The Crypt

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The Crypt Page 12

by Saul, Jonas


  “So you weren’t fucking around? We’re really going to this Montone city to look for a guy named Tony Soprano?”

  “When do you know me to fuck around? Now focus, we need a car.”

  Parkman gestured toward the terminal. “Let’s just go in and rent one.”

  “We can’t because your name would be on it. We need them to think we’re on our way to New York.”

  Sarah headed for the parking area of the terminal. It was after five in the morning. The sun had risen enough to cover the area in sharp reflections off the roofs of the parked cars, causing her to squint her eyes.

  Doubt entered her thoughts as she walked. Could she steal a car and cross international borders? The owner of the vehicle could arrive back on any flight, report the vehicle stolen and once the plate numbers were sent out to all police agencies Sarah and Parkman would be on the run for entirely different reasons. And would Parkman take part in such a crime?

  “Sarah?”

  She kept walking.

  “Sarah?” Parkman said louder.

  Frustrated by how everything was so fucked up she turned to Parkman and almost opened her mouth to shout. Instead she just stared at him and waited.

  “We can’t steal a car.”

  She waited some more, afraid of where this was heading. Something else was bothering her. She always worked alone. Or with Vivian. Teaming up with a cop was never her plan. Having him around couldn’t really hurt but she couldn’t think straight with him schooling her on what she can and cannot do.

  “We can’t fly either,” Parkman added.

  “Are you done telling us what we can’t do? I already know this shit.”

  Parkman turned a little to avoid the direct rays of the sun. “But we can take the train.”

  “The train?”

  Parkman nodded. “Yes, the train.”

  Sarah crossed her arms. “What about border crossings? Italy is through Germany and possibly another country. Passports too. They will record our names and everyone hunting us will see the bullseye we just placed on our train car.”

  Parkman was shaking his head no. “Follow me,” he said and turned to walk toward a taxi. “At the train station you buy a ticket and validate that ticket and then get on your train. The trains take you where you want to go and you get off whenever. No one checks.”

  “Border crossings?”

  “That’s old Europe. They have the Schengen Agreement now. You had your passport checked and stamped when you landed in Budapest. You have three months in the Schengen area which includes Germany and Italy.”

  “Hold up,” Sarah said. “Are you saying that we can go to any other country in the Schengen area and no one would know?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Then what stops people like Armond? He could land in Prague and have a car waiting to drive him to anywhere else in Europe and no one would ever know where he was.”

  “This is a problem. One that recently has sparked debate among countries like Denmark who want to go back to border guards so they can at least see who is entering their country. Germany is one of the loudest dissenters of this idea.”

  ***

  The train company was called Rail Europe. Parkman paid cash for two tickets to Bologna, Italy. There was a brief stopover in Germany, but they’d be in Bologna in fourteen hours. They bought a quick breakfast and jumped on the train an hour after buying the tickets. Neither one talked about how every second counted. They were both being hunted by numerous organizations with vast resources. The airport would be scoured and teams would be sent to the bus and train stations. Every second counted but there was really nothing they could do but sit and wait for the train to leave.

  Sarah tied her hair up and leaned back in her seat, watching the train station’s platform for anyone acting suspicious. Parkman sat beside her, watching the interior of the train.

  Eventually the train started crawling down the track.

  In fairness, Sarah thought, no one would expect them to be traveling by train to Italy.

  The only way their pursuers could be onto them is if the crooked immigration officer told someone what he said to Sarah but she didn’t think he would as that would incriminate him.

  Ten minutes into the trip exhaustion came over her. Sarah fell asleep and only woke at Parkman’s insistence when the train was forty-five minutes out of the city where they would change trains.

  Sarah used the bathroom and splashed water on her face.

  They talked further. Sarah told him about the immigration guy’s confession and what happened to Imre. She told him what she did in the hostel and how she found him, knowing he’d be in the SUV. After a while their conversation was nothing more than idle chat.

  Changing trains was easier than expected and after another seven and a half hours they exited the train in Bologna just after ten in the evening.

  Parkman checked the train schedule and determined they would take a morning train leaving at 8:47am and arrive in Umbertide just over five hours later, after a couple stops where they would need to change trains again. Sarah watched him handle all the details with a sense of peace. It was good to have someone take care of things for her. It had been a long time since she let anyone do anything for her like this. The last time was her parents when she was a teenager.

  It was just as Parkman had said, no one had asked to see their passports and there had been no customs or border control to deal with the whole way. It was nothing like home. To get into Canada or Mexico you needed to clear customs every time. In many cases Sarah had heard people were randomly selected to be pulled over and searched or groped at airports. North America could learn a thing or two from the Europeans.

