by Aiden James
“In truth, it’s not so bad,” said Roderick, chuckling at my mercurial temperament of late. “He only wants you and me to leave him out of any more dealings with vampires. How much help has he been in that regard, anyway?”
“You’ve got a point, but still.” I nodded thoughtfully. “So, the plan is for you to take the coin in first, and then the rest of us will follow afterward?”
“Yes, precisely,” he confirmed. “Might as well give it to me now, so there is one less consideration when we leave here tomorrow.”
After handing the Dragon Coin to him, and watching him carefully store it inside his wallet, I bid him good night and joined Beatrice for a nightcap before retiring for the evening. Resting side by side in bed, I listened to her smooth breathing and soft snores, although unable to sleep myself. Too many unanswered questions, and a growing uneasiness of what the new menace would seek from us.
Surprisingly, the next day was a very smooth affair. Everything from our hotel departure, to our short flight to Italy, and our early evening meeting with Benevento went exceedingly well. Alistair, who had been the most suspicious as to why the coin belonging to the dangerous Vlad Tepes had been procured by another immortal, warmed up immediately to this ancient, fellow academic. It didn’t hurt that Benevento carries a young Father Christmas air, sporting a full brown beard and whose light blue eyes twinkle with mirth. So, the ruse that the coin had been left behind in a Serbian castle and ended up in the black market seemed plausible. Same for the ten thousand euros price tag, which seemed like a bargain considering who the coin’s most recent verified owner was.
“But, next time you go after one of your coins, Pops, don’t give me some shit about it being too damned dangerous!” he scolded me, still sensitive about my decision to travel to this part of the world without him.
“All right, I promise not to do that, Ali.” I gave him a warm hug while glancing at Beatrice and Amy, who both smiled broadly. Apparently, they had heard an earful of grievances from him on the long flight from Washington D.C. to Rome.
At Beatrice’s request, we stayed another five nights in the Eternal City. All the while, Roderick and I kept our eyes open for something to happen…something unusual. But other than glimpsing a trio in sunglasses that resembled our Budvan ensemble, nothing happened. It was the main point of conversation between me, Beatrice and Roderick on our flight back to D.C.
“I think you all should stay with me at the plantation, at least for a few days,” Roderick advised, while waiting for our luggage at Dulles Airport. “Just as a precaution.”
“A precaution about what?” worried Amy.
For some undisclosed reason, she asked me this question, and not Roderick. I had successfully dodged her imploring green eyes, that were damned near as striking as my wife’s, though Alistair might disagree and insist they are more alluring. The overhead florescent lights seemed to dance in waves upon her dark locks, and I wished they were a strong enough distraction for me to ignore her question. If only she had saved it until after we arrived in Abingdon.
“We aren’t certain, but remember when Roderick’s townhouse was broken into?”
She nodded.
“Well, it remains a remote possibility that whoever did that might come back, and this time to our place,” I explained. “These men are dangerous, and have ties to organized crime in eastern Europe. So, until we can be reasonably certain we are no longer in danger of any kind, I think it’s best we hang out with Roderick at his place. Besides, we’ve got a coin to add to our collection.”
I smiled to sell this, and this time prayed it was the genuine kind overriding the light fatigue I felt from the flight. It would pass in the next hour—it always did. Still, reconciling last week’s events with two conflicting points of reality would be something to weary my mind with during the next few months.
Thankfully, Amy and Alistair listened to Beatrice, who seemed as determined as I to err on the side of caution.
“There, that’s settled!” she beamed, when they agreed to come along with us. I added the incentive of letting them sleep in peace for the duration of the six-hour drive to Abingdon.
Roderick insisted on driving and having the front seat of our rented SUV to himself. I could readily relate to his need for undisturbed solitude for a while. We arrived at the estate just before dawn, and were greeted by twin rows of massive magnolias in early bloom. Their distinct aroma filled the air as we entered the long drive leading up to the stately antebellum in the distance.
