Order of the Black Sun Box Set 8

by Preston William Child

  “Good God, Sam,” Nina sighed. “You are becoming more like them than you know.”

  “I agree with him, Nina,” Kasper said. “In this line of work we cannot afford to play by the rules. We cannot even afford to maintain our values at this point. People like this, who are going to harm innocent people for their own benefit don’t deserve the blessing of good judgment Such individuals are a virus to the world and they merit the same treatment as a patch of mold on a wall.”

  “Aye! That is exactly what I mean,” Sam said.

  “I do not disagree at all,” Nina argued. “All I am saying is that we should make sure we do not become affiliates of people like the Bratva, just because we have a common enemy.”

  “That is true, but we will never do that,” he assured her. “You know that we always know where we stand in the scheme of things. Personally, I enjoy the ‘you don’t fuck with me, I don’t fuck with you’-concept. And I shall stand by it for as long as I can.”

  “Hey!” Kasper alerted them. “Looks like they are boarding. What do we do?”

  “Wait,” Sam halted the eager physicist. “One of the platform conductors is Bratva. He will signal us.”

  It took some time for the dignitaries to board the lavish train with its old world charm. From the engine, just like a common steam locomotive, white billows of steam appeared, expelled from the cast iron chimney. Nina took a moment to relish the beauty of it before perking up for the signal. Once everyone was on board, Tuft and Wolf shared a brief exchange of whispers ending in laughter. Then they synchronized watches and stepped through the last door of the second carriage.

  A bulky man in uniform crouched to tie his shoe.

  “That’s it!” Sam urged his companions. “That is our signal. We have to enter at the door where he ties his shoe. Come on!”

  Under the dark dome of night the three set out to rescue Olga and derail whatever the Black Sun had planned for the global representatives they just captured voluntarily.

  27

  Lilith’s Bane

  George Masters was amazed at the remarkable structure that loomed over the driveway as he pulled up his vehicle and parked where Wrichtishousis security had told him to. The night was mild, while the full moon glimpsed through passing clouds. All around the main entrance of the manor, tall trees whispered in the breeze, as if telling the world to hush. Masters felt an odd sense of peace mingle with his mounting apprehension.

  Knowing that Lilith Hurst was inside only fueled his will to intrude. By now, security had notified Purdue that Masters was on his way up. Skipping up the crude marble steps of the front facade, Masters kept his mind focused on the task at hand. He had never been a good negotiator, but this would be a true test of his diplomacy. No doubt Lilith would react with hysteria, he figured, since she was under the impression that he was dead.

  Opening the door, Masters was amazed to see the tall, slender billionaire himself. His white crown was well known, but there was not much else about his current condition reminiscent of the tabloid pictures and formal philanthropic parties. Purdue was stone-faced, whereas he was known for his cheerful, suave manner with people. Had Masters not known what Purdue looked like, he may well have thought that the man before him was a doppelganger from the dark side. Masters found it peculiar that the master of the manor would answer his own door, and Purdue was ever sharp enough to read his expression.

  “I am between butlers,” Purdue remarked impatiently.

  “Mr. Purdue, my name is George Masters,” Masters introduced himself. “Sam Cleave sent me to bring you a message.”

  “What is it? The message, what is it?” Purdue asked abruptly. “I am very busy reconstructing a theory at the moment and I have little time to finish it, if you do not mind.”

  “Actually, that is what I am here to talk about,” Masters answered eagerly. “I have to give you some insight on…well, on the…Dire Serpent.”

  Suddenly Purdue snapped out of his daze and his eyes fell straight on the visitor with the wide brim hat and long coat. “How do you know about the Dire Serpent?”

  “Allow me to explain,” Masters implored. “Inside.”

  Reluctantly, Purdue combed the lobby with his eyes to see if they were alone. He was in a hurry to salvage what was left of the half-deleted equation, but he also needed to know as much about it. He stepped aside. “Come in, Mr. Masters.” Purdue gestured to the left, where the high door frame of the opulent dining room beckoned. Inside was the warm glow of the fire in the hearth. Its crackling was the only sound in the house, which gave the place an unmistakable air of melancholy.

