortunately, not.”
“There is an old copy of it in the Academy library, one of the first prints. You should borrow it when we get back.”
“If we get back.”
“Of course we will.” He stared at her. “We’ll be at the airport in a few minutes. We’ll get in the time machine and go back to where we belong.”
“And what if we don’t manage to get the time machine?” Floriana stuttered.
“Don’t worry. I have a Plan B.”
Floriana was now lying beside him, frail and brittle, like she was already gone.
He drove madly, taking nervous glances at the girl’s unconscious body, listening to her breathing, trying to detect any changes to the weak rhythm of her inhalations and exhalations. They needed to get to Weengarts as fast as possible; they needed to get back before it was too late.
CHAPTER 12
*
She could not remember much of what followed after their arrival in Weengarts. She did remember that Eric carried her up in his arms into the Clocksworth Academy. She recalled the concerned look she saw on Valerie’s and Carson’s faces when they realized how poorly she was. She remembered the Master caressing her hair protectively as she was lying in bed in the room prepared for her. She recollected Vittor giving her a shot in her arm. Beyond that, blank...
She was told that she had been sedated for about a week. A doctor named Dr. Camilleri oversaw the restoration of her health and his face was the first thing Floriana had seen a few hours before when she opened her eyes after a seven-day-long sleep.
Now, lying in her comfortable bed, she took a look around the large bedroom. Rosewood furniture, green velvet armchairs decorated with fluffy cushions, a curtain of elegant ivory lace hanging at the window, and red roses in a heavy crystal vase on the nightstand beside her bed cozied up the room.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Come in,” she responded weakly. Eric made his appearance behind the half-open door. He looked flawless in his beige linen trousers and his white, V-neck shirt. However, this time it was a book he was holding in his hands, not a tan envelope.
Floriana sat up in the bed and beckoned him to sit in an armchair.
“You look well,” he said as he sank into the chair.
“Thanks to you,” she replied, straightening her cotton pajama shirt. “I wouldn’t have made it without your help.” She smiled shyly. “Did we get the time machine?”
“Oh... nobody told you?”
“Tell me what?”
“You fainted away before we reached their secret base. I couldn’t risk losing you, so I pulled over and made the jump right there.”
“You mean we left the time machine behind?” Floriana’s jaw dropped.
“Exactly,” Eric said quietly.
“But you said that you had plan B.”
“That was my Plan B. Bringing you back home alive.”
“But you shouldn’t have done it! You should have left me behind. You should have destroyed their time machine! What’s going to happen now? Are they going to alter history again?” She shouted furiously.
“They will surely do. But it won’t be the first time someone tries to alter history. We’ll stop them just like we stopped many others before. We’re that good.” Eric retained his calm attitude.
“You would have succeeded if it wasn’t for me. I was a distraction, a burden,” she said, her eyes watery.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. The rings let us come back. And you did a great job. You cracked the code to which Vittor concocted an antidote. And you gave General Müller and his friends a good lesson. You acted like a Ninja. Ninja Flora,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Do not call me Flora,” she protested.
“Okay. Just Ninja.” His lips parted a little at first then quickly widened into a roguish smile.
“Please, this is a moment of my life I don’t even dare to remember.” She blushed.
“Why? You saved the world, Floriana.”
“We all did,” she replied bashfully, avoiding his gaze. She cupped her rosy cheeks trying to get the warmth off her face.
Eric glared at the book he had in his hands. “The book I told you about. Anna Karenina. I borrowed it from the House’s library.” He caressed the old leather cover. “First edition. Published in 1889. William Faulkner once called it the best ever written novel.” His light-blue eyes shadowed. “It was Maite’s favorite book, maybe because it talks about infidelity amongst other topics.”
He placed it on the bed beside Floriana’s resting hand. “To me, it’s more about how one’s happiness may cause another’s unhappiness. Make sure you return it to the library after you read it. The Master hates being separated from his old books for long.”
Floriana took the book and caressed the scratched leather cover. How many hands had taken hold of it through the decades?
