He could hear Sabian get up, his footsteps rounding towards where Javier was kneeling. The soft crunch of his weight on the carpet fibers ceased, and Javier heard him speaking from his left.
“Where are you going so hastily, inaquosum?” he asked.
“None of your fucking business,” Javier sneered. “I can go anywhere I want.”
“Going to meet our beloved Madalina, perhaps?” Sabian hissed. “I know, you see.”
“Because you are an evil son of a bitch with a sixth sense,” Javier barked.
Suddenly Dr. Sabian’s voice came from right next to him, startling him into a jerk. “No, because your friend Aldo told me. Perpello.”
Javier felt betrayed. In disbelief, he held back the tears of rage that begged to surface in his eyes. Sweat rolled down his bare back. “He would never tell you anything! It does not take a psychic to see what kind of vermin you are. Aldo will tell you to go fuck yourself before he snitches on anyone!”
“That is precisely what he said, you know?” Dr. Sabian smirked, turning off the big light so that he could speak to Javier, eye to eye. “Just before I skewered his skull with a rusty burglar bar from Conchita Bakery’s basement window.”
“You’re lying, you bastard!” Javier seethed, his defective eyes blazing with hate.
“Oh come now! Come on, Javier,” the wicked Dr. Sabian replied with that hideous serenity that made his manner even more unbearable to tolerate. “How else would I know that your sister in in Sax, waiting for you to join her? Hmm? How would I know if our late friend did not share it with me? Lucky for you, I need you to take me to her. I do not have the details on the little piece of paper you tore up.”
“No!” Javier exclaimed. His mind was whirling and his soul was furious, sad and loose inside him. He could think of no other retort but the single word. As if it would undo the truth, he kept shouting, “No! No!”
“Shhh,” the serpentine shrink said, trying to eased him and running his hand over Javier’s crown as if he were petting a dog. “Don’t lose your mind over this. You will still be given a chance to redeem yourself,” he grabbed the young man’s hair in his fist, jerking his head back hard, “if you don’t fuck with me!”
Javier’s body ached, his dry skin taut over his knees. Dr. Sabian nuzzled his jaw. “If you lose your mind too soon, you are of no use to me. Make no mistake, boy, I can do this with or without you. Finding her in such a small town would be child’s play. Oh, and speaking of child’s play,” he chuckled. Javier could not weep, even though the rage asked for it. He watched the diabolical man sit down on his bed as if he owned it. “The child with her is very important, you see. This is all happening because of him. We’ve been waiting for a very long time for him and lo and behold, your sister’s unstable mind was our way to him.”
“Our?” Javier asked, swallowing the urge to strangle Sabian.
“My friends, a group of like-minded individuals aimed at fulfilling the prophecy this boy is part of,” Dr. Sabian revealed dreamily.
“You are out of your mind,” Javier growled.
“No, my dear Javier. I control minds, and superbly so,” Dr. Sabian smiled. Once again, Javier felt the heat of abhorrence consume him as the psychologist acted like some corrupt evangelist or dictator. “Typical of your generation to dismiss the great mysteries of ancient times as madness. Naturally you do not fathom the power that lives in the mind, having been brainwashed into believing it to be superstition. All that we are capable of is locked in our minds, at one with old forces that lingered here before time.”
Javier decided that he would do better to play into the psychologist’s hand. Hostility would only afford him more trouble and his condition was faltering. In being agreeable, he realized that he would attain more information about the bastard’s plans for his sister.
“What prophecy are you talking about? Why do you need me?” Javier asked plainly.
“The Inca Prophecy of the Lost Cities,” Dr. Sabian answered. “We are bound for a great change in the status quo of the modern world. We are the midwives of this prophecy, you see. It cannot come to pass without a little help from its believers.”
“Its believers?” Javier pried.
“The Black Sun prophets,” Dr. Sabian boasted. His smirk of defiance had now changed into a smile of adoration as he exalted his cause. Veneration dissolved into reality and Sabian realized that Javier was procrastinating. “Now, get dressed. We have a few hours’ drive.”
