by P. W. Child
“Thanks, love,” he replied softly into her hair, giving her a kiss on the top of her head before letting her go. “Now,” he cheered, clapping his hands together and wringing them, “shall we have a bit of a celebration before I tell you what comes next?”
“Aye,” Nina smiled, “but I’m not sure I can wait to hear what’s next. After all these years in your company, I’ve quite come to loathe surprises.”
“I do understand,” he conceded as he waited for her to enter the manor’s front doors first. “But I assure you, it is safe, under the scrutiny of the Ethiopian government and the ACU, and perfectly legal.”
“For once,” Sam teased.
“How dare you, sir?” Purdue joked with Sam, dragging the journalist into the lobby by his collar.
“Hello Charles.” Nina smiled at the ever-loyal butler who was already setting the table in the drawing room for them to have their private assembly.
“Madam,” Charles nodded courteously. “Mr. Cleave.”
“Greetings, my good man,” Sam greeted cordially. “Has Special Agent Smith left yet?”
“No, sir. In fact, he’s just gone to the restroom and will join you presently,” Charles said before leaving the room hurriedly.
“He’s a bit tired, poor lad,” Purdue explained, “having had to cater to this crowd of intruders for so long. I gave him tomorrow and Tuesday off. After all, in my absence there would be very little to do for him apart from the dailies, you know?”
“Aye,” Sam agreed. “But I hope Lillian is on duty until we come back. I’ve already charmed her into keeping an apricot strudel pudding ready for me when we return.”
“From where?” Nina asked, feeling terribly left out, once more.
“Well, that is the other reason why I asked you two to come over, Nina. Have a seat please, and I’ll pour you a bourbon,” Purdue said. Sam was pleased to see him so cheerful again, almost as suave and confident as he used to be. Then again, Sam supposed, reprieve from the prospect of prison would make a man celebratory of the smallest matters. Nina sat down, slipping a hand under the brandy glass Purdue poured the Southern Comfort in for her.
The fact that it was morning in no way altered the dark room’s ambience. Tall windows bore lavish green drapes that grazed the thick brown carpet, the tones giving the palatial room an earthy feel. From the narrow slits of lace between the open curtains the morning light tried to illuminate the furniture, but failed in painting anything more than the immediate carpet with light. Outside the clouds were typically heavy and dark, stealing the power of any sun that could have delivered a proper semblance of day.
“What is that playing?” Sam asked nobody in particular as a familiar tune floated inside the house, coming from somewhere near the kitchen.
“Lillian, on duty, as is your preference,” Purdue chuckled. “I allow her to play her music while she cooks, but I have no idea what it is, exactly. As long as it’s not too intrusive on the rest of the staff I don’t mind a bit of atmosphere about the front of the house.”
“Nice. I like it,” Nina remarked as she softly placed the brim of the crystal to her bottom lip, careful not to stain it with lipstick. “So, when am I going to hear about our new mission?”
Purdue smiled, surrendering to Nina’s curiosity and that which Sam did also not yet know. He put down his glass and rubbed his palms together. “It is quite simple, and it will absolve me from all my sins in the eyes of the governments involved while ridding me of the relic that caused me all this trouble.”
“The fake Ark?” Nina asked.
“Correct,” Purdue affirmed. “It is part of my deal with the Archaeological Crimes Unit and Ethiopia’s high commissioner, a history lover called Col. Basil Yimenu, that I return their religious relic…”
Nina’s mouth opened to justify her frown, but Purdue knew what she was going to say and presently mentioned what perplexed her. “…Fake as it may be, to its rightful place in the mountain outside the village, the site from where I removed it.”
“They are this protective of an artifact they know is not the true Ark of the Covenant?” Sam asked, voicing Nina’s precise inquiry.
“Yes, Sam. To them it is still an ancient relic of great value, whether it contains the power of God or not. I understand that, so I’ll take it back.” He shrugged. “We don’t need it. We got what we wanted from it when we searched for the Vault of Hercules, did we not? I mean, there is not much more contained in this Ark of any use to us. It taught us about the sick experiments on children performed by the SS in the Second World War, but it’s hardly worth keeping anymore.”
