Taske was propped up in his bed, a pillow framing tufts of snow-white hair. Breathing tubes and IVs sprouted from his nostrils and bony arms like tentacles, and an unseen monitor beeped nearby, recording his weak yet steady life signs. His skin was a map of wrinkles and blotches and stretched like aged parchment across his bony visage. Nevertheless, his eyes glimmered with the fire of a much younger man. This wasn’t an individual to be trifled with. The body was failing the billionaire, but his spirit clearly still had some fight left.
For the first time, I noticed the tiny cameras inside the plane. I had no doubt that they were recording and transmitting my image to the old man.
“I apologize for having to resort to kidnapping, Mr. Raven. But I doubted you would come along voluntarily. I hope Vittoria has been as courteous as possible, given the circumstances.”
I eyed the female who had spearheaded the kidnapping. So her name was Vittoria. There was something strangely familiar about her, a guarded quality that I’d encountered in another beautiful woman before. Then it hit me. Her icy, Nordic looks combined with an aloof, almost haunted quality reminded me of my first girlfriend, Isabel, who had met a tragic end. I pushed the disturbing thought aside and said, “Where the hell are you taking me? And what do you want from me?”
Taske’s baleful eyes gazed at me through the monitor. “I need your help.”
“What kind of help?” I asked.
Taske took a deep, wheezing breath. “As you might’ve noticed, I’m not looking my best. The cancer has spread, and I have very little time left. Nevertheless, I refuse to go gentle into that good night.”
My eyes narrowed. Taske wasn’t the first wealthy man who hoped to cheat death. Nor would he be the last.
“In my quest to find a cure for my affliction, I’ve consulted with the best doctors money can buy, explored every alternative therapy. Every path, except one…”
The occult, I mentally finished.
“Are you expecting me to lead you the fountain of youth? No matter what you might’ve heard, Mr. Taske, I won’t be able to point the way.”
“That won’t be necessary. I already know the way, Raven.”
Taske’s weathered visage disappeared from the screen, and an aerial satellite photo of a snow-capped mountain range took his place. The camera zoomed in, revealing a small town. My eyes took in the cluster of picturesque cottages, snow slithering down the angled rooftops. The place made me think of some fairy tale town caught in a Christmas snow globe. There were no cars or other signs of modern life, and it seemed the town was only accessible by cable car. The place was a far cry from the loud, humming urban sprawl of the Cursed City.
“Welcome to Berkengarten, Switzerland. Population: five hundred.”
The camera zoomed in on the majestic structure that dominated the small, snow-blanketed town. Roman-style columns fronted the main entrance, and I couldn’t help but notice that the building’s neoclassical architecture was out of place in the picture-book village.
“The Hagen Bank,” Taske explained. “The ultimate destination in offshore banking. No questions asked. Built with Nazi money. According to US intelligence reports, it holds some of the largest terrorist and cartel fortunes in the world. If you have money that needs to stay untraceable, this is where you hide it. The CIA has found it impossible to hack into their systems, despite their better efforts.”
I studied the bank more closely. There was something foreboding and oppressive about the structure, almost as if the walls were absorbing the surrounding light. It was like no bank I’d ever set eyes on, a fortress crossed with a mausoleum.
The video feed darted into the bank, through the steel-reinforced main entrance. Armed guards patrolled the reception area and main floor, submachine guns under their arms. Scanners and sensors abounded. I wondered how Taske had gotten his hands on this security footage. But then again, money talks and Taske’s deep pockets could pretty much purchase anything in this world.
On-screen, the hidden camera continued to zip down a marble-steel corridor toward the vault at the far end. Ten feet of titanium alloy lined with digital displays filled the screen. A grey wall of safety deposit boxes awaited inside the massive vault, thousands of them, an overwhelming sight. Two of the guards punched in a code, and the vault lurched open like the jaws of a metallic beast.
The screen went dark, and Taske’s emaciated features reappeared. He let out a phlegmy cough that shook his skeletal frame. I could almost see the Grim Reaper peering over his shoulder.
