She walked out and one of them followed her out the door.
“Don't take this personally,” Norman, one of the higher-ups in the Order of the Black Sun, said. “This isn't about you. It is about the general plans for the Order and where we want the Black Sun to go from here. The structure of our organization needs to be in constant flux. We will even have decoy leaders to serve as figureheads and...”
“Save your breath,” Agatha said. “I know why you don't want me to join. You all think you're so much better than me and so much better than everyone else. The Order of the Black Sun is just a tool to use to stroke your backs. I understand, believe me, I do. But, I could help the Order if I was allowed to. At the rate you're going, your agendas are going to warp everything you try to do completely. It will be tough to accomplish anything when you're spending all of that time trying to scrub the stain of your egos off your plans.”
Norman shook his head. “I don't think you're right about that.”
“Of course I am,” Agatha said. “It was already happening...but the truth is, I already have more power than your group. I already have more influence. And I already have a greater reach.”
“That's not possible...we would have heard...”
“No, you wouldn't have,” Agatha said. “Because that's how things like this should work. Your so-called secret society isn't very secret at all while you know nothing of the group I've assembled. The first rule you should make when creating a clandestine group is to make them invisible, really invisible, and not to let the world even realize it exists. That's a secret. The Order of the Black Sun is already doomed because of your inability to keep your secret society secret. None of you are up to the task...well, now maybe you are. But only you...just because you heard what I just said.”
Norman hopefully was understanding the points she was making, but she wasn't going to hold her breath. All of these old men were pretty dimwitted—Norman was just slightly less dense than the rest.
“Look, Agatha, I know you are upset...”
“Upset?” Agatha laughed. “No, no, Norman. I'm not upset. This was exactly how I expected things to happen. People like you and your friends don't change. That makes you predictable. And this was one of the most predictable meetings I have ever been a part of. I knew what I was walking into, and I knew how I would respond if I was rejected. I, as always, made proper preparations in the event that I was turned away.”
Norman's face grew pale, and he raised a brow. “What do you mean? What preparations?”
“Well...in the event that they accepted my help...I would know that they at least had some good judgment and could stick around. In the event that they didn't, the event that we are in right now, I would know that they weren't capable of making the smartest decision and would need to be removed before they could continue to make horrible choices.”
“Removed?”
“Yes,” Agatha said. “Removed. For the good of your group. You should be thanking me.”
“What do you mean by removed?”
Agatha didn't answer for a moment and just looked toward the doors to the room they had exited. Inside, all of those feeble old men were understanding why they had made a horrible mistake rejecting her.
“I would have told them about it if they accepted me,” Agatha said simply.
Norman looked very confused, and she couldn't exactly blame him. He hadn't quite figured out what she was implying, so she had to spell it out for him.
“I am glad you decided to follow me out, Norman,” Agatha said. “You were the only one I felt even a little bit of regret for. How fortuitous that you didn't stay an extra minute or two to have your sip of scotch with the rest.”
Her words hung between them out in that hallway for a long second. The slight wrinkles on Norman's face slowly twisted and contorted as his face morphed into one of confusion and then a dawning, horrified realization. He turned away from her and sprinted back toward the meeting room. Agatha slowly followed him, not in nearly as much of a rush. She didn't need to hurry inside—she knew what to expect when they got in.
As she entered the room, she found Norman standing at the center of the room, his hands on top of his head in utter shock, looking around at what was a crowded room just a minute before. Now, there were corpses strewn about in various positions. Most were seated, their limp bodies practically slipping out of their chairs. Some had gotten up but then collapsed onto the floor. There were scotch glasses rolled over on the table and some on the floor, while others had been dropped and shattered to pieces. Every dead member of the Order of the Black Sun had bloodshot eyes and spittle and blood running over their lips.
Poison—one of Agatha's favorite things. It was less nosy than a firearm, less messy than a blade, and presented far less of a chance of her getting harmed in the conflict. The kind she used could be very fast-moving, making things come to an end fairly quickly. She didn't need this to be a prolonged event; she just needed to make her point, to show that they had made the wrong decision. She hoped that those members of the Order of the Black Sun's council realized their mistake before they died, and she hoped that she was the last thing on their minds before they were gone.
“What did you—what did you do?” Norman gasped, his hands pulling down on his head. “What did you do!?”
“What was necessary,” Agatha said. “Believe me, the Order of the Black Sun will be much better off without all of these small-minded fools making the decisions. You were the best of them, Norman. I admit, that's not saying much in comparison, but I'm glad that you followed me out. Now you can assemble a better group to make the Order's decisions, hopefully a group that is more willing to consider new opportunities.”
“If I hadn't come out...my drink was spiked too? My glass?”
“Yes,” Agatha said. “The whole body was laced with it, and you all shared one bottle. See? It wasn't personal. I'm just glad that you made it out okay and in one piece.”
“You were going to kill me! You would have!”
