The Secret of Hades' Eden

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The Secret of Hades' Eden Page 10

by Graham J. Thomson


  Once everyone had arrived, they were escorted through the building to the drawing room. For some it was their first visit to the Hall, others were regular guests. They walked past a small fortune of artwork and antiques before they reached their destination for the evening. When everyone was seated in the lavishly furnished drawing room, a total of eleven people sat around the large circular table.

  Draped over the table was a huge blood-red flag with a symbol emblazoned on it: a large black triangle with a pentagram in the centre, and in the very centre of the pentagram was the Eye of Horus. Holding the flag down were two elaborate Romanesque candelabras. Above them hung an extravagant crystal chandelier that sparkled in the candlelight. Portraits of various ancestors hung on the walls, their names and titles were engraved on bronze plates below each picture. Politicians, generals, and other notable men of high attainment, could be identified amongst the exquisite works. Other personalities were less recognisable owing to their more secretive professions.

  At the far end of the room was a huge marble fireplace, a freshly lit fire raged in it. The sweet musty smell of burning wood hung in the still air. At the opposite end was a huge gold statue of a seated Zeus. It was said to be over two-thousand years old; a relic from times forgotten.

  The doors opened once more and their host entered. Wearing no mask, he was dressed in a black dinner jacket and bow tie. His handsome features were on full display to his familiar guests. He had short, dark, curled hair and chiselled almost perfect features. They called him Hades and he was their elected leader. He gazed upon his masked guests and took his seat in silence.

  A moment later the same blond man entered carrying a black toolbox. A large man with soulless dark blue eyes, he had a wide face and rough features that were not attractive. His name was Fyodor Sergeyevich Kushnir, but he preferred to be known simply as Cossack. A former KGB agent, Cossack was no man to mess with. A trained killer with bags of experience at the sharp end, he was Hades’ director of security and was responsible for all such matters within the organisation. No task was too small or too big for him, he was a loyal servant.

  In silence, Cossack walked over to the table and placed the black toolbox on it. From it he took out a small hand held object which looked much like a walkie-talkie radio. When he switched it on the device beeped intermittently. He walked around the room and made a sweeping motion with it in his hand. As he passed by each guest, he swept them up and down. The beeps remained steady. Eventually, he returned to where he had started. He put the device away and took out a larger green and black object that had Cyrillic writing on it. This he positioned on a small table by the wall. He switched it on and gave a solemn nod to his boss.

  ‘Thank you, Cossack. Excellent work as always. You may leave us now,’ Hades commanded.

  Cossack picked up his toolbox and glanced at the masked guests. His piercing eyes had that thousand yard stare. Scars on his face told the tale of a harsh past. He left the room without a word.

  The security formalities over with, Hades stood up to address his audience. His enthusiastic voice boomed as he began the proceedings.

  ‘Friends, brothers and sisters,’ he said. ‘Thank you for coming at such short notice. I know how difficult and dangerous it is to meet like this, face to face. But there are urgent matters to discuss. You may remove your masks now and please speak freely; the room is soundproof and secure. Cossack’s little device here,’ he pointed to the green and black device on the table, ‘will block any radio and mobile phone transmissions within half a mile.’

  As directed, the guests removed their masks and placed them under their chairs. Six men and five women of varying ages and races were revealed. Although each face was unique, they all had the same air of wealth and power about them, an aura of superiority.

  Hades scanned his dark eyes over them all before proceeding. ‘I can’t say how pleased I am to see you all again, it has been far too long my friends. But soon we will be together permanently in the new world where there will be no need for the secrecy that has impeded our progress for far too long. The Brotherhood of Olympus will finally be free.’

  There were the cries of approval from table, ‘Hear, hear,’ and, ‘Bravo.’

  ‘Much has been done since our last gathering, but not without some trouble; more of that later. First for the good news.’

  Hades placed his hand firmly on the shoulder of the man sat to his left. ‘Poseidon,’ he boomed proudly, ‘has prepared the ships for the chosen to set sail to our new, albeit temporary, homeland. Almost everything is ready for our arrival.’