“What do they think it is? Are they still convinced it is a holy box?” Nina asked.
“Special Agent!” Sam announced Patrick’s entrance into the room.
Patrick smiled coyly. “Shut it, Sam.” He took his place next to Purdue and accepted a brew from the recently liberated host. “Thank you, David.”
Oddly, no glances passed between Purdue and Sam regarding the fact that the other two carried no knowledge about the true identity of MI6’s Joe Carter. That was how discreet they were about keeping their secret doings to themselves. Only Nina’s female intuition occasionally challenged this clandestine business, but she could not put her finger on it.
“Right,” Purdue started again, “Patrick, along with my legal team, has drawn up legal documents to facilitate the excursion to Ethiopia to return their holy box while under supervision of MI6. You know, just to make sure I don’t collect intelligence for another country and such.”
Sam and Nina had to giggle about Purdue’s mocking of the matter, but Patrick was weary and just wanted to get it all done with so that he could return to Scotland. “I was assured that this would not take longer than a week,” he reminded Purdue.
“You’re coming with us?” Sam gasped sincerely.
Patrick looked both amused and a bit taken aback. “Aye, Sam. Why? Are you planning such ill conduct that a babysitter is out of the question? Or don’t you trust your best friend not to shoot you in the ass?”
Nina snickered to lighten the mood, but it was evident that there was a bit too much tension in the room. She looked at Purdue, who, in turn, boasted the most angelic innocence a scoundrel could manage. His eyes did not meet hers, but he was very aware of her eyes on him.
What is Purdue keeping from me? What is he keeping from me that he is, again, letting Sam into? she wondered.
“No, no. Nothing like that,” Sam denied. “I just don’t want you to be in danger, Paddy. The very reason all this shit happened between us in the first place was because the stuff Purdue, Nina, and I were into placed you and your family in danger.”
Wow, I almost believe him. Nina criticized Sam’s explanation in the sanctuary of her mind, convinced that Sam had other intentions for keeping Paddy away. He seemed deeply serious, though, and still Purdue kept an even, expressionless face where he sat nursing his drink.
“I appreciate that, Sam, but you see, I’m not going because I don’t trust you lot,” Patrick revealed with a laborious sigh. “I’m not even going to crash your party or to spy on you. Truth is…I have to go. My orders are clear and I have to abide by them, unless I want to lose my job.”
“Wait, so you’re under command to come, regardless?” Nina asked.
Patrick nodded.
“Jesus,” Sam said, shaking his head. “What asshole is making you go, Paddy?”
“Who do you think, old boy?” Patrick asked indifferently, having accepted his fate.
“Joe Carter,” Purdue stated firmly, as his eyes stared out into space, his lips hardly moving to form the dreaded Karsten’s English name.
Sam felt his legs numbing in his jeans. He could not decide if he was worried or furious for the decision to send Patrick out on an expedition. His dark eyes blazed as he asked, “An expedition into the desert to put an item back in the sandbox it came from is hardly a task for a high ranking officer of Military Intelligence, don’t you think?”
> Patrick gave him the old look he gave Sam when they were side by side in the principal’s office awaiting some sort of punishment. “That’s just what I thought, Sam. I dare say including me in this mission is almost…deliberate.”
16
Demons Don’t Die
Charles was absent while the group had their brunch, discussing what was to be a quick trip to finally help Purdue complete his legal penance and to finally rid Ethiopia of Purdue.
“Oh, you have to taste it to appreciate this particular cultivar,” Purdue told Patrick, but included Sam and Nina in on the conversation. They were exchanging information on good wines and brandies to pass the time while enjoying the delicious light meal Lillian had prepared for them. She was elated to see her boss laughing and teasing again, being among his most trusted allies and being his old flamboyant self.
