Order of the Black Sun Box Set 8

by Preston William Child

  On the dirty floor of Hessler’s chamber Bernard heard the chauffeur enter and the order that followed filled him with dread. “Kill the hostages. Take pictures on Bernard’s phone and bring it to the car.”

  Without a word or a second assault, the men left the bleeding Bernard behind as the rain and wind continued, oblivious to the hell he endured. There was no time. Rudy, the chauffeur would find Nina and the others if he did not act. With Major Rian on his way to the car, only Rudy was left. Bernard stumbled to his feet, holding his stomach. With all his strength, he toiled to climb the retractable ladder that led through the roof of the chamber and into the vast room where Nina was kept. If he could just make it into the room, even just enough to warn her, he hoped.

  Bernard stuck his head through the trapdoor, his gaze level with the floor. Nina was sleeping on the blankets provided. The thick stone walls did not carry the sound of the altercation below her. “Nina! Nina!” he tried hoarsely. She did not wake and he could not scream. But he could alert her. His weakening fingers hooked around the cell keys on his belt and unclipped them. With great difficulty, he tried not to drop them as his body became exceedingly numb, and he lifted the keys above his shoulder. He was standing on the stepladder, aiming for Nina’s head.

  With all he had, he threw the keys, striking Nina on the back of the head. She jumped up fiercely, frowning and thoroughly pissed off. “What the fuck!”

  “Nina!” Bernard wheezed, finally getting her attention. She turned to see his ghostly countenance, void of blood, peeking at her from the floor. “Jesus Christ, Bernard!” she shrieked in fright. From under him, Rudy had stalked up to him and pulled his legs away. Nina watched Bernard fall back into the hole and she knew something was happening. It was then that she saw the keys, an irrefutable sign of trouble. Quickly she scampered to unlock the gated cell doors.

  A gunshot clapped at the hole where Bernard fell, but Nina just barely dodged the bullet. She fell hard on her knees to avoid the ricochet of the second and slithered down the narrow stairs to where Brian was screaming her name.

  “I am coming, sweetheart! I am on my way!” she cried as she ran-fell over the stone stairs where the women were wailing and panicking to protect the boy.

  “We heard gunshots!” Pam said when she saw Nina stumbling toward them with the keys. “Did they get you? Are you hurt?”

  “Nah, I am alright,” she huffed as she tried key after key without success.

  “How did you get the keys, Miss Nina?” Brian asked.

  “Bernard gave them to me,” she panted heavily. They heard Rudy’s footsteps clap down the stairs toward them. “Here! You look for the right key so long,” Nina ordered Pam. “Anything can hit him with?”

  “Try this,” Sue said, and passed Nina the steel tray.

  Rudy was not stupid. After the petite historian evaded his onslaught upstairs, he doubled back through Bernard’s chamber to follow her voice downstairs. He knew she was there, waiting, but he was not afraid of a small woman. That was perhaps his greatest error.

  Rudy emerged through the doorway, keeping his gun tightly by his side. He was not an idiot, toting his gun out ahead of him to be struck from his hand, even if she was that strong. Nina used the tray’s edge, like a discus, to strike the deadly chauffeur’s kneecaps, a move he did not see coming. It was very painful, but hardly enough to immobilize him, which she was aware of. Nina grabbed his gun side wrist and rammed her fist into his scrotum, which had better effect so soon after the initial surprise. Rudy yelped like a dog at the end of a boot, and Nina utilized the momentary upper hand perfectly. She speared him backwards off his feet, just as Pam managed to unlock the cage they almost died in.

  While Nina straddled the man, Pam screeched in rage, and attacked. Her weight held him down as she helped Nina keep the gun away. Both women knew that murder was the only way to survive now. With Pam holding Rudy down, Nina grabbed him by the sides of his head and lifted it a few inches. With one powerful thrust, she slammed his skull down on the edge of the stair. It cracked like an egg under her force and Rudy’s body went limp.

  “Do not look at him,” she said to Pam.

  “No fucking problem,” Pam replied.

