by Lynn Sholes
"Done," Alexei said, as if he had just swatted an insect.
"Stay here and cover us," Ivanov said. "Victor, go down to drawbridge and get ready. Krystof, hostages brought here in limousine. Find it and warm up." He turned to Cotten. "Ready?"
As ready as she would ever be, Cotten thought. "Yes."
"This way." Ivanov led her, along with Victor and Krystof, down steps that hugged the inside battlement wall. At the bottom, he motioned for Cotten to follow while the other two headed off in different directions. As she and the colonel rounded a corner of a large structure, they both froze at the sight of a figure walking out of the building and heading across the courtyard.
"It's the traitor priest," Cotten whispered. "I want to follow him."
"That would waste time," Ivanov said.
"I have to."
He shrugged, then waited until the man was past them.
"I think I know where he is going," Cotten said.
"And where is that?"
"To the well to dispose of John's cross."
"We don't have much time. Too much delay and you risk friend's life."
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Without hesitation, she started after the priest. Ivanov gave out a grunt and followed.
They hugged the side of the buildings, staying in the darkest of the shadows. Cotten stopped when she saw the priest standing beside the round stone well alongside the old horse stables. She watched as he raised one of the wooden planks covering the opening and held his hand out.
"Give me your pistol," she whispered to Ivanov.
He pulled his gun and handed it to her.
Boldly, Cotten stepped forward until she was a few yards from the priest.
"Stop," she said with as much authority as she could muster.
The priest turned around, the gold cross glittering as it dangled from his fingers. Staring at Cotten, he said, "You're early."
RESCUE
"Give it to me!" Cotten snatched the crucifix and chain while still keeping the gun aimed at the priest. "You're too young to be Archbishop Roberti. So I assume you're Michael Burns."
"You're not really going to use that?" he said.
Cotten glowered at him as she slipped the crucifix and chain in her pocket. Then she handed the gun back to Ivanov. "No, but my friend will if you don't take me to Cardinal Tyler."
"Drop the weapon."
The voice came from behind Cotten and Ivanov. As they turned, Ivanov said, "Borodin, you piece of shit. Why am I not surprised you are big shot here?"
"Hello, Vladimir." The General aimed an automatic pistol at the former KGB agent. "You're up past your bedtime. Now hand over your weapons."
"I give you one chance to surrender," Ivanov said. "You accept generous offer?"
"Do I look like a fool?" Borodin almost laughed.
"No," Ivanov said. "You look like dead man." He raised his arm as a signal, and in the next instant a pink cloud appeared from the side of Borodin's head.
Cotten gasped as she realized what Alexei had done. The sniper's bullet passed through the general's head, blowing most of the back portion of his skull away as it exited. Borodin fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings were snipped.
Colonel Ivanov bent and pried the pistol from the general's grip. He turned and gave it to Cotten. "Souvenir." Then he said to Burns, "You want to be dead man, too?"
Burns held his hands up in a gesture of surrender as he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the sniper.
"Take me to Cardinal Tyler." Cotten raised the gun and pressed the barrel
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to Burns' chest. "I've never killed anyone in my life," she said. "But I'm willing to start tonight."
Burns backed away, then started walking toward the main building.
As Cotten passed Ivanov, he grinned at her as if to say he was impressed.
"What did he mean by being early?"
"They didn't expect me to show up this quickly," Cotten said.
"Maybe Nephilim not so smart," Ivanov said. He cocked his head as the wind carried the sound of an engine cranking and then starting. "Krystof find limousine."
Burns headed toward the main building but the colonel stopped him. "No, not that way." He pointed to the side of the building not far from the steps where they had descended into the courtyard. "We go through side door."
With Burns in the lead, the three moved around the side of the building, their feet crunching in the newly fallen snow covering the flagstones.
"Here," Ivanov said and motioned to the portico. Opening the door, Burns led them down a hallway. The colonel shined his flashlight at the far end. He pushed Burns and they continued on until the three stood in the middle of the castle's kitchen. "Where are guards?" he said.
"You seem to know a lot about this place," Burns said. "Why don't you figure that out—"
Ivanov moved within inches of Burns' face. "I don't care if you are devil himself, and according to her, you might be. But I have cut off balls of men who would scare devil out of you. Tell me location of guards or there will be another head on stake."
Burns backed away. "Calm down. There are two on the front gate, one inside the entrance to the main hall, one on the back battlement wall, and one upstairs guarding the prisoners. Borodin's driver and another guard are sleeping in the servants' quarters."
"Odds getting better," Ivanov said, winking at Cotten.
Burns turned to her. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."
"I know what you are."
