Order of the Black Sun Box Set 8

by Preston William Child

  They joined with Kasper in the corridor of his floor.

  “How did you sleep, Dr. Jacobs?” Nina asked. “I have to apologize for not being downstairs last night.”

  “No, please do not worry, Dr. Gould,” he smiled. “Sam took care of me with age old Scottish hospitality, when it should have been I showing you two a Belgian welcome. After that much whiskey it was easy to sleep, even though the slumber sea was full of monsters.”

  “I can relate,” Sam muttered.

  “Don’t worry, Sam, I will help you all the way,” she consoled him, running her hand through his wild dark hair. “You did not shave this morning.”

  “I figured that a rougher look is befitting of Siberia,” he shrugged as they stepped into the elevator. “Besides, it will keep my face warmer…and less recognizable.”

  “Good thinking,” Kasper agreed lightheartedly.

  “What is going to happen when we get to Moscow, Sam?” Nina asked in the canned silence of the lift.

  “I will tell you on the plane. Only three hours to Russia,” he replied. His dark eyes shot up to the CCTV camera in the lift. “Cannot risk lip-reading.”

  She followed his gaze and nodded. “Aye.”

  Kasper delighted in the natural rhythm of his two Scottish associates, but it only reminded him of Olga and what terrible fate she may have faced already. He could not wait to step onto Russian soil, even if she had been taken elsewhere than what Sam Cleave speculated. As long as he could get even with Tuft, who was an integral part of the summit through Siberia.

  “What airfield are they using?” Nina asked. “I cannot imagine they would use Domodedovo for such important people.”

  “They are not. They are using a private airstrip to the northwest, called Koschei,” Sam elucidated. “I heard that at the opera theater when I slipped in, remember? It is privately owned by one of the Russian members of the International Atomic Energy Agency.”

  “That smells suspicious,” Nina scoffed.

  “It is,” Kasper affirmed. “Many of the members of the agency, as with the United Nations and the European Union, the Bilderberg delegates…are all in allegiance with the Order of the Black Sun. People refer to the New World Order, but nobody realizes that there is a far more sinister organization at work. Like a demon, it possesses these more familiar global organizations, and uses them as scapegoats before disembarking their vessels after the fact.”

  “Interesting analogy,” Nina remarked.

  “Actually, it is spot-on,” Sam agreed. “There is something innately dark about the Black Sun, something beyond global domination and elitist rule. It is almost esoteric in nature, using science to evolve.”

  “That makes one think,” Kasper added, as the elevator doors opened, “that such a deep rooted and lucrative body would be practically impossible to destroy.”

  “Aye, but we will keep growing on their genitals like a tenacious virus for as long as we have the power to make them itch and burn,” Sam smiled and winked, leaving the other two in stitches.

  “Thanks for that, Sam,” Nina giggled as she tried to recover. “Speaking of interesting analogies!”

  They took a taxi to the airport and hoped that they could make it to the private airfield on time to catch the train. One last time, Sam tried to call Purdue, but when a woman answered, he knew that Dr. Jacobs was right. He looked at Kasper Jacobs with an expression of alarm.

  “What is wrong?” Kasper asked.

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. “That was not Jane. I know Purdue’s personal assistant’s voice very well. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I fear Purdue is being held hostage. Whether he knows it or not, is irrelevant. I am calling Masters again. Someone should go and see what is going on at Wrichtishousis.” While they waited in the airline waiting area, Sam tried George Masters’ number again. He put the phone on speaker for Nina to hear, while Kasper went to get a coffee at the vending machine. To Sam’s surprise, George answered his phone, sounding sleepy.

  “Masters?” Sam exclaimed. “Fucking hell! It is Sam Cleave. Where have you been?”

  “Looking for you,” Masters replied sharply, suddenly a bit more cogent. “You gave Purdue the fucking equation after I explicitly told you not to.”

  Nina listened attentively with wide eyes. She mouthed, “He sounds pissed as hell!”

  “Look, I know,” Sam started his excuse, “but the research I did on it did not mention anything as threatening as what you told me.”