“I think we should leave the car parked near the barn, and after we get settled, I’ll arrange for Margolise to have the cooks prepare breakfast and bring it here,” he told us, once we stepped inside the ramshackle farm building that served as a decoy for the elevator entrance to the Roderick’s underground fortress “That will give us time….”
His voice trailed off, and when I followed his gaze, I saw the main security gate leading to the elevator was open. Someone had been here very recently, as I determined from fresh shoeprints in the barn’s sandy soil.
Roderick retrieved a Baretta from its hiding place inside a large workbench across the way, and once it was loaded with a clip taken from another bench, he led the way. It should’ve been just the two of us, but once we relented to Alistair tagging along, Amy and Beatrice wouldn’t stay behind willingly.
Damned crystal bravado!
“I hope you realize this is a great way to make sure you’re uninvited the next time we go on a coin search,” I warned the ladies. “I’d rather have you hate me than having to witness something terrible happening to either of you—especially if it could’ve been prevented by your staying put.”
“And, yet…how are we supposed to acquire useful skills to aid you in the future? By staying back and waiting on you to make sure everything is neat and tidy?”
“It’s hard to learn anything useful if you’re dead!”
Amy was working my last nerve, and I prepared to upbraid her for being so foolhardy. Beatrice intervened.
“We’re not idiots, William,” she said, sweetly, drawing close enough to where my concentration was negatively impacted. “We’ll stay back. Besides, there’s only one set of footprints here. Are you telling us the two former government agents and a big strong young man to help are not enough to handle this prowler?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“For starters, if this invader happens to be a trained assassin, they might make short work of all of us before we even realize we’re dying,” said Roderick. “Well, short work of the three non-immortals in the group, anyway. But, if you insist, and since we’re wasting time by debating.” He shook his head and motioned for us to join him on the elevator.
“Here goes nothing,” I said, after pushing my wife and the youngsters behind me. If a professional waited underground for us, at least Roderick and I would form our initial defense. The elevator chimed at each twenty-foot marker we passed, until finally we reached our destination. “Rod, you want to go first, or should I try to ‘glamour’ whoever is down here?”
Everyone chuckled nervously. At least they got my joke.
“It should be me, since I’m carrying a weapon.” Roderick’s voice reverberated eerily in our tight quarters, and then the door opened. “Everyone but you should stay behind.”
We stepped out, and I couldn’t help but smile at his limberness as he moved out into the steel re-enforced hallway. He had completely healed from yesterday’s injuries. I followed, with every physical sense on edge. Only my body would serve me as a weapon. The two of us moved, catlike, crossing each other as we headed toward the posh living areas. Suddenly, a Baretta handgun similar to Roderick’s slid across the tiled floor toward us.
“Did you build the initial tunnels in this goddamned place on the backs of slaves, or were you the Thomas Jefferson sort of slave owner back then?”
The familiar voice echoed toward us from near a massive fireplace hidden in shadow. A
plasma TV almost the size of the wall was turned on, and ESPN Sportscenter played in muted silence. A silhouette walked toward us, and when Roderick pointed his weapon, the cloaked individual lifted his arms above his head in surrender.
“My God! I could’ve killed you just now, you arrogant jackass!” said Roderick, lowering the gun as Cedric Tomlinson stepped into the lighted hallway. He was dressed in a brilliant red robe and matching fez that I mistook as African in origin. The symbols etched in gold upon the crimson outfit were very similar to what our friend, Tampara, had worn on his tunic in Bolivia last year. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
“I love you too, man,” he said, snickering while puffing on his preferred thin panatela. “Same for Willie Boy, here. Just thought I’d drop in for a visit with y’all! ‘Been missing the mischief and bullshit you two are always good for.”
“So, you decided to breach Roderick’s doomsday hideout and see if we showed up someday?” I found it hard to believe it was really my former CIA field boss standing in front of us. Something was off with his appearance beyond the strange dress, and I couldn’t put an immediate finger on exactly what it was. “I thought the good folk of Paititi didn’t give anyone a buyer’s remorse period for joining their fair city.”