  There was a general murmur of approval. A few raised their flutes of champagne as a toast to Poseidon.

  ‘Another victory to tell,’ Hades went on. ‘Our informants did well in finding such a large shipment of cocaine. As some of you already know, we successfully intercepted it and have more than we need. It is being prepared as we speak. Hephaestus, are your people still on schedule?’

  Unlike the grotesque image of the lame Greek god of his namesake, the man known as Hephaestus was a well bred, handsome and charming young fellow. In his mid thirties, he had dark, shiny curly hair, dark eyes and thick black eyebrows. Originally from western Greece, he lived in a wealthy area of London from where he ran the old family sugar businesses. But his aristocratic ancestors had been more than just sugar and spice merchants, for they had also been secretly involved in smuggling. It had begun many centuries ago when the wave of Emperor Constantine’s Christianity spread across the modern world and waged war on the ancient mystic religions. Under the cover of their trade they had smuggled pagan artefacts, books and treasures to safety, saving them from inevitable destruction by the new Church. Through the generations, and under the cover of a series of reputable companies, the family had smuggled everything from wine to diamonds, arms, and eventually, drugs.

  ‘Yes, Hades,’ Hephaestus hissed proudly in a low voice. ‘The preparation has more than doubled its weight, much more then we need. And strangely, it has turned the powder pink.’ Everyone laughed. Hephaestus looked at them in surprise, then grinned himself. ‘The price will be set so low that ours will be the product of choice. I think its colour will make it very popular too. Like a fashion item perhaps, something fun for the party-goers. Our dealers are ready to distribute it in the key global locations on your orders, Hades. A good section of their market is, predictably, the middle and upper classes. Lawyers, bankers and media types, as well as the usual suspects in the entertainment industry. This way we will sell to those who travel far and wide.’ Hephaestus smiled a humourless, soulless smile.

  ‘Good,’ Hades said sternly. ‘The rats will carry it into the cities.’

  There were general murmurs of agreement from the others. The sound level in the room rose as the guests conversed with each other. Hades drank casually from his glass before delivering the crucial news they had all come to hear.

  He tapped the side of his glass and room quietened. ‘I will be sending the order to distribute it on Sunday. It will only be a matter of days before it will be on the streets of every major city in the world. You must all deploy to the island before then. I will follow you there soon after.’

  The atmosphere changed in an instant; there were gasps of concern from the table. Clearly not all of the guests were aware of the much accelerated plan. Instead of the rapturous applause that Hades expected, there was shocked silence. Hades frowned and looked around the table.

  The silence was broken by one of the younger females. ‘It’s too soon, Hades. Surely we are not ready?’ asked Aphrodite, her accent was upper-class English. She was the great-granddaughter of a former British Prime Minister and was infamous for speaking her mind.

  One of the others, an overweight man known to them all as Apollo, shifted uncomfortably in his seat and turned to Aphrodite. ‘There has been a setback,’ he said weakly, he coughed and cleared his throat.

  ‘What kind of setback?’ Aphrodite asked sharply. Her delicate English rose loo
ks were deceptive; under the skin she was as ruthless as a Mafia boss.

  ‘We lost our professor,’ replied Apollo sternly.

  ‘Please tell me you are fucking joking?’ Aphrodite laughed and looked towards Hades aghast.

  ‘No, it is, sadly, no joke,’ Hades said calmly. ‘I’m afraid we had to eliminate our professor, it seemed he had second thoughts. But we were forewarned by Kerberos, our most valuable asset at this sensitive time, and took appropriate and timely action to minimise the risk. The damage is minor and we believe our plans have not been compromised to any worrying degree. The professor knew little detail of our overall objectives. In fact, I don’t see it as a setback at all. If anything, it has strengthened our resolve to take action.’

  ‘But security has been breached,’ an older woman with grey hair said in a panicky voice. ‘We must take precautions, lie low for a while, re-plan.’

