by CW Hawes
“This was while you were asleep just now?”
“Yes. Although it seems like that is the real world and this the dream world. At least when I first wake up. Or…”
“What, Dru?”
I swallowed and looked Karl in the eyes. “Or when I first go to sleep it is as though I’m waking up.”
He took my hand. “I don’t want you wearing that thing anymore, Dru. There is something unwholesome about it.”
“How can you say that, Karl, it saved us.”
“I don’t like what it is doing to you.”
I nodded, although I knew I’d wear the fleece again if I had to. And more and more the voice was telling me I had to.
Thirty-Two
As The World Faded Away
Georgia
Evening
Monday, 26 April 1954
Light rain fell all afternoon and into the evening. We’d pitched camp in the lee of a couple hills, nevertheless we were miserably cold and wet. Several fires were burning and we were huddled around them.
All the while, Branson tried to hail the Argo on the radio without success. He’d hoped to arrange a pickup before sunset. Once we were aboard the Argo, the Pinkerton men, Malz, and his staff would head to Poti and board the big Boeing seaplane.
Karl, as usual, was making the rounds of the group trying to keep up everyone’s spirits. Dunyasha was with me, smoking her last cigarette in the ivory holder I’d given her.
I was looking forward to the trip home. I was tired. Going home would also mean turning the fleece over to Walter Ramsey Hall, which was something I didn’t want to think about. I was the keeper of the fleece. It was mine. Mine to protect and mine to benefit from. The god had so much as said so. I laughed recalling Kit’s concern and the need for the fleece to be protected. The fleece didn’t need protection. Wearing the fleece, I had the power of the gods at my fingertips. I could conquer the world.
My musing was interrupted by the sound of a plane. A small single engine craft, flying low and slow, was heading towards us. The plane looked to be a small civilian model. I couldn’t distinguish any markings. I watched it approach, as did most everyone else. Several of us were pointing at it.
When the plane reached our camp, it circled our group and dropped small canisters. They hit the ground with a thud and white smoke began pouring out of them. The cry went up of “Gas!” and pandemonium broke out amongst us.
Someone started shooting. The plane flew off. Everyone was running around like a horse with its tail on fire. We were surrounded by a ring of what I guessed to be tear gas. Thank God the rain was falling. The whitish clouds held low to the ground and were dissipating under the impact of the rain drops.
A whump-whump sound was growing in intensity. Helicopters. I looked up and saw four of them coming in. We were ringed in by gas and the helicopters were going to seal the ring.
Dunyasha jumped up. “Run, Dru! Get the hell out of here.” She took off, heading for the gas clouds.
I watched her run and was puzzled by her panic. I had the fleece. I had the power of the gods. I would save us as I had before.
The helicopters landed. I knew what they wanted and who they were looking for. I opened the satchel. Czarist partisans in gas masks poured out of the aircraft. The fleece radiated its golden glow. I took it out of the bag and four hands grabbed me.
“Ah, Lady Hurley-Drummond, say farewell to the fleece.”
I looked up and there, before me, was Count Neratoff. Complete with his thin little smile.
He took hold of the fleece and I pulled back.
“The fleece is no longer yours. Let go,” he commanded.
“No. I’ll die first.”
“I wish you hadn’t said that.”
Neratoff dropped the gas mask, pulled out a pistol, pointed it at me, and fired. The bullet hit the right side of my chest. I gasped. The pain was excruciating. He pulled the fleece out of my hands, said something in Russian, and the two partisans let go of me. I sank to the ground on my knees, clutching my chest.
Dunyasha, who was some distance away, was screaming and running towards me. She was firing her Luger. A partisan raised his carbine, I croaked a barely audible “no”, and heard the carbine’s report. Dunyasha flew backwards, looking as though someone had pulled a rug out from under her. Tears rolled down my cheeks, I croaked out her name, and collapsed on the wet ground.
