by P. W. Child
“When he got the special in front of his agent,” Sam smiled. “Hell of a pay raise that was.”
“I’m sure,” Nina agreed. “You know, I would love to know what information Neville has on that gadget, or perhaps on the yeti men that so conveniently disappeared by the time Paddy and Neville got there.”
“I’ll ask Paddy when we get back to Scotland. I wouldn’t mind hearing what he has discovered either. Whatever it is, you might not want to dwell too much on it. That whole incident had you really shaken, darling,” he winked. “And I wanted to offer my personal services to get your mind off it, but your boyfriend was within earshot and I did not want to feel bad for him when you accepted.”
“Oh, shut up, Sam,” Nina giggled, fiddling with her annoying strands of hair that kept fluttering into her eyes. “Besides, the way you two socialize while I am absent has me thinking that he might be your boyfriend more than mine.”
Sam gasped, “You found us out!”
Chapter 21
“You two! Look ahead!” Purdue shouted from the top of the cockpit. They found him pointing toward the rocky escarpment that had now become fully visible. Over the waves.
“I know; I was taking pictures of the lighthouse!” Sam told Purdue.
“What lighthouse?” he asked.
“There is a lighthouse just out of sight toward the right, there!” he shouted back. Purdue seemed extremely interested in the lighthouse for some reason and Sam climbed up to join him atop the cockpit’s roof railing.
“There! You can just see the tip over the rocks, see that?” Sam expounded.
“Ah, yes, there it is,” Purdue said.
“What’s the big deal?” Nina asked from below, looking up at them with her hand shielding her eyes from the sun. “It cannot be a grave, and we are looking for a grave, right?”
“I thought so too, but now I see what the inscription referred to as the white eye. It sounds much like a light beam, doesn’t it? And the grave of Odin—the god with one eye missing—could refer to the one eye of the lighthouse that sees far and wide,” Purdue explained.
Sam and Nina looked at each other. Simultaneously they conceded that Purdue’s theory made a lot of sense.
“I would never have thought of that,” Sam said. “But now that you mention it, it sounds almost definite. How does that tie in with Nina’s Nazi trains though?”
“It doesn’t. But it doesn’t mean both are not correct. My idea might perhaps point us to hers, which is what I think Josef was trying to mark,” Purdue shrugged with a smile beaming with exhilaration. “We are getting closer to that iron horse, kiddos.”
The boat moored in the manmade inlet, allowing its passengers to disembark while it bobbed peacefully on the water like the small specks of other craft on the Gulf of Finland.
“The lighthouse looks like Beetlejuice lives in it,” Nina remarked, evoking a fit of crude laughter from Sam, imitating the character she spoke of.
“It was built after the war, after the Soviet soldiers destroyed the previous one when they evacuated the island,” Purdue lectured.
“Hey, how do you know that? I am the history buff and I did not know that,” Nina whined in jest, but something inside her felt off-kilter, and she could not quite put her finger on it. For a second she thought it was the place, because she felt fine when she stepped onto the island. Now a dreadful feeling took her, portending something bad. After Nina considered what she had been through of late, she blamed the nightmares for her sudden depression. And that was not something she was prepared to share either.
Sam turned her around to look back at the boat. The skipper stood on the deck, having a cigarette. “That’s how he knows—Encyclopedia Finlandia.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Purdue sighed in defeat and dropped his eyes awkwardly. “Shall we get on with it?”
With a lot of jumping and some navigation through puddles in the rocky terrain, they made their way to the tall, lonely lighthouse. Black-and-white horizontal stripes decorated the exterior, like an old prison jumpsuit. A square, concrete building served as the base of the lighthouse, and a decorated niche housed the small access door. Up to where the structure narrowed toward the top, thick and hazed glass spanned the circumference of the tower where the light used to be allowed through at night.
“There, up at the top. Let’s go,” Purdue said enthusiastically, trying the black steel door to gain access to the winding staircase.