  “Your research is useless, mate,” George snapped. “Did you really think this level of destruction is easy to access to just anyone? What, did you think you would find it on Wikipedia? Huh? Only those of us who know, we know what it can do. Now you have gone and fucked it all up, clever boy!”

  “Listen, Masters, I have a way to prevent it from being used,” Sam suggested. “You can go to Purdue’s house, as my emissary, and explain it to him. Better yet, if you could get him out of there.”

  “Why would I?” Masters played hardball.

  “Because you want to stop this, right?” Sam tried to coax the mutilated man. “Hey, you totaled my car and took me hostage. You owe me a favor, I would say.”

  “Do your own dirty work, Sam. I tried to warn you and you discarded my knowledge. You want to stop him from using the Einstein Equation? Do it yourself, if you are so chummy with him,” Masters growled.

  “I am abroad, otherwise I would,” Sam elucidated. “Please, Masters. Just check on him.”

  “Where are you?” Masters asked, seemingly ignoring Sam’s imploring.

  “Belgium, why?” Sam answered.

  “I just want to know where you are so that I can find you,” he told Sam in a menacing tone. Nina’s eyes stretched even larger at that. Her dark brown peepers glimmered under her scowl. She looked at Kasper way over by the machine, who wore a worrisome expression on his face.

  “Masters, you can beat the snot out of me once this is over,” Sam attempted an accord with the furious scientist. “I will even throw a few punches to make it look two sided, but for Christ’s sake, please go to Wrichtishousis and tell the security at the gate to give your daughter a lift to Inverness.”

  “Excuse me?” Masters roared, laughing heartily. Sam smiled quietly as Nina revealed her confusion in the dumbest, comical expression.

  “Just tell them that,” Sam reiterated. “They will admit you and tell Purdue you are a friend of mine.”

  “Then what?” the insufferable grouch jeered.

  “Whatever you need to do to impart the dangerous element of the Dire Serpent on him,” Sam shrugged. “And be warned. There is a woman with him who thinks she controls him. Her name is Lilith Hurst, a nurse with a God-complex.”

  Masters was dead quiet.

  “Hey, can you hear me? Do not let her influence your conversation with Purdue…” Sam continued. He was interrupted by an unexpectedly soft response by Masters. “Lilith Hurst? Did you say, Lilith Hurst?”

  “Aye, she was Purdue’s nurse, but apparently he finds a kindred in her because they share a love for science,” Sam informed him. Nina recognized the sound Masters made on the other side of the line. It was the sound of a distraught man recollecting a bad break-up. It was the sound of emotional turmoil still scathing.

  “Masters, this is Nina, Sam’s associate,” she said suddenly, grabbing Sam’s arm to hold the phone steady for her. “Do you know her?”

  Sam looked confused, but only because he did not have Nina’s female intuition on the subject. Masters breathed in hard and then slowly exhaled. “I know her. She was involved in the experiment that left me looking like Freddy fucking Krueger, Dr. Gould.”

  Sam felt a jolt of horror strike his chest. He had no idea that Lilith Hurst was really a scientist beyond the walls of a hospital laboratory. At once, he realized that she posed a far bigger threat than he ever believed.

  “Right, then, son,” Sam interrupted, striking while the iron is hot, “all the more reason for you to pay a visit and show
Purdue what his new girlfriend is capable of.”

  26

  All Aboard!

  Koschei Airfield, Moscow – 7 hours later

  When the summit delegation arrived at the Koschei Airstrip outside Moscow, it was not an unpleasant evening by most standards, but it was dark early. Everyone had been to Russia before, but never before had the relentless reports and proposals been presented on a moving luxury train with only the finest cuisine and accommodations money could buy. From the private jets, the guests stepped onto a smooth cement area that led into a simple, but opulent building – the Koschei Train Station.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Clifton Tuft smiled as he took his place in front of the entrance, “I would like to welcome you to Russia, on behalf of my associate and owner of the Valkyrie Trans-Siberian, Mr. Wolf Kretchoff!”