Javier could not let Sabian get to Madalina. He hated to admit to himself that he didn’t really care what happened to the little boy as long as his sister was safe. She was the one Javier was going for, but he had no idea how to warn her, even less how to foil Sabian’s sick plans, whatever he had in mind.
Across town, Pedro Sanchez, chief of the local police precinct, picked up the details through the bug he had planted in Javier’s watch. Looking decidedly impressed with himself, he saved the twenty-minute sound clip of the conversation between the prominent psychologist and Madalina’s brother. His wife was kind enough to leave him alone during his remote stakeout, but when she saw his face change into an expression of victory and contentment, she announced, “You are leaving, aren’t you?” Lira knew her husband well enough to know that he was about to go on a chase based on the information he no doubt obtained through his headphones.
“I have to,” he answered, beaming. “Madalina Mantara is alive. She made contact with Javier, but they are both in trouble they cannot handle. I have to find them.”
“I know,” she smiled. “Just please, please, be careful.”
Sanchez minimized the active reconnaissance feed and started searching the internet for what he believed was a cult, by the sounds of it. Several links presented themselves, none of which featured anything about ‘Black Sun’. However, the police captain’s eye was drawn to something similar.
“This looks close enough,” he murmured to himself. “A dissertation on secret societies functioning today? The Order of the Black Sun—Clandestine Chronicles of Madmen still perpetuated by Modern Society by Dr. Nina Gould, c. 2012.”
Sanchez tried to open the thesis, but it required university credentials as password protocol, and he was left unsatisfied and desperate to find out more. He sat back on the couch, looking frustrated. “I have to leave as soon as possible and I cannot access the important details I might need for a bit of background on what this Sabian lunatic may be involved with. The university site won’t let me see this paper, for fuck’s sake!” He was vexed.
As always, his wife had some insight. “Who wrote the paper?”
“Dr. Nina Gould, MA Hist. Edinburgh University, blah, blah, blah,” he read out.
His wife shrugged. “So, Sherlock, look her up and ask her yourself.”
18
The Inca Prophecy
Solar Eclipse Imminent: 62%
“Before this gets ugly, let me shed some light on our presence there,” Purdue offered.
“We know why you were there, David,” Vincent roared, “because you simply had to bring up the remains before we could safely take them to El Dorado. I know who you are, David Purdue. Maybe you should remember that rat bastards like you, who defile tombs and ravage sacred history for financial gain and celebrity, are the enemy of the Children of the Sun!”
“Then why did you save us?” Sam growled, trying to subdue the fury in his veins.
“We did not save you,” Vincent scoffed. “We removed you from the Coast Guard, so that they will report you as ‘presumed dead’ and be done with you. That way we can kill you in any way or anywhere without repercussion, you naïve sods!”
“We didn’t even know about the ship!” Hannah chipped in, defiant of her place in the current hierarchy. “Mr. Purdue found it on a bloody sonar scanner or something. Jesus! Calm down!”
Vincent was furious. He turned viciously, but stopped short of slapping the insolent woman. Some unseen barrier appeared to block him from her—reason. “What?” he
asked with a bit less anger.
“She’s right, Vincent,” Peter affirmed. “Mr. Purdue was on a pleasure cruise, a maiden voyage to celebrate the purchase of his yacht. I swear to God it’s the truth.”
“Then why did he send for Sam Cleave?” he bellowed at Peter. Spittle webbed on Vincent’s beard as he addressed the white-haired Purdue. “Those of us in the relic trade know all too well about your collaborations, David. Once Sam Cleave gets involved in your innocent trips, they always consist of some official capacity that becomes a full-fledged excursion to rape and plunder antique sites,” Vincent fumed. “Why is Sam here?”
Purdue did not have a favorable response to this. Actually, all that Vincent was spewing at them was true. “At first, we were just cruising to test the yacht, Vincent,” Purdue explained calmly. He was a wizard at diplomacy, and now more than ever, Sam hoped he had a good line to spin. “When we tried to make contact with you on numerous occasions, you did not identify yourselves. Am I correct?”