  “Bring me a blanket, so Brian cannot see this,” Nina requested. She covered his dead pearled eyes and the bloody stairs under him. “Listen, we have to get to Bernard’s office quickly.”

  The two younger women led the way with Brian helping his grandmother move in their wake. Outside it was pouring, so they did not hear the major returning to see what was keeping Rudy. Once they found the room under Nina’s former prison, they stopped abruptly.

  “Oh my God,” Pam said, quickly halting her son and Sue. “You cannot see this. He is dead.”

  They waited in the corridor as Nina snuck closer to see what Rudy had scribbled in his own blood. From the doorway, Pam asked what it said. Nina carefully read the information.

  “A swastika,” she frowned. “Above it it says ‘Bendera’ and ‘Herxheim am Berg’ underneath it.”

  “Great, so what is that all about?” Pam asked.

  “Miss Nina,” Brian summoned.

  “Wait a bit, honey,” Nina said. “I am just trying to figure this out.”

  “Miss Nina,” Brian repeated. “There is a man in a suit coming this way.”

  “Oh shit!” Pam growled quietly and seized Sue and Brian. She pulled them into Bernard’s room and hid around the corner.

  Nina had to cancel the threat creeping up on them before she could decipher Bernard’s message. Peeking around the corner from the low vantage point of her haunches, Nina saw Major Rian take the stairs down to where the Callany’s had been kept.

  “Oh shit, he is going to find his mate lying there and he will know!” Pam whispered.

  “Shh, he already knows about us,” Nina told her in a hard whisper. It dawned on her that he would soon discover Rudy’s body and mar their escape. “Wait here!” she said, and scarpered down the corridor, right to where the Major was.

  “She is daft!” Sue whispered.

  “No, I know what she going to do,” Pam smiled. “Using gravity.”

  She was right. As Major Rian rounded the corner to the stairs, he saw the covered body. “Rudy!” he cried. “Are you done yet? We have to go!”

  Nina stood right behind him at the top of the stairs, while he thought the body was one of the hostages. “Rudy’s dead, motherfucker,” Nina said, and pushed the old man hard. He wailed as he tumbled down the long and narrow stairs, landing on his chauffeur’s corpse.

  “Is he dead?” Pam asked from right behind her.

  “Good God, Pam. Scare me to death, will you!” she shrieked. “Let us go see what the message means.”

  Back in Bernard’s chamber, Nina crouched to have a look again. “I know what he is trying to say. Bendera was one of four prisoners who escaped Auschwitz. Okay, so what is that to us?”

  “We are escaping, Miss Nina,” Brian shrugged.

  “Aye, but what is he trying to tell us? How to escape?” she chuckled.

  “Why not?” Sue asked with a tilt of her head. “Maybe.”

  “They escaped in a car, dressed as SS officers. They simply drove out of the concentration camp,” Nina reported. “A car, perhaps?”

  “And the other mishmash of words?” Pam asked.

  “Herxheim am Berg was, is, a town…” she drawled as she wracked her brain.

  “And what is special about it?” Sue pried curiously.

  Nina scowled as she tried to remember why the town sounded so familiar. It came to her like a hammer to a hamster’s head. “Of course!” she exclaimed. “It has a church bell in honor of Hitler in the tower! You heard a bell like a church bell here, right?”

  “So this bloke knew his history,” Sue remarked.

  “He sure did,” Nina affirmed as she got on her feet and looked down at the snide criminal who ended up saving their lives. “And he knew I would get this.” From his bed, she drew down one of the bla
nkets and draped it over Bernard’s body. “Shall we get the hell out of here?”

  They gathered up some tins of food and all the bread and wrapped it up. At the tap they drank their fill while Brian watched the doorway for more surprises. Knowing that the old man would soon recover, they went out to the bell tower as Bernard instructed. At first, they hopped in the truck, but Brian shouted out and pointed behind the seat. “Miss! Miss Nina! The scabbard!”

  “Where?” she asked and rounded the tower wall to see. Nina smiled. “Bernard, you are redeemed, son.” She grabbed the scabbard and put it on Brian. “Can you drag this with you for the moment, Sir Knight?”