“But I didn't,” Agatha cooed. “Don't get yourself all worked up, dear. There's no need for you to get upset. This is a good thing, as I said. The Order of the Black Sun will be better off for it. Trust me. I don't like your secret society. As you can see, I could remove it with a snap of my fingers. One order, and you and the rest of the Order's members would be gone. I could do that...but I won't. Let's see how you do.”
From that moment on, rumors and whispers about the Old Lady circulated throughout the Order. Some didn't believe the stories, while others treated it like a real threat that hung over everyone else. The rumblings were that the ruling council usually at least had to consult with her over the decisions she made, try to appease her, or she would come back and slaughter everyone with her poisons.
Everyone knew better than to ever want to meet the Old Lady because meeting her would probably mean the end of one's life, especially if you were a member of the Order of the Black Sun.
9
FACE TO FACE TO FACE
Purdue walked across a field of grass with the beauty of a pleasant day at the park all around him. Children were playing. Athletes were jogging. Dogs were barking. Birds were chirping. It was just like any other day for the most part, but there was at least one person there that wasn't a frequent visitor.
He had been waiting for a meeting with the Old Lady for a long time. He was excited to have the chance to confront the enemy that had been coming after him since practically the moment he became the new leader of the Order of the Black Sun. This was his chance to finally see who was trying to hurt him, and it was his chance to hopefully talk her down from her apparent crusade against him and all of his friends. He had had enough of the whispers and the minions she would dispatch to do her dirty work. The Old Lady was just a fable for so long, but now he would finally be able to put a face to the myth and see if she was as malicious as she seemed from a distance. This time, it would be close and personal, and he could finally see her with his own two eyes.
> Purdue gave one last glance at the van across the field where his colleagues were all crammed into. He hoped that they were watching closely and ready to jump to his aid because he might very well need it. He approached the location that the note specified—a bench on the eastern side of the duck pond.
The Old Lady sat on the bench, looking out at the pond. To any average person passing by, she was just a regular elderly woman enjoying an afternoon in the sunlight. They wouldn't be able to see what she was, the enormous spider that weaved so many intricate webs and killed so many flies. Even Purdue almost lowered his guard at the sight of the frail woman, but then he reminded himself of what she was. She was the one trying so hard to ruin everything he fought for. He didn't care if she knew about the future; he wasn't going to let the Old Lady win.
“It sure is a beautiful day today, don't you think, David Purdue?”
Purdue looked around at the trees. He couldn't deny that. “It is.”
“I think it's long past time that we met and finally spoke. The weather seems to agree.”
“Is that why you wanted to meet with me? You just wanted to talk about the weather? That feels like quite a dramatic thing to do for just a bit of jibber-jabber, aye?”
The Old Lady paused like she was trying to figure out what to say next. She seemed distant when she spoke, like she was analyzing the conversation rather than partaking in it.
“We needed to speak,” she said simply.
“Aye,” Purdue said. “I have been hoping for that...so I could tell you to bugger off and leave us all the hell alone. I don't know what history or connections you have with the Order of the Black Sun, and I don't care. I'm in charge of the Black Sun, and we're not going to have anything to do with you any longer.”
There was another pause before she spoke again.
“That is most unfortunate.”
The whole situation is unfortunate, Purdue thought.
“He should just kill her while he has the chance,” Julian said. “It would be helping us all down the road. She won't be as hesitant or merciful with us later on. Trust me.”
“Is that the only way you know how to do things?” Nina scoffed. “Just senseless violence when the alternative doesn't suit you?”
“Senseless violence? No. What I do is considered to be more sensible violence.”
“Can we just get back to focusing on the conversation?” Sam asked impatiently, tapping his headphones and staring at the monitor.
The camera wasn't the best. The image was more pixelated and blurry than they would have liked, but it was good enough for their purposes. They could at least see what was going on, and thanks to the bugs they planted, could hear everything they were saying clearly.
Purdue's body was blocking most of the Old Lady, and his body language made it obvious that Purdue was anxious. Nina couldn't blame him. She was feeling the same way. They were finally confronting the new threat that was plaguing them, and this might be their chance to get rid of it. She hoped they could, if only to screw her head back on straight. Her first encounter with the Old Lady had just left her confused and filled with nothing but uncertainty.
Nina watched the monitors intently as Purdue finally adjusted his position, and the Old Lady was entirely visible. She looked a bit different than Nina remembered. Maybe it was just the distortion from the camera, but she didn't look quite like she did in Nina's memory. She closed her eyes, focusing on the conversation coming through her headset. The Old Lady didn't sound quite the same, either. There was just something off about her compared to before.
“Sam, increase the volume.”
Sam turned a knob and the conversation came in more clearly. Nina listened closely. It sounded somewhat similar, but the inflection was different.
“Can we enhance the image?”
“Can do.”
Gerald typed in a few keys and the camera zoomed in on Purdue and the Old Lady. Nina stared at the blurry, pixelated visage on the screen, trying to remember the details of the Old Lady's withered face. She squinted and second-guessed herself probably a half dozen times in those few seconds, but she couldn't quite see the match. It seemed like a different face—maybe it was.