Vincent did not like being confronted with a valid counter. He didn’t want to answer, proving Purdue right, but he had to. Reluctantly, he nodded his silent verification.
“So how were we supposed to know that you had laid claim to what we detected under our hull?” Purdue asked in a civilized tone of voice. “Had you identified yourselves as marine salvage, or even just informed us that we were intruding on your obscure demarcation, we would not have interfered. But you ignored our identification request, so we assumed you were out of range or simply did not care to answer.” Purdue leaned in to Vincent across the small nook. “Now what would you have done if you were me? Would you have passed up on exploration?”
Again, Vincent had to concede that he would have done the same. “No.”
“Precisely,” Purdue said, closing his argument, his hand resting on Sam’s shoulder. “After we could not establish radio contact with you, we went ahead with the documentation of our discovery, obviously, which entailed my summoning Sam to record our progress.” The air was tense in the cabin. Vincent’s crew gathered along the interior of the cabin like a chain of villains. Purdue, however, was far from being timid while defending his own. “This was not an act of hostility on our part, Vincent. If anything, I would be happy to bow out of the find if you could just assure us safe passage to the nearest port.”
“Aye,” Sam agreed.
“I just want to go home,” Hannah said softly, still admiring the golden prayer stick at a distance while she elected to drink herself into ignorance of the looming peril. Vincent noticed her wandering stare, but he understood her infatuation. His men stood in place, unmoving, yet their eyes were fixed on the strangers intently. Vincent sank back into his chair with a long sigh. A long silence followed, during which most just took to their glasses to spare the room the sounds of quarrel.
Vincent finally spoke. “Whatever is down there corresponds with this object,” he declared, holding the dog-bone-shaped artifact up. “The German ledger I have, along with these papers from the unknown author I read from previously, state that the twin ship to the one off the Peruvian coast, is the one you found, David.”
“I take it whatever is down there will direct you to a treasure of sorts? Gold, perhaps?” Sam asked for clarification. He wanted to determine their short-term fate.
“No, Sam,” Vincent answered as his thick fingers traced the bumpy texture of careless gold smithy from centuries long gone. “Gold is good, of course, but this is so much bigger. Whatever matches this relic, and there is a twin for this, will complete the key to El Dorado, my friends.”
“The legendary City of Gold? It exists?” Hannah asked.
“No one knows. The last great change, like the next prophecy we are looking to fulfill, took place in 1949 when an earthquake ravaged Cuzco, Peru. A golden Incan temple was unearthed by an act of the gods, so to speak. But it’s not the gold we are after as much as the prophecy.”
“What does it say?” Hannah asked.
“The end of the world,” he replied bluntly, leaving most of the present party a little breathless. “When the next prophecy comes to pass, the Americas will unite and The Children of the Sun will flourish as brothers. All modern evils will fall to ruin and mankind will enter a new state of existence. They return to the old ways before men were enslaved by technology and greed.”
“Very noble and selfless of you lads,” Sam remarked.
“But it is!” Vincent insisted. “Do not ridicule the possibilities, particularly the reversal of the destruction prevalent in the world right now! We need a renewal. We need this world to end. My God, have you not noticed that our race of beings have gone insane? The whole world, the Great Mother, and all our natural resources are now ruled by mad gods. It’s not about nobility, Sam. It is about common bloody sense!”
“I agree,” Purdue said.
Vincent scoffed. “Isn’t that a crock of shit! A billionaire who is fueled by greed, a grave robber who takes scepters from the bones of great kings? You? You want the mercenary powers to fall and reduce you to a meager man like the rest of us? Bullshit, David.”
“You don’t know me, my friend,” Purdue smirked. “I gather relics to shield their immaculate power from being pissed away by evil men. My vaults and that which I donate to international museums that I help fund, are sanctuaries for the old kings you refer to.” Purdue wet his gullet with the last pool of wine at the bottom of his glass and looked Vincent in the eye. “As long as I have these artifacts in my keeping, they are out of the hands of imps who wish to conquer the world with ancient magic to consolidate modern slavery.”