  “Absolutely, Miss,” the boy beamed.

  “Ladies, let us drive out of here in style. I will make some calls in town and see what we can do to get you all to safety,” Nina suggested. They rushed back through the cold downpour into the arched gateway, where the black Hudson was waiting. Nina reached into the front and jangled the keys, striking a pose. Her posh Brit accent was on par. “Whereto, ladies and gentleman?”

  Pam played along, to her son’s delight. With a proper accent she replied, “Why, to the nearest watering hole, Jeeves.”

  They helped the timid Sue into the backseat where Brian took care of his grandmother. Sue jumped into the passenger seat and Nina quickly worked out the workings of the car. They drove away from the beautifully sinister abbey, down into town.

  “My God, this place is beautiful,” Pam said dreamily. They all gawked from the windows of the classic car, admiring the natural scenery and the mighty ocean breathing over the landscape. The hard rain had now diminished to drizzle, allowing them to enjoy the green lush trees that arched over the meandering road.

  “Please, can we never go home?” Brian sighed. He was joking, but he was not. Silently, his mother and grandmother felt much the same way. None of them, including Nina, knew that their grandfather had died. Maybe that was for the better. They needed to emerge victorious from one close tragedy to overcome the truth that waited for them.

  32

  Londale Street

  After spending the night at James Willard’s home, Purdue had one of his helicopters brought to Glasgow, from where they would travel south to the Isle of Arran. According to the map on the scabbard, that was where Ronald Hall’s relative received Excalibur with instructions where to hide it. The trip would take no longer than four or five hours, given or take, depending on the weather. The Long Ranger was strong enough to withstand most weather, but turbulence was a big factor, given the lower altitude at which they would fly. Landscape and wind conditions fluctuated considerably, which could delay or deter flight time.

  “Why could you not get one of your private jets?” Ava asked Purdue. “We could sip champagne and watch a movie.”

  He stared at her, amazed at the ridiculous question. Sam just chuckled, while he lugged their backpacks out to the Jeep with Kostas. Being a traitorous bitch, he hardly wished to answer her, but he had an opportunity to be condescending. “Have you been to the Isle of Arran?”

  “No,” she replied.

  “Obviously. This is not a trip to Las Vegas. It is not about luxury. There are no airstrips on the island, Ava. Therefore, we will be traveling by helicopter. Please feel free to stay here with Mr. Willard if the transport is too rustic for you,” Purdue explained with a snide smirk. Had he known that she gave Bernard orders to kill Nina, he would have thrown her from the heights and watched her hit the rocks. Ava said nothing. She just pouted and relished in the fact that Purdue’s paramour was now a no more.

  “Please do make it swift,” Willard suggested. “The sooner you find Excalibur, the sooner this hunt will be over and we can all go on with our lives.”

  “As if,” Sam scoffed. He looked at Ava. “I look forward to receiving Nina back from your brother.”

  “I bet you do,” she sneered.

  The thought of their faces at the sight of Nina’s dead body excited Ava, but it was a secret she had to keep for now. By the time they would bring back Excalibur, her brother would be out of the picture as well. Once Willard discovered that she had orchestrated his demise at the hands of Major Rian, she will have made off with the legendary relic already. Obviously, Purdue and Sam would use their clandestine method to destroy Major Rian for his hand in killing the Callany’s and Nina. She could take the hard feelings during this trip, considering the rewards it would all bring.

  Sam got real close to the beautiful Ava. With his chest against her back, he pressed her body against the car, breathing into her neck. He whispered, “Do not neglect to take note, Ava, that you might just be in the same boat as Nina. If anything had to happen to that oaf, Kostas, you will be alone with Purdue and I, and in much the same compromising position.”

  “Oh please, Sam. Your threats only arouse me,” she purred.

  He glanced at Purdue. The two men engaged in their private unspoken language again.

  “I will hold off Major Rian until you return, Ava, so do not fret about it, okay?” Mr. Willard assured her. In her head she laughed as she hugged the school principal and gave him a goodbye peck on the forehead.