  A resounding applause from the refined group showed their appreciation for the ingenious idea. Many of the representatives had previously voiced their wish that these symposiums would be held in more interesting environments, and finally it could be accommodated. Wolf stepped onto the small landing of the entrance where everyone waited, in order to explain.

  “My friends and fine associates,” he preached in his heavy accent, “it is my honor and the privilege of my company, Kretchoff Security Conglomerate, to host this year’s meeting aboard our train. My company, in association with Tuft Industries, has been working on this project for the last four years and finally the brand new tracks will be put to use.”

  Fascinated by the physically imposing businessman’s enthusiasm and eloquence, the delegates erupted in another applause. Hidden inside the far corner niche of the building, three figures crouched in the darkness, listening. Nina cringed at the sound of Wolf’s voice, still recalling his hateful blows. Neither she, nor Sam could believe that the common thug was an affluent citizen. To them he was just McFadden’s attack dog.

  “The Koschei Strip has been my private landing strip for several years since I purchased the land, and today, I have the pleasure of introducing our own, elite train station,” he continued. “Please follow me.” With that, he walked through the doors with Tuft and Mc Fadden in his tracks, followed by the delegates, bustling with awed remarks in their respective languages. Through the small, but lavish, station they strolled, admiring the strong architecture in the vein of the Krutitsy Metochion. Its arches, three in number leading to the exit onto the platform, were constructed in Baroque fashion with a strong taste of medieval architecture blended in to keep to the harsh climate conditions.

  “Simply phenomenal,” McFadden swooned, desperate to be heard. Wolf just smiled as he led the group to the exterior doors at the platform, but before exiting, he turned again to make a speech.

  “And now, finally, ladies and gentlemen of the Atomic Renewable Energy Summit,” he roared, “I have one last pleasure to present. Behind me is another force majeure in our endless pursuit of excellence. Please come through to join me on her maiden voyage.”

  The large Russian led them out onto the platform.

  “I know he is not English speaking,” a member of the United Kingdom representatives told a colleague, “but I wonder if he meant to call this train a ‘force majeure’ or perhaps he misunderstood the phrase as something powerful?”

  “I suppose he intended the latter,” the other speculated politely. “I am just grateful he even speaks English. Don’t you hate it when they have ‘conjoined twins’ lapping about everywhere to translate for them?”

  “Too right,” the first delegate agreed.

  Under a substantial tarp, the train waited. Nobody knew what it would look like, but by the size of it there was no doubt that it took an ingenious engineer to design it.

  “Now, we wanted to keep some nostalgia in place, so we designed this wonderful machine in the same fashion as the old TE model while using Thorium-based nuclear power to drive the engine, instead of steam,” he smiled proudly. “What better way to fuel a locomotive of the future while hosting a symposium on the new energy alternatives available?”

  Sam, Nina and Kasper lurked just behind the last line of representatives. At the mention of the nature of the train’s fuel, some of the scientists looked somewhat uncomfortable, but dared not object. Kasper gasped, though.

  “What?” Nina asked under her breath. “What is wrong?”

  “Thorium-based nuclear energy,” Kasper replied, looking absolutely horrified. “This is next level shit, my friends. As far as the world’s energy resources go, the Thorium alternative is still under consideration. As far as I know, such a fuel had not yet been harnessed to be used like this,” he explained softly.

  “Will it explode?” she asked.

  “No, well…you see, it is not as volatile as say, plutonium, but since it has the potential to be an immensely powerful energy, I am a little worried about the acceleration we are looking at here,” he clarified.

  “Why?” Sam whispered, his face hidden under his hood. “Trains are supposed to go fast, aren’t they?”

  Kasper tried to explain to them, but he knew that only physicists and the like would truly understand what concerned him. “Look, if this is a TE locomotive…that…that is a steam engine. It is like putting a Ferrari engine into a baby’s pram.”

  “Oh shit,” Sam remarked. “Then why would their physicists not see that when they built the fucking thing?”