“Why are you showing me this?” I asked. “What do you want from me?
“Isn’t it obvious, Mr. Raven? I want you to help me break into this bank.”
“I think you kidnapped the wrong guy,” I said. “I’m not a bank robber.”
“I don’t make mistakes,” Take snapped, the old man’s eyes ablaze. “What most people don’t know is that the Hagen Bank holds a special reputation in certain select circles. If my sources are correct, and that’s what I’m counting on, the bank safeguards some of the most valuable and dangerous occult items from around the world.”
I considered this latest revelation. The bank sounded more and more like a bigger version of the vault Skulick and I maintained back at our base of operation. My partner had never mentioned the Hagen Bank to me, nor had I ever come across it in my years of battling the dark side. If it had managed to slip under our radar, it meant this place was either a hoax—or it was one of the best-kept secrets in the supernatural community. Finally, the penny dropped. “You believe the bank holds a magical cure for your cancer?”
“Give this man a cigar,” Taske said.
“What exactly are you after?” I asked, unable to hide my growing irritation.
“Let’s just say it’s an item rumored to offer life-extending benefits and leave it at that for now.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You’ll need to be a little more specific if you want me to help you.”
Taske’s smile vanished. “All you need to know is that the main safe is protected by a magical security system. Your job is to get Vittoria’s team past the wards.”
“Hold on a sec. I don’t know what you heard about me, but I’m not a mage.”
Taske smiled nastily. “You’ve been touched by darkness. Marked by a demon, haven’t you?”
How could Taske have learned about Morgal’s attack all those years ago? Besides Skulick, no one knew about the scar the demon had branded me with.
“I’ve spent months searching for a key that would grant us access to the safe.” Taske’s eyes landed on Vittoria, and she tapped the serpent talisman draped around her neck. “Only an individual touched by the forces of darkness can successfully use the key to break into the vault.”
“What if I refuse?”
“You won’t.”
Detective Jane Archer appeared on the screen. She was leaning against a window, studying the streets below her apartment building. I realized with a chill that the video was being taken with some telephoto lens from the ground below. Believing she was alone, Archer had dropped the tough-girl façade. She resembled a shadow of her former confident self, and the sight broke my heart.
Taske was showing me the video of the woman I loved for one reason only: leverage. He was telling me that he was aware of my connection to the detective. More importantly, his cronies knew where Archer lived and were keeping an eye on her. The threat was understated yet unmistakable. It would be unwise for me not to play along, at least for the time being.
“If you hurt her…” I hissed.
“I have no interest in letting any harm befall Detective Archer. All I ask for is your cooperation in this matter. Do we understand each other?”
I nodded, my lips pressed into a tight line.
I understood the bastard all too well. Like every rich asshole I’d ever come across before, he expected to get his way, no matter who he had to step on in the process.
“How do you plan to break into this place and get away with it?�
� I asked.
A smile played across Taske’s face, clearly pleased that I seemed to be on board for the caper. “I have the best team of professionals money can buy. Don’t worry, Mr. Raven. Just do your job and let my men handle the rest.”
I took in Dimitri and the others and realized that my abductors were all seasoned career criminals. Bank robbers. Killers. And then there was me. The token occult expert. The man with the demon mark. The keymaster to whatever occult treasure Taske was after.
The old man’s image gave way once again to an aerial map of the small Swiss town. I tried to focus on the image and push away my whirling thoughts and emotions.
“The town is built in a canyon?” I said, my voice clipped. “Mountains on three sides, too tall and steep to be passable.”
Vittoria nodded. “That’s right. So what?””
“Even if you find a way to break into this fortress, how do you expect to get away? There’s only one road out. The cops set up a roadblock and your team is trapped.”
Taske let out a wheezy chuckle. “Well observed. That's why my team won't be using the road.”
I pondered this for a beat and said, “You found another way into the bank?”