“Are we even allowed in there?” Nina asked, trailing Sam and Purdue.
“Probably not,” Sam smiled as Purdue eagerly pried open the door, checking the vicinity for witnesses. This time of year was quiet for tourists and visitors to come, which was a bonus for intruders like Sam and Purdue. Nina was opposed to illegally entering a landmark like this, but she really had no choice in accompanying them. It was far more perilous for her to stay outside alone.
Up the black stairs they raced as quietly as they could. The ascent took a lot more effort than they had initially thought. Narrow steps slowed them and there were plenty to climb. Inside, the lighthouse smelled of lead paint, rust, sea spray, and diesel. On the staircase, the circular motion to the right all the way up made Nina dizzy. Once again the awful misery gripped her, but she distracted herself from it by listening to Purdue and Sam whispering athletic challenges to each other.
“Hurry, guys. I just need to get to the top. This winding madness is making me feel sick,” Nina whispered, hastening up to Sam who was right in front of her.
“Patience,” Purdue said back, furiously puffing from the exertion of the tiny steps he had to take up.
“Whoa! STOP!” Sam shouted, and Nina and Purdue halted on their respective steps.
“What?” she asked.
“Jesus, I almost stepped on this!” Sam said, pointing just ahead of him. Only a few steps from the top of the thirty-five-meter-high winding stairs, several steps had rusted away. Of the steps ahead, seven were rotted away by corrosion. Only one step in the middle of the lot was proper enough to step on and then the top three were still sturdy.
“I would have fallen several stories, if I was not so unfit,” he admitted, grateful that his winded state forced him to stop for a moment. “I would not have seen this death trap if I kept on!”
“Thank God!” Nina sighed. “You would never survive a drop like that.”
“Come, let’s get up there. Sam, just show us which ones as we go,” Purdue suggested. “We’ll come up slowly.”
When they finally made it to the top, the view was spectacular.
“Wow, this was worth the hellish trip up,” Sam remarked, catching his breath with his hands resting on his hips and checking out the panoramic view. His camera dangled from his neck, ready to record the setting and the beauty of Osmussaar.
“This is the home of the white eye,” Purdue smiled, scrutinizing the confined area that could barely hold the giant, decrepit light in its steel caging.
“Up here it is so much warmer from the sunlight, unlike that horrible cold tube below us,” Nina said, dreamily running her fingertips along the glass panels, walking around the whole perimeter of the small chamber.
“Claustrophobic again?” Sam asked.
“Not really. Just don’t like this place. It gives me the creeps. I mean, listen to how the wind whistles through the lighthouse and echoes as if it were a tomb. Everything feels so lonely. So miserable and cold,” she said, still running her fingers over the thick glass as she went. Almost reaching the point again where she had started, she stared out over the majestic coastline of limestone rocks and the fishing boats that looked miniscule from up here.
Suddenly something moved in the bushes to the northwest and caught Nina’s eye. She stopped, her hand still open against the glass. Through her fingers she saw a man emerging from the hedges and bushes, looking up at the lighthouse. He appeared to be looking right at her.
“Purdue, hurry up, please. Find whatever you think can help us locate the next site and let’s get o
ut of here,” she said firmly, keeping a keen eye on the man below in the surrounding field. He was freakishly large and had qualities resembling a Neanderthal. Instantly Nina thought of the yeti men she had encountered. They looked much the same as the inquisitive stranger who had not moved an inch since he came out to look at her.
“What exactly are we looking for, Purdue?” Sam asked as he scanned the place for anything peculiar or out of place.
“The inscription said ‘where the white eye looks,’ so I suppose, if we are correct, that the direction of the light the last time it was used, would point us to something,” Purdue answered, examining the landmasses and beacons he saw through the vantage point in front of the light. “I must concede, I see nothing in particular that can help us, unless I am missing something.”