“Charles!” he called. After a brief moment, he called again and rang the bell, but Charles did not answer. “Wait, I’ll go and get a bottle,” he suggested and got up to go to the wine cellar. Nina could not process how lank and gaunt he looked now. Before he was a tall and lean man, but his recent weight loss during his ordeal in Fallin had left him looking even taller and a lot more fragile.
“I’ll come with you, David,” Patrick proposed. “I don’t like that Charles is not answering, if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t be daft, Patrick,” Purdue smiled. “Wrichtishousis is sound enough to avoid unwanted guests. Besides, instead of using a security company I have decided to hire private security at my gates. They do not answer to any paycheck but those signed by yours truly.”
“Good thinking,” Sam approved.
“And I’ll be back shortly to show off this obscenely expensive bottle of liquid majesty,” Purdue bragged with some reservation.
“And we will be allowed to open it?” Nina teased him. “Because it is pointless to boast things one cannot verify, you understand.”
Purdue smiled proudly, “Oh, Dr. Gould, I look forward to bantering with you over historical relics while watching your inebriated mind spin.” And with that, he hastily left the room and proceeded down to the cellar past his laboratories. He did not want to admit it this soon after having reclaimed his domain, but Purdue was also concerned about the absence of his butler. He mainly used the brandy as an excuse to part from the others in the pursuit of Charles’ reason for abandoning them.
“Lily, have you seen Charles?” he asked his housekeeper and cook.
She turned from the fridge to look at his exhausted expression. Wringing her hands inside the dishcloth she was using, she smiled reluctantly. “Yes, sir. Special Agent Smith requested that Charles pick up your other guest from the airport.”
“My other guest?” Purdue said after her. He was hoping that he had not forgotten an important engagement.
“Yes, Mr. Purdue,” she affirmed. “Charles and Mr. Smith had arranged for him to join you?” Lily sounded a bit worried, more so because she was uncertain about Purdue’s knowledge of the guest. To Purdue it looked as if she was questioning his sanity to have forgotten about something he was not privy to in the first place.
Purdue tapped his fingers in order against the doorframe for a moment to think. It was better, he reckoned, to play open cards with the adorable, plump Lily who thought the world of him. “Um, Lily, did I summon this guest? Am I losing my marbles?”
Suddenly it was all clear to Lily, and she laughed sweetly. “No! Gosh, no, Mr. Purdue, you did not know about this at all. Don’t fret, you’ve not lost your mind yet.”
Relieved, Purdue sighed, “Thank God!” and laughed with her. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know his name, sir, but apparently he offered to assist with your next expedition.” she said timidly.
“Free of charge?” he jested.
Lily chuckled, “I certainly hope so, sir.”
“Thank you, Lily,” he said and disappeared before she could answer. Lily smiled in the midday breeze that blew in through the open window by the fridges and freezers where she was packing rations. Softly she said, “It is grand to have you back, my good man.”
As Purdue passed his labs, he felt nostalgic, but hopeful. Descending below the ground floor of his main hallway, he skipped down the concrete stairwell. It led to the sub-basement where the laboratories lay dark and quiet. Purdue felt a twinge of misplaced fury for the audacity of Joseph Karsten to have claimed his home to violate his privacy, to seek out his patented technology and his forensic research as if it was only there at the ready for his scrutiny.
He did not bother with the large, strong ceiling lights, only switching on the main light at the entrance of the small corridor. Walking past the dark squares of the laboratory door glass, he reminisced about the golden days before things got nasty, political, and dangerous. Inside he could still imagine hearing his freelance anthropologists, scientists, and interns chatting, arguing about compounds and theories to the tune of running servers and intercoolers. It made him smile, even though his heart ached for those days to return. Now that he was deemed a criminal by most and his reputation was not favorable to use on resumes anymore, he felt that getting elite scientists to work for him was an act in futility.
“It will take time, old boy,” he told himself. “Just be patient, for God’s sake.”
His tall frame sauntered to the left corridor, the sinking concrete ramp feeling sturdy under his feet. It was concrete poured many ages ago by masons long gone. It was home, and it made him feel a great sense of belonging, more than ever before.