  ‘Quite the contrary, Artemis,’ Hades snapped. He closed his eyes and calmed himself. ‘Do not worry, I said we have taken care of the matter. And that is the end of it.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me, Hades,’ Artemis barked back. ‘This isn’t a trip to Vegas we’re organising. Any change needs careful consideration by all of us. This isn’t just your mission, Hades, we’re all a part of it. Our ancestors started this a long time ago in case you had forgotten. And if it wasn’t for us you’d still be blindly chasing that damned mythical book.’

  Hades’ face remained emotionless despite the rush of blood to his head. Calmly, he replied, ‘There is no going back, Artemis. Not for anyone now. If you are not happy with the arrangements then you are free to leave us.’ He motioned to the door.

  The others looked to Artemis, they all knew what it meant to walk out now. Artemis said nothing but her face was a picture of bitter indignation. She folded her arms and sat back in her chair, beaten down but defiant.

  ‘That is all I have to say on the matter. And speaking of that damned book,’ Hades said looking straight at Artemis who avoided his piercing gaze, ‘it is no myth, I assure you. I have some encouraging news about it, but more of that later. Now, does anyone else have any concerns they wish to air?’

  The room was silent.

  ‘No one? Good.’

  Always the sycophant, Poseidon reiterated Hades earlier point. ‘You must all urgently make plans to get to the island,’ he said. ‘Take only what you need and you won’t need much, everything is there for you. But there will no going back to the mainland for some time.’

  ‘Out time has come,’ Hades preached. ‘We will be together, all of us. Eventually we will re-colonise the mainland, rebuild the temples, teach the old ways of our ancestors. We will bring order to the new world, with better people and a better way of life.’

  One of them, a young Indian man known as Hermes, stood up and raised his flute of champagne towards Hades. ‘To Hades, and the new Eden. To Hades’ Eden,’ he said in toast.

  The rest of the guests stood up and raised their glasses. ‘Hades’ Eden,’ they said in unison.

  *

  Outside the mansion the sun vanished over a hill behind the estate and the gentle evening breeze dropped to a mere whisper. From the shadows of the forest a dark shape stealthily appeared and disappeared, creeping ever closer to the mansion. On reaching a short wall that marked the boundary between the forest and the raised garden in front of the house, William stopped and scanned the area for any security measures.

  On the top corners of the house were halogen flood lights, below each was a small dome of smoked glass or plastic. CCTV cameras, William assessed, probably infra-red, perhaps with motion detection too. He was going to get no further without being detected.

  He checked his phone, it was still being jammed. He guessed that the meeting was still in progress. Deciding that he was close enough to the windows to be in range, he reached into his rucksack and took out a small black camera-like object that had a small tripod attached to it. Setting it up on the grass, he peered down the viewer and lined the device up with one of the windows of the mansion. He switched on the laser eavesdropping device and pushed the earphone into one ear.

  Scanning one window at a time, he took a moment on each to listen for any voices amongst the hiss of the static. The invisible infrared laser beam picked up tiny vibrations on the glass and converted them back into sound. The quality wasn’t great and it was easily defeated by curtains or by music from a radio close to the widow, but, he figured, it was his best chance at gaining intelligence given the circumstances.

  In the distance, William heard the sound of gravel crunching under the weight of a vehicle. A white van had driven on to the long private road and was headed for the mansion. Peering over the wall, William watched as it stopped at the main entrance. On the side of the van was a brand name written in a curvy artistic design. William recognised it to be that of a Michelin star restaurant. He had once eaten at their New York branch, the food had been excellent and the wine list was an oenophile’s dream.

  The van stopped, the head lights went out. Two men, chefs dressed in white hats and black and white checked trousers, jumped out. One walked to the door of the house and rang the bell, while the other opened the rear of the van and took out some silver trays. The blond man answered the door, he spoke to the chef for a moment, then both chefs took trays and equipment from the van into the house. William’s stomach rumbled. His evening meal was a standard ration pack. Boil in the bag beans and sausages, eaten cold and followed down by a tasteless energy bar and an orange drink.

