by J. R. Rain
“Nice shot,” Trey acknowledged. He released Mallory, who tumbled down the stairs and lay in another heap at Eve’s feet. “But I think you nicked my ear.”
Eve stepped over the bodies and hurried up to him. He sighed. It was useless to expect the woman to follow his orders.
He turned forward, peering out through the open door. On deck, black-hooded figures rushed toward him. Trey slammed the door shut, locking it, and hurried back down the stairs. Eve trailed right behind.
“You have the Coins and the diary?” he asked, not missing a step.
“Of course,” she panted.
“C’mon, then!”
They sped off down the narrow hallway, turned left up a smaller flight of stairs.
At the top landing, one of the black-hooded men appeared. Without slowing, Trey threw a punch that caught the man in the face. The man tumbled down the stairs.
Trey and Eve stepped cautiously outside. Utter chaos surrounded them: dead crewmen, gunfights, and a rapidly-spreading fire on the bridge.
“What do we do?” Eve asked desperately.
“Just follow me. Stay close. I’ll cover you.”
They dashed across the deck. Beyond the boat, another storm threatened. Lightning flashed across the now clouded sky. The sea was turbulent, angry.
Trey led Eve to a dark shed on the deck. The two quickly donned neoprene diving suits, strapped on air tanks, weight belts, fins and full face masks. Eve secured the diary and coins within a plastic pouch around her waist.
Eve was amazed at how quietly Trey removed from the corner, two lightweight, state of the art Torpedo 2020 diver propulsion vehicles. The hand-held vehicles had two battery-powered hulls that looked a bit like rockets. Both machines would reach underwater speeds of up to five knots.
“How the hell do these things work?” Eve asked, quickly inspecting them.
“It’s like driving a motorcycle,” he said, getting the things ready. “Only underwater.”
“But I’ve never driven a—”
But Trey was already moving. As he emerged from the shed, he was immediately confronted by two of the black-hooded pirates. Trey leveled his rifle and fired a burst of bullets. Both of the hooded men took cover, diving out of the way.
With Eve close behind, Trey dashed across deck, each of them dragging the propulsion vehicles, as bullets splintered the deck wood near their feet. As they ran, Trey yanked down his dive mask. Eve followed suit. In full stride, they leaped together over the railing and into the black-as-night water.
Bullets penetrated down into the inky water depths, streaking like mini-torpedoes through the choppy swells. Ten feet underwater, Trey activated his vehicle. The twin turbines kicked in. Eve did the same after a few desperate attempts.
Trey quickly showed Eve how to turn the cyclic, and soon both streaked off together twenty feet below the surface. Gripping the vehicle’s handlebars, Trey angled it down to thirty feet and gunned it. Eve did the same.
The black-hooded men leapt into their speedboat, gunning it to life. The speedboat headed out, a spotlight shining deep into the water, searching.
The pirates’ speedboat kicked into gear and whipped about crazily. But the black water depths were Trey and Eve’s ally. Finally, the speedboat turned away, cutting across the water’s surface and back toward the now-burning research vessel.
Underwater and away from the vessel, Trey considered it safe to turn on the powerful floodlights. Before them was an amazing scene of underwater night life. A playful porpoise briefly escorted Eve, then dashed away.
Trey and Eve gunned their throttles and continued forward into the black unknown...
Chapter Fifteen
Senator Preston Draken stood on the deck of the burning research vessel. A man exited outside from a nearby doorway. He removed his woolen cap; it was Mack O’Brien.
“The Coin and diary are gone,” he told his boss, “but...”
Draken turned on him fiercely. “You’ve failed me again.”
“You didn’t let me finish, Senator,” O’Brien offered respectfully. “We found some notes. Dated tonight.”
Draken was clearly irritated. “Notes do not help me. You told me you were the best.” He turned to O’Brien, eyes blazing, intimidating. “I’m beginning to think otherwise.”
O’Brien respectfully stepped back. “The notes were made from the diary. Sir, they lead the way to the remaining coins.”
This stopped Draken. He took the information in, and then smiled evilly.
* * *
Edinburgh, Scotland, was truly beautiful on this cool, sunny morning. The medieval town, with its cobblestone streets and walkways, was enchanting.
Trey and Eve sat outside a newer café, sipping coffee, taking in with pleasure the surrounding medieval brick and stone facades. A mist-enshrouded castle stood in the background.
Trey, as usual, ignored his coffee. Instead, his hand held a coin. Not a Judas Coin but a large, harmless English shilling. His hand turned the coin over and over between his fingers. It gleamed. Eve dismissed his coin trick, still studying Frost’s diary, which was spread open in front of them.
“Ever get the feeling something bad is about to happen?” Trey asked, his eyes still glued to the shilling.
“Not funny,” Eve countered without looking up.