"Stubborn little prick." Ivanov grabbed Burns by the shoulder. "We take back stairs to prisoners' rooms. Go." He shoved Burns forward, and they headed across the kitchen to a set of narrow, wooden stairs. "Very quiet," he whispered as they started up.
When they came to the top of the stairs, Ivanov said to Burns, "Open door slow. If you see guard, call him to come help you."
Burns obeyed. As he opened the door, Cotten saw over his shoulder a hallway lit by a handful of lights along the walls. From her angle she spotted four doors, all closed. A man sat in a chair at the opposite end of the hall. His head leaned back against the wall, and he appeared to be asleep.
"Call him," Ivanov whispered to Burns. "Quietly."
Burns stepped out into the hallway. "Hello," he said just above a whisper.
"Hey."
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The guard shuddered awake and sat up with a start. "What is it?"
"Borodin needs you," Burns said. "Now."
The guard rose, still obviously trying to shake the sleep from his head. He started walking toward Burns. When he was a few yards away, he suddenly stopped and glared down at his chest. A dark bloom formed on his shirt as his arms went limp. Dropping to his knees, he fell over face first onto the hallway floor.
Ivanov stepped into the light of the hall, a wisp of gray smoke drifting up from the barrel of his silenced automatic. He turned to Burns. "Which room?"
***
Still dressed, John lay on the bed staring at the faint patterns on the ceiling cast there from the fireplace. Suddenly, he heard a scratching at his bedroom door. The lock was being manipulated and the knob was turning. Was it the night visitor again?
He reached for the small lamp on the bedside table. At the same moment, he saw the door open. A figure stood in the doorway.
He switched on the light.
Michael Burns walked in, his hands held in the air.
"Michael, what's going on?"
Then John saw a second figure behind Burns—a small-frame person dressed in bulky clothing. The face was hidden beneath a ski mask.
He sat up and swung his legs off the bed.
The figure stepped forward, a pistol in one hand. The other hand reached to pull away the ski mask.
John's mouth opened in shock. "Cotten!"
ESCAPE
John got to his feet and Cotten rushed to throw her arms around him.
"Thank God," she whispered.
John held her tightly. "How did you find m
e?"
"The photo, your hand on your neck."
"It was a long shot. I never thought anyone would figure it out. Such a dumb clue."
"It worked. That's all that matters."
John looked at Burns, then at another man standing in the doorway, a man with a pistol in his hand. "Whoever you are, I can't thank you enough." Then he turned to Burns.
"He betrayed you," Cotten told John. "He set you up."
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Ivanov pulled the ski mask from his face. "Time to go."
"Archbishop Roberti? Is he safe?" John asked Burns.
"Where is he?" Ivanov poked Burns in the back with his gun barrel.
"Next room." Burns motioned toward the wall.
"Why did you do it?" John asked.
"He's Nephilim." Cotten stepped away from John to face Burns. "This whole thing was to distract me from a much larger issue. But it didn't work the way they planned. They never figured I'd show up here so soon."
Ivanov moved into the hall. "Hate to spoil reunion, but time to go."
John grabbed his coat. "I'll go awaken Luigi." He headed into the hall with Cotten behind him. Stopping short, he saw the dead man. Making the sign of the cross over the body, he went to the next bedroom door.
"Want me to shoot Nephilim piece of shit?" Ivanov called to them as he aimed his pistol at Burns.
"Lock him in the room," Cotten said. "If they thought it was a good enough prison for John, then it'll do for him."
Ivanov locked Burns in, using the key he had recovered from the dead guard. He followed John and opened Roberti's room.
"Luigi, wake up," John said. He shook the priest until the man turned and stared at him.
"What's going on?" The older man looked terrified.
"You're safe, Luigi." John threw back the blanket and helped Roberti swing himself out of bed. "It's good you slept in all your clothes."
"It was freezing," Roberti said.
"Put on your shoes and coat," John said. "We're getting out of here."
"What about Michael?" Roberti asked. "We must awaken him."
"He's already awake," John said. "Luigi, Michael betrayed us. He was in on our kidnapping."
Roberti's eyes grew big, and he seemed even more confused than when John had burst into the room. "Impossible."
"Discuss later," Ivanov said.
Roberti stared at the man with the gun.
"He's a friend," Cotten said.
For the first time, the archbishop noticed Cotten. "Sweet Jesus, what are you doing here?"
"She and this man have rescued us," John said. "But we must leave now. Please, Luigi, hurry. We'll explain everything later."
"This must be a nightmare," Roberti said, tying his shoes. He stood and John helped him into his coat. "All right, I am ready... I think."
"This way," Ivanov said. He directed them to the stairs leading to the great hall.
"What about the guard at the entrance?" Cotten asked the colonel. "The one Burns told us about."