  “Brandy?” Purdue asked his guest.

  “Thank you, yes,” Masters answered. Purdue wished him to remove his hat, but he did not know how to ask it of him. He poured the drink and motioned for Masters to sit down. As if Masters could feel the impropriety, he thought to apologize for his dress.

  “I should just like to ask you to excuse my manners, Mr. Purdue, but I must wear this hat at all times,” he explained. “At least, in public.”

  “May I ask why?” Purdue asked.

  “Let me just say that I had an accident a few years ago that left me a little unattractive,” Masters said. “But if it is any consolation, I have a great personality.”

  Purdue laughed. It was unexpected and wonderful. Masters could not smile, of course.

  “I will get right to the point, Mr. Purdue,” Masters said. “Your discovery of the Dire Serpent is no secret among the scientific community, and I regret to tell you that the news has reached the more nefarious parties of the underground elite.”

  Purdue frowned. “How? Only Sam and I have the material.”

  “I am afraid not, Mr. Purdue,” Masters lamented. As Sam had requested, the burned man curbed his temper and general impatience to keep an even keel with David Purdue. “Since you returned from the Lost City, someone leaked the news to several covert websites and high profile businessmen.”

  “That is preposterous,” Purdue scoffed. “I did not talk in my sleep after the operation, and Sam does not need the attention.”

  “No, I agree. But there were others present while you were admitted to hospital, am I right?” Masters insinuated.

  “Only medical staff,” Purdue replied. “Dr. Patel has no idea what the Einstein Equation means. The man is solely invested in reconstructive surgery and human biology.”

  “What about nurses?” Masters asked deliberately, playing dumb and sipping his brandy. He could see Purdue’s eyes freeze as he gave it thought. Slowly, Purdue shook his head from side to side, while inside him, the issues of his staff with his new lover came to play.

  ‘No, it could not be,’ he thought. ‘Lilith is on my side.’ But the other voice in his reasoning came to the fore. It cordially reminded him of the alarm he could not hear the other night, the security headquarters suggesting that a female was spotted in the dark on their footage and the fact that he was drugged. Nobody else was in the mansion, apart from Charles and Lillian, and they profited nothing from the equation’s data.

  As he sat pondering, another conundrum bothered him too, mostly the clarity of it, now that the suspicion of his beloved Lilith was introduced. His heart begged him to disregard the evidence, but his logic overrode his emotions just enough to keep an open mind.

  “Perhaps a nurse,” he muttered.

  Her voice cut through the tranquility of the room. “You do not seriously believe that crap, David,” Lilith gasped, playing the victim again.

  “I did not say that I believed it, dear,” he corrected her.

  “But you contemplated it,” she said, sounding hurt. Her eyes darted to the stranger on the sofa, hiding his identity under a hat and coat. “And who is this?”

  “Please, Lilith, I am trying to have a conversation with my guest in private,” Purdue told her a little more firmly.

  “Fine, if you want to let strangers into your house, who could very well be spies of that organization you cower from, that is your
problem,” she snapped immaturely.

  “Well, that is what I do,” Purdue responded rapidly. “After all, is that not what got you into my house?”

  Masters wished he could smile. After what the Hurst’s and their colleagues did to him at Tuft Chemical Facility, she deserved to be buried alive, let alone get flack from her husband’s idol.

  “I cannot believe you just said that, David,” she hissed. “I will not take this from some cloaked crook who comes in here and corrupts you. Have you told him you have work to do?”

  Purdue looked at Lilith in disbelief. “He is a friend of Sam’s, my dear, and I am still the master of this house, if I may remind you?”

  “Master of this house? Funny, because your own staff could not take your erratic behavior anymore!” she bitched. Lilith leaned to look around Purdue at the man with the hat she loathed for his interference. “I do not know who you are, sir, but you best leave. You are upsetting David’s work.”

