Sixth Seal

by Thornbrugh, Josh

  Lee peered out the back window. Ana was amazed that the double doors were still closed.

  “I can’t see the black Suburban from here.” Lee pressed against the back door. It didn’t move. “We’re sitting ducks in here.” He backed up and kicked at the door. Because of the limited space, he had to crouch, which seemed to keep him from getting enough force behind his kicks.

  “Who are these guys and why do they want to kill us?”

  “They’re the Horsemen’s private security detail, and for the record, I don’t think they want to kill you, just me.” Lee threw his right shoulder into the doors. They splayed outward, but the top one came swinging back down narrowly missing Lee’s head.

  “Why would they want to kill you and not me?”

  “They need you alive. They don’t need me.” Lee palmed the gun and pointed toward the duffel bag. “Get the bag and stay behind me.”

  Ana bent down and grabbed the bag. She was already sore, but she knew the worst was still to come. She threw the bag over her right shoulder. Lee started to step out the back then stopped and turned toward her.

  “Do you remember anything about the Eye of Jupiter?”

  “The Eye of Jupiter? What’s—“

  “Never mind. Let’s finish these bastards.”

  Sanctuary

  Hannah opened her eyes, giving them time to adjust to the dim light. The rough-hewn timbers of the ceiling slowly came into focus. She lifted her head up off the bed, noticing for the first time that she was still fully dressed and on top of the blankets. Her blouse clung to her back and bunched up under her jacket. How long had she been out she wondered?

  She pushed herself up on her elbows, head still spinning faintly, and glanced out the single window. Through the curtains she could see that it was night, so at the very least she had been unconscious for the better part of a day. The only light was coming from a small brass lamp on a nightstand next to the bed. The lamp did little to illuminate the plaster walls of the tiny apartment and flickered occasionally as though the bulb was about to burn out. Her bags had been delivered at some point and now sat beside an oak armoire in the corner of the room next to a small writing desk.

  Voices from outside the apartment door caught her attention. She sat up, doing her best not to make any noise. One of the voices seemed to be agitated, but she couldn’t make out much of the conversation. The agitated voice said something about someone being the doctor’s responsibility. The other voice, she now recognized to be Doctor Altman’s, retorted that he was well aware of his responsibilities.

  Just as Hannah started to get off the bed, the doorknob turned and the door opened so that she could see the back of the Doctor. Apparently he had been arguing with Lieutenant Wozniak and was still doing so. Hannah decided it best to sit back down.

  “If you will remember, Lieutenant, Doctor Goebbels himself put me in charge of this project.”

  “And if you will remember, Doctor, he put me in charge of security. If you can’t handle your personnel, then it falls to me to make sure they are not a risk to this operation.” Henryk clicked his heels and turned quickly, leaving the Doctor speaking into the air.

  The Doctor opened the door the rest of the way, giving it a couple of gentle taps as he stepped in. Hannah looked up and caught the concern in his deep brown eyes. There was something fatherly about him. His salt and pepper hair, his thick glasses and his well-groomed appearance reminded her of her father. In fact, the Doctor had been more like an old family friend than a boss, and he was certainly a better man than all of the others she had come into contact with in her dealings with the German High Command.

  “Hannah, dear, you had me quite worried.” He crossed the room and took her hand in his. His touch was warm, and despite his age, his hands were soft. He touched her forehead with the back of his left hand and felt her pulse with his right.

  “I’m feeling much better now, Doctor. I think the electro-magnetic field must’ve gotten to me.” She looked up into his eyes trying to determine if he believed her. “I think the trip from Berlin drained me as well.”

  He sat down next to her on the bed. “You’re still a little warm. I think you need some more rest.”

  “Really, Doctor, I feel fine—“

  The Doctor put up a hand. “Nonsense, dear. You take another day to rest and settle in. I still have a few more tests to run on the device before I’ll need you in the lab.”

  “Can you at least tell me more about the project?”

  “I’ll get you up to speed over the next few days. For now you can look over some of my notes.” He gestured toward the writing desk. “I made some sketches of the face of the device. It’s not evident under normal lighting conditions, but there is a faint line of script on the surface. That’s mainly what I require your unique skills for.”

  Hannah started to get up, but sat back down when the Doctor looked at her sternly.

  “Maybe I should join you in the morning and take some rubbings off of the device.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” The doctor rose and crossed the room to the desk. He rifled through a stack of papers. “Here are my sketches. Just look over these and see if you can make any connections.”

  Hannah nodded her head, giving into the Doctor’s wishes. Maybe she could use the time to meet with her underground contact a couple of days early.

  “Good. Now that’s settled, I’ll leave you to get some rest.” The Doctor walked to the door and paused before opening it. He turned to face her. She noticed he was fiddling with his ear again in that odd manner, pinching the lobe between his thumb and forefinger. He only seemed to do it when he was nervous. “I hate to ask you, but could you please make sure you have an escort if you go out.”