  In minutes Parkman had read a couple of brochures and had located a hotel for them for the night. He hailed a taxi and got them to Pensione Marconi hotel. On the way Sarah marveled at all the stone architecture. She had never seen so much stone in one place. Ever since they’d entered Italy she’d seen hilltop houses and buildings that had turrets and large walls built into the side of hills. Italy was stunning but she wasn’t here to sight see. Maybe one day if she ever got married she’d come back with her husband to enjoy the sights.

  Marriage? Why am I thinking about that? Because I like when a man takes care of things for me? I’ve never even had a boyfriend.

  She smiled to herself. One day. Maybe one day.

  They stepped into the hotel room. It was basic with two small beds that almost looked like two singles. The room was at the rear of the hotel. She had heard Parkman ask for the rear because of something to do with the street named Via Marconi and how busy it could get.

  Even though she’d slept on the first train, the whole day of traveling had kept her exhausted. She flopped on her bed and closed her eyes.

  “What are we going to do once we get to Montone?” Parkman asked.

  “Find Tony Soprano.”

  “Any plan on how to do that?”

  “Nope.”

  “Sarah, look I’m tired too but we need a plan. We can talk about it in the morning if you want, but I don’t want to show up in Montone and just walk around asking for Tony Soprano.”

  “They’ll know we’re there.”

  She felt Parkman staring at her. After a few moments, he asked, “And how’s that?”

  “Someone as big and powerful as this Soprano guy will have sentries posted. They’ll know the difference between idle tourists and people like us. For all we know they’ll be waiting for us at the front doors of the city. This guy is the ringleader. He’s the money man. The boss. That’s why he uses the Soprano name. He’s the boss. No one gets close to the boss, but we will.”

  “And how’s that? We don’t have any weapons. We don’t have any backup. No disguise and no plan. I’m willing to go along with you here but we really have nothing to go on.”

  “Then the only thing we have left is to be taken by his men and led right to him.”

  “What?”

  She heard Pa
rkman stand up but kept her eyes closed.

  “Unless we’re going in with an army we’ll never get close to this guy,” she said. “We need his own men to lead us to him. Then we make our move.”

  “And what move would that be?”

  “We’ll know it when we see it.”

  “Great.” She heard Parkman sitting down again.

  “Oh, and I need an Internet Cafe tomorrow sometime.”

  “Why?”

  “To do a few minutes of research.”

  “Do I have to pry everything out of you? Research on what?”

  “Vampires.”

  “Vampires?” Parkman said, his voice raised a notch.

  “Vivian sent me a message saying that it all ends in “the crypt” in a few days and that it had to do with “Vampires”. That’s all I know for now.”

  She heard Parkman get up and walk to the door.

  “I’m going to find some food. We haven’t eaten right all day. Do you want anything?”

  “I’ll have whatever you’re having, and get me some panties too.”

  “Panties?”

  Sarah sat up on her elbows and opened her eyes to look at him. “We traveled all day with the same clothes and we didn’t bring our luggage. I will need a change of undies after my shower in the morning before we travel anymore tomorrow.”

  Parkman nodded his head and stepped from the room, closing the door softly behind him.

  Sarah lay back down on the hard Italian mattress and stared at the ceiling. “Vivian, I need you more than ever. Am I on the right path here? How’s everything going to work out? Can you help me with anything for tomorrow?”

  She waited but it didn’t take long. Her arm started to go numb in the same second she reached for the hotel pen and paper on the desk.

  Then she blacked out.

  Chapter 14

  Sarah held the note in her hand with a bewildered look on her face. Who was Drake Bellamy? And where did she hear that name before?

  She reread the note,

  Tell them that Drake Bellamy has retrieved the original documents and you have a copy because you know they are about to silence him at the baseball game in two weeks. You also know about Armond and how he gets his girls through customs. And Sarah, use the fire. Remember to use the fire. The Crypt: less than six days left.

  Drake Bellamy? Baseball game? Fire?

  Not too clear Vivian, Sarah thought. Use what fire? Why is Drake important? And how do I know that name?

  She snapped her fingers when she remembered. While István sat on his neighbor’s toilet he told Sarah that recently their organization had been having problems with some guy in Toronto named Drake Bellamy. Something about a woman killing a bunch of people because the falsified documents this group had produced years ago fell into the wrong hands. That was a threat to a group like this. They couldn’t have a light cast on them. The truth would be hard on the public. To learn that trusted public officials were engaging in importing and exporting people illegally for the right price would shatter the system for years to come.