As he strolled past the inconspicuous door of a storeroom his heart quickened pace and a tingle crawled down his back into his legs. Purdue smiled as he passed the old iron door that blended into the wall by color and texture, knocking twice on it as he went. Finally, the musty smell of the sub-basement’s sunken cellar struck his nostrils. It cheered Purdue a great deal to dwell alone down here again, but he hurried to retrieve the bottle of Crimean wine from the 1930s to share with his party.
Charles kept the cellar relatively spotless, the bottles dusted and turned, but other than that Purdue had instructed the diligent butler to leave the rest of the chamber as it was. After all, it could not be a decent wine cellar if it did not look just a wee bit abandoned and dilapidated. For his brief reminiscence of pleasant things, Purdue had to pay, by the rules of the cruel Universe, and soon his thoughts crept in another direction.
The wall of the cellar resembled the walls of the oubliette where he was kept by the tyrannical bitch from the Black Sun before she herself came to a fitting end. Much as he reminded himself that that dreadful chapter in his life was closed, he could not help but feel the walls closing in on him.
“No, no, it is not real,” he whispered. “It’s just your mind recognizing your traumatic experiences in the form of a phobia.”
Still, Purdue felt unable to move as his eyes lied to him. With the bottle in his hand and the open door lying just ahead of him, he felt the hopelessness grip his soul. Trapped in place, Purdue could not take a single step and his heart throbbed rapidly in its fight against his mind. “My God, what is this?” he shrieked, holding his brow with his free hand.
Everything closed in on him, no matter how he fought the images with his clear sense of reality and psychology. Groaning, he closed his eyes in a desperate attempt to convince his psyche that he was not back in the oubliette. Suddenly a hand gripped him tightly and jerked at his arm, scaring Purdue into a sober terror. Instantly his eyes snapped open and his mind cleared.
“Jesus, Purdue, we thought you had been swallowed up by a portal or something,” Nina said, still holding his wrist.
“Oh my God, Nina!” he cried, stretching his light blue eyes wide open to make sure that he stayed in reality. “I don’t know what just happened to me. I…I-I s-saw the oubliette…Christ! I’m losing my mind!”
He fell against Nina and she wrapped her arms around him as he panted hysterically. She took the bottle from him and placed it on the ta
ble behind her, not moving an inch from where she cradled Purdue’s thin and battered physique. “It’s alright, Purdue,” she whispered. “I know that feeling all too well. Phobias are usually born from one traumatic experience. That’s all we need to lose our minds, believe me. Just know that it’s the trauma of your ordeal and not your sanity crumbling. As long as you remember that, you’ll be fine.”
“Is this how you feel every time we shove you into a confined space for our own gain?” he asked softly, gasping for air next to Nina’s ear.
“Aye,” she admitted. “But don’t make it sound so cruel. Before Deep Sea One and the submarine, I would completely lose my marbles every time I was forced to be in a cramped space. Since working with you and Sam,” she smiled and pushed him away slightly to look him in the eye, “I’ve been forced to confront my claustrophobia so many times, having to face it or get everyone killed, that in essence you two maniacs have helped me cope better with it.”
Purdue looked around and felt the panic subside. He took a deep breath and ran a caring hand over Nina’s head, curling her locks in his fingers. “What would I do without you, Dr. Gould?”
“Well, for one thing, you’d be leaving your expedition party in solemn wait for ages,” she coaxed. “So, let us not keep everyone waiting.”
“Everyone?” he asked curiously.
“Yes, your guest arrived a few minutes ago with Charles,” she smiled.
“Does he have a gun?” he teased.
“I’m not sure,” Nina played. “He might just. At least then our preparations will not be boring.”
Sam called down to them from the side of the laboratories. “Come on,” Nina winked, “let’s get back up there before they think we’re up to something lewd.”
“Are you sure that would be a bad thing?” Purdue flirted.
“Hey!” Sam called from the first corridor. “Am I to expect some, uh, grape-stomping going on down there?”