  In the darkness, William shuffled and crawled to various positions around the house. He directed the laser at every window in sight but with not so much as whisper, other than the irritating hiss of static.

  A shadow flashed past a small window on the ground floor. Catching William’s attention, he quickly turned the laser towards it. He tweaked the squelch to get the best reception.

  ‘… bunch of tossers,’ a voice said in mid sentence.

  ‘I’ve cooked for worse,’ another male voice said, the accent was cockney. ‘At least this lot keep themselves to themselves. I had one gig where the host kept pestering me, a real arse-hole. Wanted to taste my food before it went out! The cheek of it.’

  ‘They’re a funny bunch, this lot,’ said the first man. ‘The boss dropped this one on me last minute, really screwed up my routine. Anyway, looks like he’s a planning a long holiday. I’ve been packing all sorts for him. Anyone would think he’s moving the whole bloody house.’

  ‘All ready to go,’ the second man said. ‘Service!’ There were banging sounds, then the light in the window went out.

  After a couple of hours with no more movement from the house, William began to fear that he wasn’t going to gain anything useful.

  The sky had cleared and the temperature had plummeted. With no street lights for miles around, the stars shone brightly above. Staring up at the sky with the night sight, William saw them in all their glory, billions of them. The long thin cloud of the milky way looked like a mysterious smoke trail that split the sky in two. A meteor streaked through the blackness silently, its silvery smoke trail was momentarily lit up before it vanished into nothing.

  There was a flash of brilliant light from the front of the house. The main door of the mansion opened wide and a man, the same blond one who had welcomed the guests earlier, walked out holding two long leads. Two large lean dogs with pointed ears shot out behind him. Elegant yet muscular, they were fearsome creatures.

  William recognised them, they were Doberman Pinschers. Adrenaline rushed though his veins and he considered running back to the forest while he still had a reasonable chance of being undetected. But instead he waited, crouched down behind a short wall at the end of the garden. He pulled the balaclava down over his face and withdrew his pistol.

  The man spoke to the dogs in Russian. William understood it to mean, ‘Hurry up and do your business, bitches.’

  The dogs wandered out onto the garden still attached to the lo
ng leads. The Russian took out a pack of cigarettes and a Zippo lighter. He put a cigarette in his mouth and, using a quick and seemingly well practised move, he flicked open the lighter and ignited it. He bathed the end of the cigarette in the flame and took a long drag. He blew out a cloud of smoke which dissipated slowly across the garden in the light wind. William noted the direction of the breeze, it was going away from him.

  The dogs meandered towards the walled edge of the garden together, sniffing the grass as they went. One found its place and stopped to do its business. The other had found a scent and eagerly followed it; straight towards William. Bearing its sharp teeth, the beast growled and barked as it went.

  Pushing himself close to the wall, William ducked down. He held his breath and considered his options.

  ‘Silence!’ the man snapped in English as the barking continued.

  The Russian yanked the lead hard; there was a jingle of metal and a yelp from the dog. It stopped and whined; it looked pleadingly over at the Russian man and then snapped its head back towards the end of the garden. It whined with frustration and daringly pulled against the taut lead.

  The man cursed at it in Russian, ‘stupid dog!’ With his cigarette held between his lips, he marched over to the dog, pulling in the lead as he went. When the beast saw him coming, it cowered. When he reached the dog he pulled out a large black pistol from his waist and hit the dog soundly in the body with the butt of it. The dog whined loudly and instantly lost interest in the scent. The Russian muttered more curses and sucked hard on the last draw of his cigarette. He flicked the fag end over the short wall and walked back towards the house dragging the dogs behind him.

  The burning ember landed next to William, its glowing red end only an inch from his face. Foul smoke wafted up his nostrils, he felt a sneeze brewing. With all his might he held his breath to keep it in. When the dogs had been dragged back into the house, William sat up and breathed the cold air deeply. Once again he was alone in the darkness.

 

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