  “You know what the Black Sun is like, Sam,” Kasper reminded his new friend. “They do not give a shit about safety, as long as they have the bigger dick.”

  “Aye, you can bank on that,” Sam agreed.

  “Fuck me!” Nina suddenly gasped in a hard whisper.

  Sam gave her a long look. “Now? Now you give me the option?”

  Kasper chuckled, smiling for the first time since he lost his Olga, but Nina was dead serious. She took a deep breath and pinched her eyes shut as she always did when checking her facts inside her head.

  “You said the engine is a TE-model steam engine?” she asked Kasper. He nodded affirmatively. “Do you know what the TE really is?” she asked the men. They exchanged glances for a moment and shook their heads. Nina was about to drop a concise history lesson on them that explained a lot. “They were designated TE after they passed over into Russian ownership after the World War II,” she said. “During the Second World War they were produced as Kriegslokomotiven, ‘war locomotives’. They made a fuckload of them by altering the DRG 50 models into DRB 52’s, but after the war, they were assimilated into private ownerships of countries like Russia, Romania and Norway.”

  “Nazi loco’s,” Sam sighed. “And I thought we had problems before. Now we have to find Olga while worrying about nuclear power under our arses. Jaysuss.”

  “Like old times, hey, Sam?” Nina smiled. “When you were a reckless investigative journalist.”

  “Aye,” he scoffed, “before I became a reckless explorer with Purdue.”

  “Oh God,” Kasper moaned at the sound of Purdue’s name. “I hope he buys into your message about the Dire Serpent, Sam.”

  “He will or he will not,” Sam shrugged. “We have done all we could from our side. For now, we should get on that train and find Olga. That should be all we care about until she is safe.”

  On the platform, the impressed delegates cheered as the brand new, vintage-looking locomotive was unveiled. It was certainly a magnificent machine, although the new brass and steel gave it a grotesque, Steampunk touch that took from its spirit.

  “How did you get us into this area so easily, Sam?” Kasper asked. “Owned by a prominent security affiliate of the meanest organization of villains in the world, you would think it was more difficult to get in here.”

  Sam smiled. Nina knew that look. “Oh Christ, what did you do?”

  “The Bratva hooked us up,” Sam answered, amused.

  “The what?” Kasper whispered curiously.

  Nina looked at Kasper. “The fucking Russian Mafia, Dr. Jacobs.” She sounded like an exasperated mother
discovering once more that her son had repeated a crime. Many times before Sam toyed with the bad boys of the block to gain access to illegal things and Nina never stopped reprimanding him for it. Her dark eyes pierced his in silent judgment, but he smiled boyishly.

  “Hey, against these Nazi pricks, you want this kind of ally,” he reminded her. “Sons of sons of gulag enforcers and gangs. In the world we move in, I thought you would have appreciated by now that throwing down the blackest ace always wins the game. There is no fair play when it comes to evil empires. There is only evil and worse evil. It pays to have a trump card up your sleeve.”

  “Alright, alright,” she said. “You do not have to go all Martin Luther King on me. I just think it is a bad idea to be in the debt of the Bratva.”

  “How do you know I have not paid them yet?” he teased.

  Nina rolled her eyes. “Oh, come now. What did you promise them?”

  Kasper seemed keen to hear the answer too. Both he and Nina leaned over and waited for Sam’s answer. Hesitating for the immorality of his answer, Sam knew he had to square with his companions. “I promised them something they want. The head of their competition.”

  “Let me guess,” Kasper said. “Their competition is that Wolf guy, right?”

  Nina’s face darkened at the mention of the thug, but she bit her tongue.

  “Aye, they want the head of their competition, and after what he did to Nina, I will go out of my way to deliver,” Sam admitted. Nina felt warm at his devotion, but something about his choice of words struck her.

  “Wait a minute,” she whispered. “You mean they want his actual head?”

  Sam chuckled while Kasper winced on the other side of Nina. “Aye, they want him eradicated and made to look like one of his own associates did it. I know I am only a humble journalist,” he smiled through the bullshit, “but I have spent enough time among people like that to know how to frame someone.”