Neratoff was calling out something in Russian. I lifted my head and saw him and the two partisans head for a helicopter. I heard my name. Karl’s voice.
He rolled me on my back. “Oh, my God, Dru. Your guns.”
“My back,” I whispered.
He turned me partially over and withdrew the Colt from the holster in the small of my back. Karl aimed and fired. Then a second and a third time I heard the report of the revolver. I heard a machine gun fire. Then the whine of the helicopter engines.
Karl pulled me up to a sitting position and held me. I felt myself fading.
“I love you, Karl,” I said.
He was doing his best not to cry, but it wasn’t working.
The helicopters were starting to take off. Suddenly the already grey sky darkened and from over the hill came a behemoth. The Argo! Admiral Rosendahl had found us. I heard the machine gun in the Argo’s bow firing and, as the world faded away, I heard a crash.
Thirty-Three
The Remnant Heads Home
Over the Black Sea
Night
Monday, 26 April 1954
I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in an immense hall that looked to be made of marble. Next to me was Poseidon. He was holding my hand and stroking my brow. I lifted my other hand and hesitantly touched his cheek. He smiled and leaned down, placing his lips against mine. He kissed me. His breath was warm and filled me with life.
He began speaking to me. “My dearest Theophane, the Fates have not cut your thread. Now is not your time. I cannot tell you how many days there are remaining to you. Not even the gods possess such knowledge. However, if you live each one fully then whatever you have will be enough. Enjoy them. Hades will come to claim you soon. All too soon.”
“My friend, did she die?”
“No. Now is not her time either.”
“My other friend?”
“He is well. He is a conflicted and tormented soul. He is a man with too great a sense of duty.”
Relief flooded me.
“Close your eyes, my precious one, and let me gaze upon my Theophane in the beauty of her slumber.”
“Don’t go,” I said.
“I am here, with you. Do not fear.”
He kissed me again and sleep took me away.
When I woke, I found myself in my cabin on the Argo. One wall light was on. Dunyasha was sitting next to me.
“You’re awake,” she said. “We were beginning to worry the fleece hadn’t worked its magic on you.”
“I had a strange dream. I was somewhere. A great hall and I was with Poseidon.”
“Might as well dream big if you’re going to dream at all.”
I smiled. “He calls me ‘Theophane’.”
“Calls you? He’s done this before?”
“Yes. Every time I wear the fleece.”
“Lucky you to be the chosen playmate of a god.”
“It’s just a dream.”
“You make it sound real.”
“It seems so real when I’m there. That life, being with Poseidon, is reality and this is all a dream.”
Dunyasha was quiet. I didn’t say anything, either. Just lay there and looked at her. She was alive, just as Poseidon had said.
She finally spoke. “Look. Are you going to lie here all night?”
“Is everyone else…?”
“We survivors are fine.”
“Did anymore…?”
“On our side? No. On their side? They lost a few. Including Neratoff. At least, his helicopter was shot down by the Argo. We retrieved the fleece. Branson, actually. That’
s why you, I, and one of the Pinkerton men are alive.”
“Did Branson see Neratoff’s body?”
“He wasn’t specifically looking for it. He said he doubted anyone was alive.”
I nodded.
“Now, do you want to dress?”
“Probably a good idea. I’ll go to the WC first.”
“Klara gave you a sponge bath.”
“She’s a gem. Kit is one very lucky man.”
I got up, visited the WC, and returned to my cabin. Dunyasha had turned on a couple more lights. I put on a mid-calf length skirt, with pleats in the back from the knees to the hemline; a white blouse; a jacket matching the skirt; and a string of pearls.
Dunyasha and I walked out to the lounge together. She entered first and announced me.
Everyone applauded. Karl stood and everyone followed. I took a seat at Karl’s table. Dunyasha sat with us.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Over the Black Sea,” Karl said.
I looked at my watch. “The time is nine at night?”
“It is,” Karl replied.