  “Why do you complain about finishing my work, my dear?” Purdue asked her calmly. Upon his face, a faint smile threatened to come through. “When you know full well that the equation was completed three nights ago already.”

  “I know no such thing,” she retorted. Lilith was livid at the accusations, mostly because they were true and she feared that she was about to lose control of David Purdue’s affection. “Where do you get all these lies from?”

  “Security cameras do not lie,” he argued, still keeping a serene tone.

  “They show nothing but a moving shadow and you know it!” she defended heatedly. Her bitchiness gave way to tears in hopes of playing the pity card, but to no avail. “Your security people are in league with your house staff! Can you not see that? Of course they will insinuate that it was me.”

  Purdue stood up and poured another brandy for him and his guest. “Would you like one too, my dear?” he asked Lilith. She uttered a yelp of exasperation.

  Purdue added, “How else would so many dangerous scientists and businessmen find out that I discovered the Einstein Equation in the Lost City? Why were you so adamant for me to complete it? You transmitted incomplete data to your associates and that is why you are pushing me to complete it again. Without the solution, it is practically useless. You need to send those last few pieces in order for it to work.”

  “That is correct,” Masters spoke for the first time.

  “You! Shut the fuck up!” she shrieked.

  Purdue would normally not allow someone to yell at his guests, but he knew that her hostility was a sign of admittance. Masters rose from his chair. With care, he slowly removed his hat under the electric light of the lamps while the firelight added nuance to his grotesque features. Purdue’s eyes froze in horror at the sight of the mutilated man. His speech had already given away that he was deformed, but the sight of him was quite worse than expected.

  Lilith Hurst recoiled, but the man’s features were so mauled that she did not recognize him. Purdue allowed the man his moment, because he was immensely curious.

  “Think back, Lilith, to the Tuft Chemical site in Washington DC,” Masters slurred.

  She shook her head in fear, hoping that denying it would make it untrue. Flashbacks of her and Phillip setting up the vessel returned like jabbing blades in her forehead. She fell to her knees and held her head, keeping her eyes tightly closed.

  “What is going on, George?” Purdue asked Masters.

  “Oh Jesus, no, it cannot be!” Lilith wailed into her hands. “George Masters! George Masters is dead!”

  “Why would you assume that, if you did not plan for me to be roasted? You and Clifton Tuft, Phillip and the other sick bastards used that Belgian physicist’s theory in hoped that you could claim the glory for yourselves, you bitch!” Masters drawled as he came toward the hysterical Lilith.

  “We didn’t know! It was not supposed to burn up like that!” she tried to reason, but he shook his head.

  “No, even an elementary school science teacher knows that that kind of acceleration will cause the vessel to combust with that much velocity,” Masters screeched down at her. “You tried then what you are going to try now, only this time you are doing it on a devilishly large scale, aren’t you?”

  “Wait,” Purdue halted the revelation. “What large scale? What did they do?”

  Masters looked at Purdue, his deep-set eyes glinting under his molten brow. A hoarse chuckle ensued from the slit that was left of his mouth.

  “Lilith and Phillip Hurst were funded by Clifton Tuft to apply an equation roughly based on the infamous Dire Serpent to an experiment. I was working with a genius such as yourself, a man by the name of Kasper Jacobs,” he recounted in slow words. “They found out that Dr. Jacobs had solved the Einstein Equation, not the famous one, but a sinister possibility of physics.”

  “The Dire Serpent,” Purdue murmured.

  “This,” he hesitated to call her what he wished he could, “woman and her colleagues robbed Jacobs of the credit. They used me as a test subject, knowing that the experiment would kill me. The velocity on entry through the barrier disrupted the energy field in the facility, causing a monumental explosion, leaving me a molten mess of smoke and flesh!”

  He grabbed Lilith by her hair. “Look at me now!”

  She pulled a Glock from her jacket pocket and shot Masters pointblank in the head, before aiming it straight at Purdue.