The bulb of the giant light faced south, toward the interior of the island, but there was nothing significant. Both of them looked down from the glass to survey the stretch of island that spanned just over approximately one mile from there. The silent, pallid buildings below were of no substance to their search, as far they could see. Purdue and Sam recognized no specific pattern or signs from the desolate little structures nestled in the tall grasses and bushes.
“I see nothing either,” Sam noted. “Maybe you should whip out your seeker and see if there is another building in plain sight that we cannot see?”
Purdue shook his head and chuckled, “We don’t have to, Sam.”
“Guys, you mind making it snappy?” Nina asked from across the chamber, still staring out from the window panel.
“I think Purdue found something, Nina. Come see,” Sam invited, and took several shots of Purdue’s discovery. They did not have to look outside over the expanse of the island after all. The sign they sought was right in front of them—literally. Sam took pictures of the symbol that was carved into the thick layers of paint that had been added every few years over decades. Three drinking horns were entwined to form a three-pointed emblem.
“Nina, do you know this insignia? It looks so familiar,” Purdue asked her. Reluctantly she left the window to have a look, but she looked unwell.
“That is the Triple Horn, a symbol of poetry and wisdom . . . the Triple Horn of Odin,” she announced, bringing a smile to Purdue’s face. He rested his hand gently on her shoulder, “Nina, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said abruptly. “I just want to get out of here, please. Please.”
Her big, dark eyes pleaded with Purdue and only then did he realize that dark circles had formed under her eyes, betraying her troubled demeanor and loss of sleep.
“In a minute, I promise,” he vowed, as his fingers softly pressed her skin. “I am just recording what this Triple Horn is marked with and we will be off.”
When Nina returned to the window, the man below had disappeared, upsetting her sense of safety utterly. He was nowhere to be seen on a fairly flat island that did not take up a lot of ground and he could not have moved fast enough to have vanished into the distance, which left Nina with only one presumption. It was an assumption that terrified her, and once again the morose fear washed over her.
As Sam took the last shot of the symbol, Purdue checked the markings on his tablet. On each horn a character or word was inscribed crudely. “Hiid” was written on one. On the other, “46° SW” with the numbers scribbled on top of the letters. And finally a symbol Purdue could not place, but Sam had captured it, so he did not bother Nina with it again.
“Listen, we have to get out of here,” Nina said again, but this time she was taking on a considerably more assertive tone. “We can sort out the rest on the way back to Helsinki. Please, let’s just go.”
“You heard the lady,” Purdue told Sam. Sam turned to her and looked perplexed. He had been looking at the pictures he took on the approach to Jari’s house, when they were still marveling at the reflection of their vehicle.
“Nina,” he said inquisitively while looking down into the screen of his digital camera, “do you know this man?”
“What man?” she asked.
Sam looked up at her, “In every picture of you that I snapped, at the tree line back at Jari’s property, there is a man behind you in the bush. Look.”
He showed her and Purdue the screen and flicked past photo after photo where the image of a very large man loomed behind Nina, watching her intently. He moved precisely with her in every frame as if he was tracking her every move. She recognized the face and the hands clearly and with a gasp she grabbed Purdue’s arm. Her eyes filled with tears as she stared in disbelief at every frame.
“Oh, Jesus,” she cried, “that is Deiter!”
Chapter 22
Eventually Nina was forced to come clean about her impending flight impulse.
“I have bad news,” she told Purdue and Sam after explaining who the man in the picture was. “There has been someone following us, watching us, since we came onto this island, lads. And his presence is the very reason I have been so distant since we came up here.”
“I was wondering what you were so intrigued with outside,” Purdue said.
“I thought you were just admiring the view. For fuck’s sake, Nina, why did you not say something? Your silence has compromised our position here.”
“Oh, get sodded!” she snapped. “I’m sure both of you already thought I was being a hysterical bitch for what happened in the Himalayas. Did you think I would tell you that I saw one of the men I encountered, one of the men I thought were bona fide yeti? You’d have me fucking committed!”