  Not that humans haven’t done worse things for a dollar. The important fact here was that these were public servants providing a service for a kickback.

  She walked over to the little window and looked across at the other building. Fatigue was setting in. Even her shoulders felt heavy. She leaned against the window frame and wondered what would happen tomorrow. One thing she consoled herself with was Vivian had said things would end in the crypt, which meant it wouldn’t end tomorrow.

  Although there are worse things than dying to consider.

  She turned from the window and lay back on the bed. The whatever it was involving the crypt was supposed to happen in about five days now, putting it on Friday. Where in Europe was she supposed to be for Friday? There were crypts all over the continent. Was it a specific one?

  Oh yeah, one that had a tie-in to vampires somehow. Great.

  With the little knowledge she had of vampires, that would mean Hungary or Romania. After she finished in Italy she would deal with all that. Until then, she needed sleep.

  She was out before Parkman got back with food.

  ***

  Light from the open window, and the sound of Parkman in the shower, woke her. Sarah leaned up and brushed her eyes. The water turned off.

  “Good morning,” she called out.

  “Morning. Coffee’s on the bureau and there’s some leftovers of last night’s pizza if you want some.”

  “Thanks,” Sarah said as she turned, got up and sat on the edge of her bed. She waited a minute and then poured herself a black coffee. It was half gone before Parkman came out of the bathroom. He was already dressed and using his hands to mess with his hair.

  “Did you get me underwear?”

  “Yeah. In that bag. There was nothing available last night but I ran down this morning and found a market two blocks up. I hope the size is right.”

  Sarah reached in the bag and pulled out a small, pink piece of cloth. There was a triangle in the front and a tiny strip of material for the back.

  “You have got to be kidding me?”

  “What?”

  He stopped playing with his hair. She could tell that he actually didn’t get it by the look on his face.

  “This is a thong. I don’t wear thongs.”

  “All the kids wear thongs now. You see it every day when they bend over. It rides up above their pants.”

  “I’m not a kid and I don’t wear thongs. This is pink too. What do you think I am? A little girl?”

  “Sarah,” he reached out, almost pleading. “You should consider being more feminine. Sure it’s pink, but no one will see it unless you let them. If you’re letting them see your underwear, then pink is a good color.”

  “Because I have no other option, I will wear these. But after we leave this place I am going shopping for real clothes.”

  She walked into the bathroom without another word and started the shower.

  In forty five minutes they were back at the train station, sitting on their train heading to Umbertide, Italy. After a large number of stops and a few train changes, they got off the train in Umbertide and started walking toward the piazza, the center of town. The signs said Montone was on the other side of Umbertide.

  Conversation between them was light as they walked past Umbertide and out into the open countryside. It was seriously hot as the Italian sun beat down on them while they walked in the open. Sarah pegged it for about three in the afternoon.

  Too bad she hadn’t considered wearing a hat, she thought.

  “So what’s the plan?” Parkman asked.

  “I don’t have one. I know that sounds risky and stupid but I really don’t know what we’re walking into.”

  “Have you heard from Vivian?”

  She looked over at him. “Yes. Last night.”

  “You going to tell me about it?”

  “She said to use the fire, but I don’t know what that means yet.”

  “Anything else?”

  They hit a round-about and crossed when no one was coming. The road angled out of the fields and started on a slight incline as it rose to the hilltop town.

  “She said to tell these people that Drake Bellamy has the original documents and that I do too. If anything happens to me these documents go public. I’m also supposed to say that I know about their attempted hit on Drake at some baseball game coming up in two weeks. Something like that.”

  “Who is this Drake? Do you know anything else?”

  “That immigration officer, István, in Budapest who I got to confess on tape, he said something about Drake being in Toronto and how people died because of what these immigration people do.”

  “Maybe this Drake guy is important in some way?”

  “He is. Knowing what we know may save our lives today.”

  They hit a switchback in the road and continued climbing. For all their effort in the heat Sarah was starting to feel seriously drained. Her brea
thing was rapid and her mouth was dry. As soon as they got to Montone a large bottle of water was on the menu. No way could she deal with aggressors while she was this thirsty.

  “Well, Sarah, I do have a plan.”

  She could hear him panting a little harder than she was. “What’s your plan, Parkman?”

  “We separate and scout out the area alone. If one of us gets into trouble then we’ll have the other for backup. And now that I know what Vivian said to you, if I’m the one in trouble I’ll know what to say and do. Does that work for you?”

 

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