  “Certainly, Doctor.” She did her best to smile even though she wasn’t very happy about the idea.

  “I know it’s a bother, but the Lieutenant is very uptight about security, and well, the security aspect is his show after all. There is a curfew in place now too, but you should be fine with an escort and your I.D. By the way, there’s a washroom at the end of the hall and a kitchen downstairs.” He opened the door. “This was a girls school at one time. Just make yourself at home.”

  When she nodded again, he smiled and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Hannah waited a while before she ventured out of her apartment and into the hall. Her door let out onto a balcony that overlooked the building’s foyer. If she leaned over the railing a bit, she could see through the leaded glass windows of the entryway and out to the street beyond. The light of the lampposts silhouetted a couple of soldiers who must have been assigned the night patrol. She would definitely have to find an alternate way out of the building.

  After taking a moment to pat her hair back in place and tuck her blouse into her skirt, she made her way down the staircase. The intricate detail of the banisters and the expensive marble in the foyer belied the relatively simple appointments of her apartment. Perhaps the SS had already stripped everything of value from the upper floor. She wondered how long it would take them to pillage the rest of this beautiful country.

  The view from the entryway confirmed her observation from the balcony. There were indeed two soldiers stationed out front. They were smoking and talking. To Hannah they didn’t seem to be older than high school aged boys. Beyond them she could see military trucks coming up the street and turning toward the Capitole. She hoped they weren’t bolstering security around the book.

  Hannah returned her attention to the foyer. There appeared to be a coat closet beneath the staircase and a doorway that opened into a sitting room. She peeked in the room, and when she saw that nobody was inside, she ventured in. Apparently the SS hadn’t been in this room yet. It still held several things of obvious value. The silver tea service sitting on a low table between a pair of delicate side chairs looked ready to receive royalty. She knew the chairs to be replicas of those she had sat in during the reign of Louis
XV. Hannah always thought that the French people had poured all of their determination and love into these exquisite pieces to escape the madness of the period. She had thought herself to be mad then as well.

  The portraits on the walls appeared to be those of the former masters and head mistresses that ran the school. Their stern demeanors made Hannah a little uncomfortable; she decided to escape their disapproving glares by opening a door toward the back of the room.

  She stood in the doorway, looking across to another door with a view onto the alley behind the building. Perhaps she could sneak out the back and try to find her way to her contact. Hannah crossed the distance and started to put her hand on the doorknob when a sudden movement caught her eye.

  “Miss.”

  Hannah turned to see a young soldier sitting at a table in the kitchen. She placed her hand over her heart and took a step back.

  “I’m sorry, you startled me.”

  The young man stood and pulled out a chair. “Please forgive me. Why don’t you join me? Have you eaten?”

  Hannah shook her head and took the proffered seat. The young man sat down across from her, looking into her eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Hannah brushed some stray hairs from her face and avoided the young man’s gaze. “I was just going to step out for some fresh air.”

  “No trouble, Miss Klein, I could use the company anyway.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I’m the house sentry, Miss. Lieutenant Wozniak himself assigned me to keep an eye on the residents here.” He took a few slices of cheese and meat from a platter and placed them on a plate that he slid in front of her.

  “Thank you.” She couldn’t remember when she had last eaten, but after seeing the food, her stomach let her know it had been a while. “How many residents are in this building?”

  “Just you and a couple of other people working on the project, and myself of course.” His smile upon the last declaration unnerved her a bit.

  “So if I need to leave the building, would you be the one to talk to?” She did her best to smile.

  “Well, yes, but I’m afraid there’s a curfew in place. I can’t allow anyone to leave until morning.” He cut a piece of bread from a large loaf and handed it to her. “I hope you understand.”

  “Certainly.” She accepted the bread and wrapped it in a napkin with the rest of her food. “If you’ll excuse me…”

  “Niklas.” He stood and helped her with her chair.

  “Please excuse me, Niklas. It’s been a long day. I think I’ll retire to my room.”

  “Of course. Please let me know if you need anything.”

  She left him alone in the kitchen and quickly made her way back upstairs. It looked more and more as though she was going to have to climb out of her bedroom window like a petulant teenager.

  ***

  After devouring the food Niklas had given her, Hannah unpacked her bags and traded her skirt and jacket for a pair of wool trousers and a dark turtleneck sweater. She pinned her hair up and tucked the rest under a black beret. The leather ankle boots she had slipped into weren’t going to help much on the window ledge, but they would be useful if she found herself ducking down by the river’s edge for cover.

  The window groaned and creaked in protest as she slid it upward in the frame. She chanced a brief glimpse out to see if the noise had aroused any attention. Her window looked out onto the north end of the building and gave her the slightest view of the majestic Garonne cutting a path through the city. She would be open to detection until she got to the bottom, but from there it was just a matter of several steps to conceal herself amongst the shadows of the alley behind the building.