“So you’ve seen this Deiter bloke on the island too?” Purdue asked with a great deal of concern. He was hoping to have a smooth-running operation this time around, but it looked like he had to be on his toes again after thinking he had escaped the clutches of the Black Sun.
“No, this time I saw Thomas. It was Thomas standing down in the field watching us, but I guarantee you, if Deiter was in Finland and Thomas is here, just a few miles away, chances are that all four of them are here for me!” Nina wailed. She was slowly falling back into a hopeless state of panic. Sam put his arms around her.
“I’m sorry, lass,” he said. “But let’s stop fucking about and get out of here, aye?”
“Seconded!” Purdue affirmed, and collected his coat and his sling bag.
They started down the winding stairwell where the ominous wail of the wind made their skins crawl. Cold air circled the confined tubular structure as they descended as quietly and swiftly as they could.
“Guten tag, Olga!” a deep voice possessed the atmosphere inside the lighthouse.
Purdue, Sam, and Nina stopped in their tracks and looked down. In the small circular landing of the stairs stood all four of the men Nina had been captured by in the tunnels under the snow. Her heart stopped and she fell back into Sam’s arms.
“Gentlemen, how are you?” Purdue addressed the oddly massive primates below them. “Fancy a beer to discuss this like civilized people?”
“We want the woman,” Thomas roared. When he scowled his mean, gray eyes almost disappeared under his brow. “She had something that belongs to us.”
“I don’t have it,” she told him.
“Then take us to where you left it,” Thomas suggested forcefully, “or we will snap your boyfriends’ spines right here.”
Sam pointed his camera down and started taking pictures of them.
“What are you doing?” Nina shrieked under her breath.
“I’m pissing them off,” he replied casually.
“Stop that!” one of the giants warned Sam.
“The fact that you are here pisses them off. Why would you exacerbate things?” she frowned, frantically trying to avert Sam from taking any more shots.
“Nina,” Purdue said, “just stay behind me.”
“You are trapped,” Deiter said. “You have nowhere to escape. So give us the woman so that she can tell us where the item is that she stole from us and we might let you live.”
“And we w
ant that camera,” Thomas bellowed.
Their voices were even louder in the hollow structure, giving them a god-like quality.
“Look, lads, she does not have it. The police confiscated it. You would have to speak to them,” Purdue contended.
“Police? You think we would let the world see us? Don’t be stupid. Olga will retrieve the item for us and, until then, you will be in our custody,” Thomas asserted. “Now come down and don’t try anything stupid. You have no idea what you are fucking with.”
To Purdue and Sam, it was instantly clear that Thomas was the Alpha of the bunch. They had no idea who these men were, but by their slightly freakish features and their involvement in the archeological dig, it was a logical presumption that they were serious, let alone—German. Purdue especially saw Germans as an efficient, no-bullshit breed that would not be perturbed by negotiation once they had set their sights on something.
“All right, all right,” Purdue said cordially, his hands open to remove any gestures of threat. He came down the steps slowly, leaving a protective Sam and a terrified Nina behind. “I’ll come down. You can hold me while . . . Olga . . . and Sam here get the item back from the police,” he offered. “What do you say?”
“Fair enough, but we’ll keep both of you men until she brings the generator back,” Thomas replied. Sam shook his head. His embrace tightened around Nina, while Purdue and the giants waited.
“I’m not letting go of her,” Sam protested. “No fucking way!”
“Sam, take it easy,” Purdue said, trying to be diplomatic until the status quo could be overturned. But Sam was adamant.
“No. No taking it easy. Don’t you see? If they don’t want to be seen, it means we are all dead the moment they have the flask,” he said. Against his chest he could feel Nina’s tiny frame shaking as she pushed back into him. There was no question that she did not want him to let go.
“So what do you propose otherwise?” Purdue shouted. “You are making things so much more difficult. We have no choice!”