“Always a smartass, William,” he said, but his expression had changed to sadness at the mention of the globed metropolis floating above an ancient version of Lake Titicaca—a shimmering sight we observed from a distance last November when pursued by Victor Kaslow. “First off, I didn’t break in here. It took me a moment to remember where you lived, Roderick, and when Margolise told me you were coming back in a few days, I decided to hang out in the area to see if you showed up any sooner. That was last night, and as I prepared to leave with my taxi, I saw a light on inside the barn. You know me…I had to investigate. I told the driver to come back for me around midnight. I guess he forgot.”
Alistair and the gals crept closer, distracting me. They stared at Cedric similar to how I had initially, wearing perplexed expressions. They had much to catch up on.
“Did you see anyone rummaging about?” asked Roderick, stepping past Cedric while keeping his guard up. He turned on the main overhead light to the shadowed living area. It sat empty.
“Nope. The place is completely deserted,” he advised, snickering as he observed Roderick play James Bond. “From what I can tell, nothing’s been messed with. Maybe one of y’all left it unlocked when you went to Rome last week, as Margolise advised. You should know I’ve already checked out every inch of this fabulous pad, man. I hope you’ll invite me to join y’all when the kids in Pakistan grow up and decide to nuke us. You sure as hell have the space.”
“How did you get Tampara to let you leave?” asked Alistair, who stepped closer to Cedric, wearing a look of keen admiration as he studied his attire. “If not for Amy’s devotion to her brother and the fact I’d likely go centuries without seeing Pops and Mom again, we would have gladly come along.”
“The city’s gone…destroyed. A kid from America stole the heart of Tampara’s sister, and when they snuck out of Paititi together, it set off a war between the Kingdom and Bochicha’s Emissaries and their Prince, Hurakan. The most incredible place on earth was burned to ashes, and its race of super humans are gone, except a handful of survivors.” His voice cracked, and he couldn’t continue.
The news brought immediate gloom to us all, including Beatrice, who hadn’t met the wonderful semi-immortal, Tampara. She came over to me and wrapped her arms around my waist, and rested her head lovingly against my shoulder. Roderick’s eyes filled with tears that matched Cedric’s profound sorrow.
“Did Tampara perish?” whispered Roderick, his entire body shaking from a mixture of rage and grief.
“No…he survived, as did his sister,” he advised. “The rest of the royal family is gone. After King Bashaan was murdered, Tampara brought me back into this plane a few weeks ago. But, I can’t go back to my former life with the CIA. Can’t even face my daughter and her family, since I ain’t the same man they knew…. Nothing from my previous life is the same.”
For those who have yet to explore my previous journals, Cedric Tomlinson was my field supervisor for the last dozen years I worked for the CIA. After my official retirement, he had served as the liaison between the agency and me for nearly twenty years. I’ve always admired his toughness and jovial sense of humor, and have mentioned before how his warm brown eyes and infectious smile have made him a consistent hit with the fair gender.
However, seeing him in such ornamental dress threw me for a loop, since he has always favored polo shirts and slacks. But like anything else the man has ever worn, he pulled off this new robed mystic look with aplomb.
“Sounds like you need a home,” said Alistair, and to my surprise, he moved up to Cedric and hugged him. I had not seen this side of my son—not since before I stepped out of his life as an adolescent. This level of compassion wasn’t there when I returned to his life during his drug-influenced mid-twenties. “I say you can stay on with us for now, Cedric…how about it, Pops?”
I expected Cedric to turn him down…the old Cedric would have done so immediately. But, the new version? …While he pondered the offer, I finally could put a finger on what was so different about him. He was noticeably younger than when we saw him last, without a hint of gray or wrinkles. His smooth ebony skin was as flawless as a teenager’s. Always a very handsome man, somehow during the six-month absence from our earth plane, thirty years had melted away from his appearance.