“And who might these imps be?” Vincent asked, sounding rather intrigued.
“Madmen, following the redundant dogmas of a hellhound from the Second World War, Vincent,” Purdue clarified with conviction. “Giants of finance, information technology, religion, politics . . . they are everywhere. Sam can attest to this. You might think I am greedy because I am wealthy, but never forget that there are many creeds of men and you cannot link a man’s material possessions to the substance of his soul.”
“Sounds to me like we are on the same page,” Sam grunted, sitting back and making himself comfortable. One of Vincent’s men came in and looked like he almost stood attention for the news he was bringing. “Sir, the radar is dark now.”
“Say what?” Sam asked.
Vincent grinned and said, “Gracias, Cortez.” He looked at his guests. “It looks like the Coast Guard and the search parties have finally left the site of our wreck, people. Now, I can drop you at Golfo de Almería, the closest to our current bearings. But I do not entirely trust you.”
“I can do you no harm, Captain,” Hannah stated. “Let me get off, please. I will find my way back home.”
“Me too,” Peter requested. “I think I’ve had enough excitement to anchor my career for a long while.”
Vincent shrugged. He knew these two were in no position to compromise his pursuits in the Alboran Sea. He excused himself to check on the radar readings he was alerted to. While he was absent, Peter approached Purdue and Sam, keeping his style casual, but his voice low. “Mr. Purdue, if you choose to stay onboard this vessel, do you want me to let anyone know that you and Mr. Cleave are alive and well?”
“That is swell of you, Peter,” Sam whispered, “but the formalities following such an ordeal might get in our way. What say you, Purdue?”
“Do you have your camera equipment with you? Or did it perish with the chopper?” Purdue asked him quickly.
“Nope, it’s in a protective case I brought with me. But it’s down in the sleeping quarters. Why?” Sam reported.
Purdue paused. “Sam is correct, Peter. If the authorities found out that we had survived, insurance claims would have to be lodged and accident reports and emergency procedures logged, all that. We need more time to see this thing through.”
“Aye, I’m with you,” Sam nodded.
“Maybe we should get Nina in on this,” Purdue suggested.
“Christ, Purdue, can’t you let her have a normal life for more than three months at a time?” Sam growled softly, throwing his hands up. “Give her a break.”
“Sam, we don’t know what that relic says. She can help us,” Purdue reasoned.
“No,” Sam persisted. “Leave her alone. You don’t have to know what the relic says. Let’s just see what we get and I’ll do a report on it, plain and simple.”
“Sir,” Hannah chipped in, “you don’t have to pursue this suicide mission with these blokes, you know?”
“I know, my dear,” Purdue answered. “But you know what Jeff and I returned with, right?” He was referring to the doubloon he retrieved while investigating the heap of bones his scanner located. “I just have to know why there are so many corpses on board and get Nina to carbon date whatever we discover.”
“Vincent is not going to like that,” Hannah replied.
“He doesn’t have to know,” Sam said. “Once we know what happened to the bodies down there, we’ll know if it is worth chasing after.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Purdue declared. “I just want to sate my curiosity under the guise of assistance. It will keep Vincent from killing us.” He smiled mischievously. “And if it turns out to be nothing, we’ll contact my people in Edinburgh.”
Sam looked surprised, since all their cell phones had ended up in the saline void after the collision. “Never fear,” Purdue whispered. “I have my tablet on me, just in case.”
Hannah shook her head and smiled. “Okay, but if I don’t see an exposé on the telly within the next two weeks I’m reporting this vessel.”
Purdue felt comfortable with Hannah’s intentions. “You do that, my dear.” He looked preoccupied, as he often did when his mental wheels refused to slow down. “I am all for this Inca prophecy, but I must confess, I would love to find out if El Dorado is real.”
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 7 Page 31