  “How sweet,” Sam said. “Can we go and get that cursed sword now?”

  They left in Purdue’s heavily laden Jeep, equipped for a three-day excursion to locate the sword and exchange it for Nina. Kostas and Sam took the backseat, while Ava took Purdue’s side. With small talk and minor friction, they travelled to Glasgow Airport, where Purdue’s people had brought his helicopter and left it for collection.

  “According to the map, our first stop would be the castle in Brodick,” Purdue said, addressing Sam, mainly. “Off the gardens there is a channel we have to follow to that strange formation on the map, I think.”

  “So, some trespassing and stealing a row boat?” Sam asked.

  “Something like that,” Purdue affirmed. “It is shaped like a shield.”

  “And is that where the sword is?” Ava asked.

  “No, you will see on the shield symbol there is a key,” Purdue replied. “We must retrieve that key and then proceed to the other side of the island.”

  “Thank God we have a helicopter,” Sam sighed. “I cannot begin to imagine how long it would have taken us to hike over all the mountains to get to the west side.”

  “Amen,” Purdue agreed, laughing at Sam’s humorous over-exaggeration. In truth, the other side of the island was a twenty-minute drive from the castle grounds, but their uninvited accomplices did not know this.

  Back at Londale Street, two inconspicuous looking sedans pulled up. It was the middle of Saturday, so the likelihood of being identified was high, with everyone out and about. Mr. Willard was making tea and getting ready to watch a documentary on the Nephilim on the History Channel. Five men got out, dressed in casual clothes. Two of them carried cooler boxes, as to sell the charade of a group of blokes coming to watch a football match with James Willard. Having had a good look at the house and yard structure via satellite, they knew where to go. Major Rian’s men briefly swept the yard area to make sure that there were no witnesses or possible interference.

  The impressive yard was very private, giving the assassins a perfect opportunity, however, there was an anomaly. “Where are the others?” one of the men asked.

  “Probably inside,” the team leader guessed. “They are scheduled to leave in thirty minutes from now.”

  “Only one car in the drive, belonging to Willard,” another man reported. “You think the other one is in the garage?”

  “Go check,” the leader said. “Make sure.”

  Two men went round the front to enter the garage, expertly picking the old school lock and handle to gain access. Inside there was another car belonging to Willard’s late wife, which the men mistook as belonging to one of the principal’s guests. “There was a Jeep in the driveway What if it was their vehicle?” one told the other.

  “If they have left, they are lucky, but let us concentrate on Willard first,” his colleague
replied. “After all, he is the prime target. Look, a door into the house.” Not surprisingly, the door was locked, but they could breach such mundane security measures in their sleep. Behind them, the roller door suddenly activated, closing them in. They were unable to wedge it open, but while they labored to pry it open, the vents began to hiss.

  “What is that?” one asked, sniffing and wiping his eyes.

  A powerful cloud of white covered them within a few seconds.

  “I think the fucker is gassing us!” the other said. “Did you bring masks?”

  “Why would I? It was a straight hit,” his colleague snapped, holding his gun up at him.

  “Fuck! Cover your mouth and nose,” the other urged, but it was too late. Their bodies began to convulse as they asphyxiated slowly, dropping to the ground.

  Around the back of the house, the other three men quietly unlocked what they thought was the back door. It was, in fact, a false entrance to the Willard residence, merely leading them into a separate room, a closed up porch.

  “There,” one whispered, pointing at an interior door that led to the kitchen. “The actual back door that goes through to the house.”

  “Close the exterior door behind you, in case someone looks over the fence,” the leader said. As they closed the door, the sound of an automatic lock caged them in. From the other side of the door, they heard Willard whistling merrily in the kitchen, a repetitive and annoying old tune.

  The leader switched on his flashlight to pick the lock of the interior door, having no idea that Willard’s natural security system was closing in on him and his men. A low growl ensued from the dark. He swung his flashlight to investigate, and his beam fell right on the grimacing face of a hideous thing.