"Victor has relieved him of duty."
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"Are you sure?" Cotten asked.
Ivanov stopped short and turned to her. "Trust Vladimir, future mayor big shot of Chisinau."
She smiled. "Forgive me, Vladimir. I trust you with my life."
He looked at John. "Smart lady." Then he turned and started down the stairs.
At the bottom, they entered the great hall. Ahead, near the main doors, Cotten saw a dark heap on the floor. Standing nearby was Victor, his machine pistol at the ready. As they got closer, Cotten noticed the spreading pool of blood and gaping slit in the guard's neck.
"Nice work," Ivanov said.
"Caught him sleeping on job," Victor said with a smile.
They burst through the doors into the snow-blown night. Cotten spotted the limousine near the front gate, clouds of steamy condensation billowing from its exhaust. The drawbridge was down and Krystof was in the driver's seat. From across the courtyard, Alexei ran toward them, his sniper rifle in his hands.
Everyone converged on the ZIL at almost the same moment. "Quickly," Ivanov ordered. "We must go."
Once they had piled into the car, Krystof shoved the accelerator to the floor, and the old engine roared as the car barreled through the gate and across the bridge.
With sickening thuds, bullets slammed into the metal trunk lid. Ivanov turned to look out the back window. "Last two guards woke up," he said.
Cotten peeked above the back seat for a second and saw the muzzle flashes as the two men fired from the steps of the main hall. But just as quickly as the bullets hit the old car, it swerved around a curve and raced down the steep mountain road. Cotten leaned into John next to her and rested her head on his shoulder.
Behind them, the imposing silhouette of Dracula's Castle disappeared into the driving snow.
SETBACK
"Careful, you idiot," Ivanov shouted as the ZIL swerved around a sharp bend in the narrow mountain road. "Long way to fall."
"You want drive, big shot future mayor?" Krystof wrestled with the steering wheel of the cumbersome limousine.
"Who are your interesting friends?" John asked Cotten as he tried to maintain his balance in the back seat of the swerving car.
"This is Colonel Vladimir Ivanov, formerly of the Soviet KGB, currently considering a career in politics. And these are his colleagues, Krystof, Alexei, and Victor. I would predict they might also have a future in local government."
"Never work for lazy prick like him," Alexei said, motioning to the colonel.
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"Unless I become director of whore house inspection."
"That is all you are good for," Victor said.
"Well, whatever you gentlemen do in the future," Roberti said, "we cannot thank you enough for assisting Ms. Stone and coming to our rescue tonight."
"Rescue easy," Victor said. "Getting back into Moldova a bitch."
"We are almost to turn-off," Ivanov said to Cotten. "Must get off road before border crossing."
"Won't the two soldiers back at the castle have already notified the border guards of our escape?" Cotten asked.
"Maybe, but Vladimir is smart guy." Ivanov smiled broadly. "Once they find old limousine, we will be back across river."
Krystof slowed the car as they rounded a turn and took a sharp left onto a narrow forest road. At the lower elevation the snow had slowed. The road wound through a mile or so of thick evergreens on a gradual descending grade. Finally, it ended in a tangle of underbrush. He switched off the lights and ignition. The heavy darkness of the forest rushed in and surrounded the old car, while the howling wind replaced the rumble of the engine.
Ivanov turned and peered out the back window watching for any sign they were followed. "Okay, everyone out," he said. "Don't want to spend rest of life in big Russian coffin."
The group exited the limousine and gathered around the front of the car trying to absorb the last of the warmth radiating off the engine block.
"Victor and Alexei bring up rear," Ivanov said. "Krystof, take point. Everyone watch step. Many hidden rocks under snow."
With only their flashlights and the moon to light the way, they zigzagged down a hillside on an unseen path beneath a shallow crust of snow. Although the grade was manageable, the fear of twisting an ankle or tripping over a hidden root or rock kept their progress slow.
Within fifteen minutes, Cotten realized that she recognized a few rocky landmarks. They had rejoined the original mountain trail leading to Wolf Castle and the back door. Next, they moved onto the hunting trail and left the incline behind. A hundred paces later, she saw the reflections of the moon on the river. Moving down the embankment, they stood at the water's edge. Before them sat their rowboat, the netting shredded, the hull filled with enough water that the stern disappeared under the gentle lapping waves.
Sucking in her breath, Cotten knew they were in trouble.
Like mourners at a funeral, the group gathered in silence on the riverbank and stared
at the half-sunken boat. Despair, like the numbing cold, seeped deeper into Cotten as she shoved her hands into her coat pockets. She couldn't believe that their luck had run out after coming this far.
"What happened?" John asked.