“I remember Argo appearing over that hill, the machine gun firing and a crash.”
Karl explained, “Neratoff must’ve had people watching us. Damn clever of him to ring us in like that. He knew where you were and landed close to you.”
“And shot me when I wouldn’t let go of the fleece.”
“Yes. You’d lost a lot of blood by the time we got the fleece to you. Lady Bo–”
“For God’s sake, Karl, call me ‘Dunyasha’.”
I quipped, “He will insist on black tie for his funeral.”
Karl smiled. “Very well. Dunyasha was worse than you and I had her healed first.”
I took her hand in mine and said, “Thank you, Karl.”
He continued, “You were touch and go. Even after the fleece healed you, you continued sleeping. Almost as though you were in a coma.”
“She was cavorting with Poseidon,” Dunyasha said.
Karl raised an eyebrow.
“I was dreaming,” I said.
Karl continued, “After Neratoff got the fleece, he took it to his helicopter. Branson and I shot at him and his thugs. One of them fell. I don’t think we hit Neratoff, though. As the helicopter was taking off, the Argo arrived with machine gun blazing. Neratoff’s helicopter was maybe seventy feet in the air when it was hit.”
Branson joined us. “Argo shot away one of the rotors. The helicopter rolled over and crashed. I ran to it and retrieved the fleece. No one on board was moving and to be honest, I didn’t care. There were wounded who needed help.”
Mr Ransome appeared and asked if anyone wanted anything. Requests were made for drinks and food. He then disappeared through the door into the forward part of the gondola.
“So Neratoff may be alive,” I said.
“I suppose it’s possible,” Branson said. “Given the condition of the helicopter, I doubt it.”
The stewards brought our food and drink. Before we ate, Karl asked if we’d pause for a moment of silence to remember our comrades who were not with us, which we did. We ate mostly in silence. Tension between Elise Rodman and Mafeking was apparent. It looks as though she isn’t forgiving him for killing Franzen. Love does strange things to our thinking. Franzen was going to leave her and yet she clings to him.
I still didn’t trust Mafeking. He wasn’t a spy, just another agent of Mr Hall. One who would probably sell his grandmother if the price was right. Which meant the fleece wasn’t safe until it was in Mr Hall’s hands. I asked where it was.
Branson said, “It is locked in a storage locker. Only Karl has the key and two sailors are on guard round the clock.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if it was in someone’s actual possession?” I asked.
Dunyasha said, “She’s missing her lover boy.”
“It’s too dangerous, Dru,” Karl said. “I have half a mind to dump the thing in the ocean.”
“Why don’t you?” Dunyasha asked.
“Because I promised Mr Hall and I’m a man of my word,” Karl replied.
“Accidents happen,” Branson said.
Now that surprised me. Branson was apparently close to Mr Hall and yet he wanted to get rid of the fleece?
“They do,” Karl said, “but not on my watch.”
I was well acquainted with Karl’s sense of duty. It was why we were lovers and not husband and wife. Come hell or high water, he’d get that ram’s skin to Hall.
“That’s the nature of accidents, though, Mr Weidner,” Branson said, “they just happen.” He paused and then with a smile said, “Accidentally.”
Karl repeated, “Not on my watch.”
Branson shrugged and sipped his drink.
When we were finished eating, the stewards cleared away the plates, and when the tables were cleared, Admiral Rosendahl spoke to us.
“You have accomplished your mission. I deeply regret and am very sorry for those who died in the line of duty. Hopefully their loss will not have been in vain. We are now on our way back to the States. I’m sorry, Mr Smith, I cannot detour to Britain.”
“Quite alright, Admiral, there are plenty of ways to get back to Britain from the States.”
Rosendahl continued, “That there are, Mr Smith. We will be making all possible speed to America. No stops. At least no planned stops. We have extra fuel on board. I wish you well. Mr Hall himself radioed his thanks and will thank each one of you in person when we arrive home. Are there any questions?”