Another knock on the door took her out of the predicament. The door opened and the Master entered the room firmly holding his staff. Eric got up from the chair and offered his seat to the elder man, who thanked him politely before he took a seat. Floriana moved to get out of bed, but with a nod from the Master, she was urged to stay in place.
“I’d better leave you. You two have a lot to discuss,” said Eric, and he sent Floriana a cunning smile as he left the room.
A few minutes of silence passed before the Master finally spoke in contentment. “I heard you did great in your first mission.”
“But we didn’t destroy their time machine.” Floriana lowered her gaze.
“It doesn’t matter. You will get another chance to do it. You did your best. Your father would be very proud of you.”
Silence again. Floriana cleared her throat in discomfiture.
“I'm too old for this, so I won’t dwell a great deal.”
The Master drew his wrinkled hand onto the inner part of his suit until his fingers touched a gold chain. He dragged it out and a golden pocket watch appeared. He carefully handled the watch and opened the lid. As if performing a ritual, he gave Floriana the gold artwork. A small color photo covered the inside of the lid, opposite from the clock.
“This is my son,” he said as he pointed to the photo.
“Is he also a member of the Order?”
“He was. He died sixteen years ago.”
“I'm sorry.”
Silence again. Floriana took a closer look at the small photo.
“His face looks familiar.”
“Of course.”
“Did I know him somehow?”
“You did. His name was Ross Rogers.”
Her hands numbed, her eyes fluttered with surprise and wonder.
“That was my father's name.”
“And your father was my son.”
The Master gripped the handle of the staff tighter and focused his gaze on an invisible spot on the floor as if trying to find an excuse to avoid eye contact with her.
“That means you are my granddaughter.” He cracked a smile. “I understand it's quite a shock for you. Maybe I should have brought it up in a softer way to you but, as I told you, I'm too old for this.”
The old man avoided looking at her like a child who was caught stealing candies from the jar. Floriana carefully touched the gold pocket watch on the bedside table.
“Why didn’t you try to contact me before?”
The man cleared his throat as if preparing to make a speech.
“When your mother broke relations with the Order we made a deal. She would take you with her and relocate to a country of her choice, cutting ties with us. I respected our agreement and I stayed away from your life until your mother’s death. When your mother was killed, you were under my protection without your knowledge. In her will, your mother appointed Dora to be your guardian. Dora was a former member of the Order, who, for respected personal reasons, had chosen
to stay in inactive status. However, she hadn’t completely cut ties with us and immediately made contact with us when your mother was gone. Dora was a woman I trusted and appreciated. I knew she would bring you up and take care of you as if you were her own daughter. Her death had saddened me deeply.”
“Her death? What happened to Dora?” Floriana yelled.
“She died a couple of years ago. Don’t you remember?” the Master said.
“She was alive less than 24 hours ago!”
“Then, our timeline must have changed. And there is nothing we can do, unless the Orologion let us act,” the Master said, sadness in his voice.
Floriana brought back the memory of the years she spent with Dora. They were good years despite the pain of the loss of her mother. Dora proved to be an excellent guardian, friend, and mother altogether. She wept.
“We watched you grow up without giving away our cover. Eric visited you at home a few years before Dora’s death. It was the encounter he referred to during our first meeting in my office the day you returned to Weengarts, the day you returned to your family, even in your ignorance.”
The sunlight penetrated the lacy curtain and painted shadows on his aging face. Was he truly her grandfather? Was he the last relative she had left?
“I understand that you need time to digest what you have just heard, but I’m afraid there is more for you to learn about. My dear child, forgive me for rushing, but I can’t show any patience, not anymore. Time passes more slowly when you are at the end of your life.”
He put his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a black ring like those worn by members of the Order.
“This was your father’s ring.”
He placed the ring into Floriana’s hands. A rose was exquisitely carved on the oval agate stone that adorned the silver hoop.
“Take a close look at the carving inside the hoop,” respectfully urged the Master.
The name Ross Rogers was carved with artistic lettering in the silver.
“This is not the only thing that your mother left behind when you moved to London. Your mother also left behind something very important in Weengarts, a part of herself and a part of you.”
Clocksworth Academy Page 9