“Ice caves run through the mountains and underneath the town, some natural, some manmade. We believe they were used in the past during times of invasion to bring supplies in and out of the valley,” Taske said.
On-screen, the satellite map was replaced with a virtual schematic of the network of tunnels that ran underneath the town. Taske’s voice continued over the digital images. “My satellites took radio scans through thousands of feet of rock and ice. Based on the data gathered, I have an accurate map of the tunnel system.”
His image returned, his milky gray eyes empty of all warmth.
“You help me, Mr. Raven, and I make sure no harm befalls the lovely detective. Do we have an agreement?”
I nodded slowly. I knew not to fuck with a man worth upward of five billion dollars.
“Good. I guess we'll be friends then.”
“One can never have enough friends,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
A thin smile split the valley of wrinkles that made up his face. “I hoped you had a good head for business. I will let Vittoria take over from here.”
I stole a glance at my striking abductor. There was a mesmerizing quality about her intense expression and once again I couldn’t help but think of the woman who had meant so much to me at one time. Isabel had broken my heart when I was twenty. These were memories I’d rather keep buried.
“What’s her role in all of this?” I asked.
“She will be my eyes and ears. You talk to her, you're talking to me.”
With these words, the screen in the plane grew dark. Vittoria took a seat in the plush seat opposite me and crossed a pair of long legs. She leaned forward, kissing me on my lips.
I froze, turning into a block of ice.
“We have a few hours to kill,” she whispered into my ear as she unbuttoned her black blouse.
“I thought you didn't like me.”
Vittoria’s sensuous lips turned into a smile but her eyes remained chips of ice. “Consider it Taske's way of showing his appreciation for your assistance with this delicate matter.”
Any interest I might have had in her implied offer wilted at that. “You do everything he tells you to do?”
She didn’t respond, but she avoided meeting my eyes.
“I guess now I know what your specialty is,” I said. I felt like a jerk even as I spoke, but I had found a convenient target for my building rage. “Did you have to sleep with everyone on this job, or am I special?”
“Asshole,” she muttered.
“You’re Taske’s eyes and ears and everything else, right? Sorry, but I don't want a kiss from an old man.”
Vittoria's face fell. She stood, quickly buttoned up her shirt and turned away.
“You’ll regret that.”
With those words, she stalked away into the back of the plane, leaving me alone with my empty glass and my darkening thoughts.
7
Freezing air slapped my face, and I raised the collar of my trench coat in a vain attempt to stave off the biting cold. The Lear jet had landed on a tiny runway framed by snow-capped mountains.
I shifted my attention to the large transport chopper that waited for us in front of the nearby airplane hangar. My breath clouded in front of me. Taske had spared no expense for the upcoming heist, judging by the equipment and shady talent on display, yet he couldn’t spring for a fur-lined jacket for yours truly?
My gaze swept the area inside the open hangar where Taske’s mercs were gearing up for the upcoming heist. On the flight, I had picked up a few names and details about the crew Taske’s fortune had brought together. There was Norton, the tall, rail-thin explosives guy, who was delicately packing up a series of charges and vials of nitroglycerin into a duffel bag. He was treating them like his little babies.
Shoji, a nerdy hacker sporting a hipster haircut with blue highlights, was checking his top-of-the line computer equipment. Dimitri and the other muscle-head, whose name was McManus, loomed nearby and looked like they were gearing up for a private war. McManus was wearing a tank top, revealing a muscular physique covered with scars and tattoos. The cold didn’t seem to bother the ruddy-faced Irishman. He struck me as the kind of bloke whose idea of a good time was to play a game of soccer with a yuppie’s head. A silver cross dangled around his neck. On a nearby table, I caught glimpses of firearms, grenades, and gas masks. The two men kept checking and rechecking their instruments of death and destruction.
Rounding out the trio of hired killers was Sanchez, an American of Mexican descent. He was busy scrutinizing his reflection in a hand mirror, combing back his jet-black hair.
McManus grinned mockingly at Sanchez's vanity.