“I could use a change of pace in my life, William,” he added, smiling weakly. “And, like I said, I have truly missed you guys.”
Even Roderick eyed me in a way that implored me to make an exception…but it was hardly my decision alone. This wasn’t some exclusive club by design. It was merely the natural result of relationships that flowed well together. And, when Cedric was just a company line central intelligence agent, he would never have fit in with us.
But, surveying the faces of those I loved dearly, they were unified in favor of making this exception.
“Okay, why the hell not?” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. “But, you’re going to have to keep up with us on the fly. Think you can do it?” I smiled impishly, and motioned for him and everyone else to follow, as I moved down the long corridor to where the vault sat.
“Where to now, Pops?”
“I think he’s wanting to take care of your coin dedication ceremony in a hurry,” said Roderick, using his long strides to catch up to me.
“So, that’s a genuine bank vault?” asked Cedric, as they all pursued me. “What’s it got in it?”
“It’s where we keep valuables of all kinds, including the case that houses each coin we’ve collected to date,” Alistair explained. “Usually, we enjoy some pomp and circumstance. But as you can see, my dad is in a mad rush!”
Perhaps I should’ve waited for my beloved Beatrice, at least. However, glancing back I saw her keeping pace with Amy. No stragglers, no lolly-gaggers, no….
Roderick beat me to the vault door, and as soon as we opened it, everyone but Cedric was taken aback. The main vault drawer that housed our most precious valuables had been pulled out. Although unopened, a pair of roses rested on top of it. This time they were bloodless, one pink and the other yellow.
“What in the hell?” whispered Roderick.
Alistair, Amy, and Beatrice wore deeply perplexed looks, further confirming they knew nothing of the crimson dripping white rose we found in Rome. We had yet to tell anyone about the black one waiting for us when we returned to Rome to intercept our ornery trio. Since their reality no longer included the unpleasant abduction by Dracul’s thugs, there was no point in mentioning the event. Of course, this meant the only rose the three of them knew about was the red one found in Roderick’s D.C. townhouse last week.
Since Cedric knew virtually nothing about the flowers and their storied history with Roderick and me, he casually strode o
ver to the latest roses and picked up the yellow one. He sniffed it, grimaced, and laid it back down. Meanwhile, Alistair hurriedly dug through the drawer with Roderick.
“Whew! Thank God they’re still here, Pops. All twenty-four previous silver shekels remain sealed inside the case.”
“What’s this?”
Roderick reached into the drawer and pulled out a small envelope. Even before he opened it, I dreaded its contents. Rather than share the note’s message with everyone, he handed the accursed thing to me.
Judas,
When you get this note, know that I am watching. Watching your every move, and anticipating each fearful thought passing through your head.
I know of your coins, and can take them all, should I be inclined to do so. You are running out of time, and someday I’ll come for you. Your loved ones will summarily be returned to Dracul’s menu.
Very sincerely,
Krontos Lazarevic
P.S. Surely you can appreciate how each rose carries a not-so-subtle message. The messages from these two are not rooted in elegance and happiness.
“Well, at least we know now who’s pursuing us,” I deadpanned, once it became obvious I couldn’t keep the message from Alistair and the others. “Looks like we’ll be moving very soon.”
“Why must we go? And, where could you take us that’s truly safe? This man sounds worse than what you told me about Dracul!” worried Beatrice. So much change for her in the past year, she was just getting used to our remodeled living quarters in Alistair’s spacious D.C. condo. Life had finally begun to make sense again, and now the rug had been pulled out from under her feet.
“Anywhere but here and the city of Washington,” I replied, feeling numb to the very core of my being. I pulled her close again, while ignoring the heated stare of Alistair, following my wife’s revelation that I had shared details about Dracul with her, and yet nearly nothing with him. “Probably nowhere near Virginia, either.”