  Slipping herself over the windowsill, Hannah felt with her foot for the narrow ledge that jutted out from the first floor. When she felt sure of her footing, she eased her way toward the back of the building trading hand over hand until she came to the next window. She steadied herself, and then threw her left hand out to the other sill. Her hand grasped the rough wood of the frame making her wish she had worn gloves. She kept her body pressed close to the wall and continued her hand over hand progress until she reached the edge of the wall.

  If someone came around the side of the building, she would be spotted instantly, and despite her status on the project, it would be difficult to explain herself. She paused briefly to listen for any signs of activity. When she was satisfied she hadn’t been heard, she slid her hands down from the windowsill and into the grooves in the brickwork. Her shoulders and chest tensed as she moved her body further from the wall and crouched down on the narrow ledge.

  The ledge wasn’t wide enough to allow an easy descent. She would have to keep one hand on the bricks while she moved the other to the ledge beneath her feet. The movement put a tremendous strain on her upper arm, but she managed to get a firm grip on the ledge. Then she threw her legs out over the edge and caught the ledge with her other hand. Unfortunately, the momentum caused her legs to swing back into the building, knocking out a tiny pane of glass in one of the first floor windows.

  There was no time left to be cautious; she could hear footfalls from the front of the building. Hannah pushed off the wall with her legs and dropped the remaining distance to the ground below. She landed hard on her right ankle and fell to the sidewalk. The footfalls were getting louder and she could make out raised voices. She got up quickly and tested her ankle. It was throbbing, but the stiff boots had probably kept her from breaking it.

  Hannah hobbled to the edge of the building and slid around the corner. She pressed herself into a dark doorway and held her breath. The footfalls had stopped, but the voices seemed to be right next to her. A beam of light flickered on the fence across from her, scaring a cat and sending it scurrying down the alley. One of the voices said something about a damned cat and another said something about broken glass. Hannah decided not to wait around any longer. She kept close to the building and walked toward an opening in the fence.

  She pulled herself over a low gate into a small courtyard. The houses here were built right up next to each other. She caught a glimpse of the cat running between the narrow gap. The voices were now in the alley and stray beams of light convinced her that the cat had the right idea.

  Hannah pressed herself into the small space and sidled toward the front of the houses, her sweater snagging and catching on the rough surfaces. When she made it to the other side, she crouched down and sat with her back up against the wall. The street in front of her edged the river, so there were no buildings facing her. She would have to use the riverbank for cover as long as she could until she got close enough to the church.

  She sat in silence for a little longer waiting for her heart to settle, listening for sounds of the soldiers. They had either given up, or they were searching somewhere else. Hannah got up in a crouching position and looked down both ends of the street. The curfew must be working she thought. There was no sign of activity and apparently the patrols hadn’t made their way down this street yet. She could see the cross above the church across the river.

  The river was too wide to cross here and the bank was too steep on the opposite side. She would have to walk along the edge until she got to the bridge about a quarter mile down the river. Then she could crawl along the outer edge over to the other side.

  Hannah darted across the street and dropped down on all fours, crawling over the edge to the riverbank. It was too steep to walk upright, so she had to find her footing and lean into the bank with her hands. The progress was slow going, but much safer than being out in the open.

  By the time she reached the bridge, her ankle was beginning to throb again. She knew she would have difficulty running for any length of time and she didn’t have any weapons other than her own hands. Putting the thought in the back of her mind, she pulled herself up onto the stone ledge of the arched bridge that spanned the river. The ledge jutted out from the base of the wall and provided just enoug
h cover if she remained in a crouching position. It would be murder on her ankle, but better than the alternative.

  Sidling further along the ledge, Hannah could see the Catholic Church coming into greater focus. She didn’t know the name of it, but she could tell from her brother’s description that this was the church she was looking for. He had told her the Bishop would be able to put her in contact with a leader in a local branch of the French resistance. She didn’t like to rely on outsiders, but she had little choice in the matter. There was no way she could allow the Nazi’s to keep the book.

  The bridge rumbled slightly causing Hannah to stiffen and crouch down lower. She felt and heard the growl of the diesel engine before she saw the troop truck pass. Shortly after, a black Citroen sedan followed. Probably one commandeered by the Gestapo from the Vichy she thought.

  She waited for them to cross the bridge before she resumed her progress to the other side. Keeping herself in the shadows of the bridge, she continued her resolute pace until she was several yards from the bank. She couldn’t chance climbing over the bridge and onto the street. Her only option was to drop down near the top of the bank and crawl to street level. She knew another hard landing on her already sore ankle would probably leave her incapacitated, so she guided herself down with her other leg. Gripping the stone ledge, she rocked her body back and forth and finally released. She landed on her good leg, but instantly began sliding down the steep incline.