There weren’t any and he returned to the bridge.
Soon after Rosendahl left, Kit and Klara excused themselves, followed by Doctor Rodman. The rest of us chatted for a bit, then Mafeking, Sax, and Milano retired for the night and Branson excused himself saying there were a few things he needed to check on. Karl, Dunyasha, and I were left in the lounge. I got up and walked to the windows. My friends joined me.
Below us was the Black Sea, invisible in the blackness of the night.
Dunyasha, looking out the window, said, “We’re not done with this and even if we evade the German and Italian aircraft on the way home, once we get there our own government becomes our enemy.”
Thirty-Four
Who Gets The Fleece?
Over the Mediterranean
Night
Tuesday, 27 April 1954
The day was quiet. We were all quite subdued. One would think going home we’d be jubilant. However, the trauma we’d all experienced put a damper on any feelings of jubilation we might have had. Elise Rodman spent most of her time in her cabin. Sax and Milano spent a large part of the day drinking and by supper were thoroughly in their cups. Klara and Kit were in a corner by themselves, I think very thankful they were both still alive. Mafeking, Branson, Karl, Dunyasha, and I sat together. We did little talking. We did a fair amount of drinking ourselves, played some cards, and spent a good portion of the day absorbed in our own thoughts. More than the others I found I was hungry and stuffed myself with sandwiches and my chocolates, which I had left on the Argo for safe keeping. At one point, Dunyasha quipped I must have done more than talk to Poseidon and maybe I was eating for two. My mouth stuffed with chocolate, I made a face at her. That drew chuckles from everyone at the table.
For a time in the afternoon, I stood at the window looking at the Mediterranean. We were flying no more than a hundred and fifty feet above the surface of the water and probably more like a hundred. Karl stood next to me. After a time he spoke.
“Dru, I must admit I was scared. Scared I would find, when this expedition was over, that I would be going home without you. It was a thought I must also admit I found difficult to bear.”
I looked at him and said nothing.
“I love you, Dru Drummond. Maybe more than I thought I did. I, I don’t want to live without you, Dru. Perhaps I need to end my marriage. It certainly doesn’t benefit me and it is a hindrance to us.”
“And Ilene?”
“I’m wondering i
f my staying married to her is simply enabling her. Allowing her to live in a world of make believe. Perhaps if we divorced, she’d have to face reality.”
“And if she didn’t? Didn’t face reality?”
“I’d be no worse off than I am now. On any given day, I might have to have her committed. But if she is committed now, then we won’t be able to marry because I won’t be able to divorce her. We’d have to wait until she died, which is what we’re doing now. Coming so close to losing you, Dru, first last year to Turbanev and now on this venture to death, I know one thing and that is I don’t want to lose you. I want to share my life with you every day for all the days remaining to us. I no longer want to be apart from you. Ever.”
Karl is not effusive. Yet here he was, pouring his heart out to me. I admit it, I wanted to hear him say what he was saying. I have no desire to wish ill to Ilene. I don’t. If our situations were reversed, I’d hate her. And I suppose she does in fact hate me. Yet I can’t give Karl up. He is my soulmate. He is the one who makes me feel alive. After Mikhail, I resigned myself to having Karl part-time and I thought Karl had done the same. Death, though, has a way of changing perspective. Apparently the possibility of my very real demise shook Karl to the core. Shook him enough for him to seriously entertain divorcing his wife.
I touched his cheek and he covered my hand with his. “Thank you for loving me, Karl. If Ilene did anything to herself, I don’t know if I could bear it; knowing that I was the cause. Let us say no more about this. I want you. You know I do. I will support whatever your decision is. Now, though, is not the time to make such a major decision. Let us get back to the States and decide then.” I took my hand away and turned back to looking at the sea.
“Very well, Dru.”
“I love you, Karl. I want to be your wife. We are in a sticky situation and a path will open for us. I just don’t want there to be unnecessary hurt.”