She got on the speaker.
“Purdue,” Nina said through the microphone. “That's not her.”
That's not her.
That couldn't be right. The Old Lady set the meeting, told them that she would meet them face-to-face, and he had complied. He and the Old Lady were meeting face-to-face, and they already started the conversation, the negotiation, or whatever this whole day in the park was. That had to be the Old Lady everyone was talking about.
Maybe he heard Nina wrong. He waited a long moment, trying not to give away that he had an earpiece. He wanted just to ask her to repeat herself, but that would completely give them away. Finally, Nina spoke again and repeated her statement.
“That's not the Old Lady.”
What did she mean? How could it not be? And if that was right, then who the hell was this woman sitting with him?
If anyone knew what the Old Lady looked like though and would be able to spot a fake, it was Nina. She was the only one in that van who had actually seen her and even had up close and personal conversations with her before. She would know...he had to trust that.
“That's not her, Purdue,” Nina said again in his ear. “I don't know who it is, and she's doing a halfway decent imitation, but that's not the woman I met.”
Purdue glanced at the old woman sitting beside him, and she stared at him expectantly, like she was waiting for a cue to know to start speaking again. Now that he thought about it, her whole demeanor had been odd the whole conversation. Her words didn't match her expressions, and she seemed so distant, with odd pauses in between. He caught sight of something in her ear and realized that he wasn't the only one wearing a tap in his ear. Maybe she was being fed the right things to say.
The best option would be to go for it and just be direct.
“Who the hell are you?”
The elderly woman's face grew flush and her mouth fell open. She stammered to find a word before pausing and he noticed her eyes flash toward her ear, like she was waiting to hear what she should respond with. Everything she was saying wasn't her words; they were being fed to her through her earlobe. It was a fake.
“I said, who the hell are you?” Purdue said, more forcefully this time. “Answer me. Now.”
“Wh-w-what do you mean?” The old woman asked, looking rattled. The tone was quite a bit different than the voice she had seconds earlier. “I arranged us to m-m-meet.”
“Did you now?” Purdue asked. “Is that so?”
The woman paused, just like she had been, probably being given her next message. Purdue suddenly lunged at the old woman, putting a hand on the side of her face and ripping the earpiece out of the hole in the side of her head. She let out a scream and practically fell off the bench. All of that calm, collected nature she displayed during the conversation evaporated. Now she was vulnerable, a puppet that had its strings cut so its master could no longer control her.
Purdue put the earpiece in his free ear, so now he had his friends in one and whoever was feeding the old woman lines in the other. He heard breathing in his ear, and a voice started speaking, practically right into his brain. It was a similar voice as this old woman, but noticeably different enough to be a separate voice.
“I am impressed, David Purdue.” It was the voice of a different woman—probably the Old Lady. “I didn't expect you to figure it out, at least not so quickly. I imagine we have the impressive Dr. Nina Gould to thank for that. She is something else. I'm jealous that she is so devoted to following you all over the place when she's clearly on the losing side.”
“Looks like you're losing today,” Purdue said. “This whole plan of yours kind of fell apart, didn't it? So what is the problem exactly, aye? You send that detective messenger of yours to get me here, I came—the real me, in person—and you decide to send an imposter
to speak for you? It's a bit of an odd choice. Any trust or progress you were trying to make with me...it kind of has to go out the window at that point, eh? How am I supposed to trust someone who breaks the agreement right off the bloody bat?”
“The decoy was merely a precaution, young man,” the Old Lady said in his ear. “You can never be too careful.”
“Why call this meeting then? Why get to drag myself out here if we were going to communicate like this? If this is how it was going to be, I think a simple phone call would have been more than sufficient to talk like this. All of this smoke and mirrors is just unnecessary.”
“That's where you're wrong, David,” the Old Lady said. “It was quite effective. It kept me out of harm's way but also gave me a chance to speak with you...nearly in person...before we had to bring you down. And it stalled you enough to make sure that everything was in its proper place.”
That didn't sound good.
Purdue was so focused on what was going on in his eardrum that he had kind of let the rest of the world slip away. When he looked around the park, he noticed that a lot of the passersby—the joggers, the woman pushing her baby in a carriage, and the people throwing a ball around—were suddenly all staring at him and starting to walk in his direction. That was when he noticed the firearms in their hands too. They all thought that Gerald's surveillance tech was going to give them the edge during this meeting, but they had been more than a little outmaneuvered. This entire park was just one big trap that Purdue had walked right into.
Within seconds, some of those guns were aiming at him and firing off shots. The bench got hit by a stray bullet as Purdue tried to take cover. The older lady that had been speaking for the real Old Lady was cowering on the ground, putting her hands on her head and probably just hoping that she didn't get hit by any of the rounds that were zipping through the air. Purdue could have probably left her behind but who knows what they would do to her for her failure. Even more than that, she might have information that they could use.
The Nostradamus Scrolls Page 7