  28

  Terror Train

  On the trans-Siberian flash train, the delegates made themselves at home. The two-day trip promised all luxuries equal to any lavish hotel in the world, except for the swimming pool privileges nobody would appreciate in the Russian autumn anyway. Each large compartment was decked out with a queen sized bed, mini bar, en suite bathroom and heat.

  The announcement was made that, due to the nature of the train’s construction, there would be no cellular or internet connections until the town of Tyumen.

  “Tuft really went all out with the interiors, I must say,” McFadden grinned jealously. He was clutching his champagne glass and studying the interior decoration of the train, with Wolf beside him. Tuft joined them soon after. He looked focused, but relaxed.

  “Heard from Zelda Bessler yet?” he asked Wolf.

  “Nyet,” Wolf answered, shaking his head. “But she says that Jacobs fled Brussels after we took Olga. The goddamn coward probably thought he was next…had to get out. The best part is that he thinks that his leaving with his work leaves us empty.”

  “Yes, I know,” the repulsive American grinned. “Maybe he is trying to be a hero and coming to rescue her.” They kept their laughter restrained to fit their image with the international council members McFadden asked Wolf, “Where is she, by the way?”

  “Where do you think?” Wolf scoffed. “He is not a fool. He will know where to look.”

  Tuft did not like the odds. Dr. Jacobs was a very sharp man, even though he was exceptionally naïve. He did not doubt that a scientist of his conviction would at least attempt to come after his girlfriend.

  “As soon as we disembark at Tyumen, the project will be in full swing,” Tuft told the other two men. “By that time we must have Kasper Jacobs on this train, so that he can perish with the rest of the delegates. The dimensions he created for the vessel is calculated on the weight of this train, minus the collective weight of yourselves, myself and Bessler.”

  “Where is she?” McFadden asked, looking around, but finding her absent form the large summit party.

  “She is in the control booth of the train, waiting for the data Hurst owes us,” Tuft reported as softly as he could. “As soon as we get the rest of the equation, the project is locked. We leave during the stop at Tyumen, while the delegates are inspecting the town’s power reactor and having their senseless report lecture.” Wolf was scanning the guests on the train while Tuft laid out the plan for the perpetually uninformed McFadden. “By the time the train has continued on to the next town, they should notice that we have left…and that would be too late.”r />
  “And you want Jacobs on the train with the symposium members,” McFadden clarified.

  “That is right,” Tuft affirmed. “He knows everything and he was going to defect. God knows what would happen to our hard work if he leaked what we are working on.”

  “Absolutely,” McFadden agreed. He turned his back slightly on Wolf to speak to Tuft under his breath. Wolf excused himself to run a security sweep of the delegates’ dining car. McFadden led Tuft aside.

  “I know this might be the wrong time, but when will I be getting my…” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “grant for the second stage? I cleared off the opposition in Oban for you, so I can carry the motion to establish one of your reactors there.”

  “You need more money already?” Tuft frowned. “I already backed your election and deposited the first eight million Euro into your offshore account.”

  McFadden shrugged, looking terribly embarrassed. “I just want to consolidate my interests in Singapore and Norway, you know, just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” Tuft asked impatiently.

  “It is an uncertain political climate. I just need some insurance. A safety net,” McFadden groveled.

  “McFadden, you will get paid when this project is completed. Only once the global decision makers of the NPT countries and the I.A.E.A. people come to a tragic end in Novosibirsk, their respective cabinets will have no choice but to appoint their successors,” Tuft explained. “All the current deputy presidents and ministerial candidates are members of the Black Sun. Once they are sworn in, we will have monopoly and only then, you will receive your second installment as a covert representative of the Order.”

  “So, you are going to cause this train to derail?” McFadden pried. He was of so little consequence to Tuft and his big picture that he was not worth telling. Still, the more McFadden knew, the more he had to lose and that would tighten Tuft’s grip on his balls. Tuft put his arm around the insignificant judge and mayor.