“Getting ready for a hot date with your boyfriend?”
“Fuck you!”
Sanchez nodded at Haru, an athletic Japanese woman sporting an aloof expression, who apparently was Shoji’s twin sister. I still hadn’t learned what her specialty was or what role she was about to play during the upcoming bank heist. She made for a nice break from all the raging testosterone, but I’d learned the hard way not to underestimate a beautiful woman.
“What do you think, babe?” Sanchez asked while flashing her what he probably considered his most charming smile. “Don't I look good enough to eat?”
Haru gave Sanchez the kind of look reserved for cockroaches and other vermin and said, “Sure, if you're into food poisoning.”
McManus burst into raucous laughter. Judging by the hate-filled flicker in Sanchez eyes, the Latino gangster wasn't amused. McManus, however, had just made a friend for life.
There was a hiss behind me, and I spun toward Dimitri. The giant Russian had somehow managed to sneak up on me despite his considerable bulk. The hissing sound emanated from the high-powered welding torch in his hand. The Russian looked eager to test the safe-cracking equipment on my face. The final safe might be protected by black magic, but we would have to first fight our way through stone and steel to reach it. As the torch’s bluish flame drew near, I suddenly didn’t feel so cold anymore. Dimitri was making me nervous. His meaty features dissolved into a brutal grin.
“I once tortured a man using a device like this. It's quite a thing to see the skin melt off a man's face. Horrifying, but you just can't look away.”
I held the man’s gaze and stood my ground. Once you’ve faced a demon or two, a professional killer doesn’t seem so bad. “I’ll have to try that sometime,” I said. “Oh wait, I forgot, I’m not a psychopath. Put that away, man.”
Dimitri grinned. “So they say you hunt monsters.”
Dimitri fed the torch more gas, the blue flame extending. Only inches from my face now. The crew was watching us, curious to see how I would handle myself in front of the feared Russian bruiser.
“That’s right,” I said.
“Aren’t you a little too old to believe in fairy tales.”
The flame hissed and sparked near my pearly whites. I could almost taste the bluish fire sizzling the air. Heat singed my skin and made me miss the freezing cold. A slight twist of the wrist on Dimitri’s part, and my beard would turn into a Tiki torch.
I didn’t budge. This was a test. If I backed away, Dimitri would keep going with his bully act. I had to teach the fucker a lesson.
Instead of retreating, I pulled out a cigarette. I’d quit smoking years ago, but I always kept a pack in my coat pocket for special occasions. Once in a while the old addiction overcame me, normally when the horrors of my mission became too much for me to bear and alcohol had failed to calm my frayed nerves. Most of the time, I used them as icebreakers when I was trying to strike up a conversation with a potential witness or lead in a case.
Well, there was more than one way to break the ice.
Instead of taking a step back, I leaned forward and used the welder torch to light my cigarette. My jaw set in a tight line, I took a deep drag and blew the smoke in Dimitri's surprised face.
“Thanks for the light.”
The veins in Dimitri's head throbbed and looked like they might pop. But sanity prevailed. The Russian cut off the torch. Norton shot me a long, impressed look as Dimitri stalked away.
“Still trying to figure out who the crazier bastard is,” the explosives expert said.
Suddenly, they all paused. Vittoria has stepped into the hangar, her presence commanding immediate respect. Her gaze lingered a beat longer on me than anyone else. As the crew went back to their tasks, she marched over to me.
“I've been thinking,” I said.
“In this line of work, that’s a nasty habit.”
I smiled. Vittoria had a black sense of humor, which I could appreciate. “Maybe. But it's what keeps me alive.”
“Well, what is it?” Her voice was laced with a trace of impatience.
“Most bank alarms measure sound as well as vibrations. How are we going to a dig a tunnel and blow a hole into the bank without setting off the alarms?”
Shadow Detective Supernatural Dark Urban Fantasy Series: Books 4-6 (Shadow Detective Boxset Book 2) Page 4