Trey sat the coin down and put his hand over the book, blocking Eve’s concentration. “Seriously, think about it. The Lithuania sank with Frost as a passenger. Your father died in a plane crash, with a Judas Coin in his possession. Your shop burned to the ground.”
Irritated, Eve leaned back, leveling her defiant eyes at Trey.
He continued, “We lost a research vessel, not to mention the many innocent sailors who died on that boat. Don’t you see a connection?”
Eve didn’t want to talk about bad luck. At the very least, she was OCD about the whole situation. She was irrationally focused on the diary...and, of course, the silver Judas Coins.
She tapped her fingers with impatience. “What’s our next step?”
“Sleep,” Trey answered definitively.
“And then what?” Eve persisted.
“We storm the castle.”
“Once we get inside the castle?”
“Sugar, trust me.” He gave her that grin. “We take it one Coin at a time.”
Satisfied with his plan, Eve nodded. “According to Frost’s diary, there is a complex maze of tunnels beneath his castle. Most are natural,” she explained, “but some, not so much.”
“Luckily,” Trey said confidently, “we have the diary to lead us through them.”
Eve nodded as the waiter dropped off the bill at their table. They both eyed it.
“Who’s paying?” Eve asked playfully.
Trey flipped a coin... “Heads or tails?”
“Tails,” she said as the coin flipped in the air.
Trey caught it, looked down and sighed. “How do you always call it?”
Trey walked her to her room. He leaned against the door as she used her card key to unlock the door. “Do I get a goodnight kiss?”
“I don’t give goodnight kisses to thieves,” she quipped.
“You didn’t seem to mind when we were engaged.”
“That’s because you lied to me, Trey Jordan. I didn’t know you were a thief and a liar when we first met.”
Trey leaned down and stole a kiss anyway. Eve opened her mouth, returning the kiss passionately at first, but then pulled away.
Trey brushed the hair back from her face, then shrugged. “So, I stole a kiss. What else would you expect from a thief?”
He turned, leaving Eve a little flustered and flushed, and he whistled contentedly, walking to his own room.
* * *
Once in her room, Eve moved straight to her suitcase. She sighed heavily as she brought out a bottle of vodka. She gulped down the hard stuff, shuddering. She sat back in the chair and closed her eyes, letting the alcohol take effect.
That’s when t
he man lurking in the corner spoke. “Believe me, I’ve tried every drug there is, too.”
Eve swung around to find Draken standing near her closed balcony door.
“But there is no denying the lure of the Coins.” He pulled back his hood. His pale cheeks were hollow, but his lips were blood red. He looked like a vampire. Or someone who had sold his very soul to the devil. “Good evening, Ms. Friday,” he said coolly.
“Senator Draken.” Eve remained calm. The vodka helped a little, and she drank in front of him. “Fancy meeting you here.” She stood now, trying to gather her wits.
Draken took a step toward her, and she took a step back, wondering how he’d gotten into her room.
He continued toward her, she backed up against her door. She reached behind, grabbed the doorknob. She opened it, but—
SLAM! Draken, still halfway across the spacious room, simply raised his hand and the door behind her slammed shut.
Eve gasped in shock. She now regretted that drink. She was a little more than confused, and now scared.
Still, she bravely faced Draken, who moved toward her slowly, his lips forming an evil grin.
“Neat trick, asshole,” Eve managed.
“I want the Coins,” he told her. “You now have two of them.”
“How much are they worth to you?”
Draken motioned again with his hand, and a powerful invisible force slammed into Eve, hurling her into the door.
“The price is non-negotiable,” he said grimly.
* * *
Trey was still whistling when he entered his own suite, but he stopped short when he saw the three men waiting for him. All were dressed in black, and all pointed guns at him.
Instinctively, Trey hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. Gunshots rang out and three flashlights clicked on in unison.
Trey pounced on the first man, fists swinging. The man grunted, trying to fight back. Trey grabbed him, turned him around, and as two more shots rang out, he used the man as a human shield. The man Trey had used cried out and went limp. Trey tossed him aside and dove away as still more shots were fired.
* * *
Eve heard shots being fired from elsewhere in the hotel, but she couldn’t move. Draken raised a pale hand, blue veins zigzagging just beneath the surface of his skin. He opened it, pointed it at her. His hand formed into a claw. He locked eyes with her and tightened his grip.
Immediately, invisible fingers clamped around Eve’s throat. She gagged, and choking, grabbed futilely at the invisible fingers on her own throat. From halfway across the room, Draken used his dark powers to start to squeeze the life out of her. Eve’s face turned a ghastly purple.
He walked slowly toward her. “Where are the Coins, Miss Friday? And this time, no fakes.”
Draken stood before her, still holding out his clawed hand before him. He leaned over Eve, his face now skeletal and evil. “Where are the Coins?!” he bellowed.
Eve’s flailing hand knocked over the bedside lamp. Her grasping fingers curled around the iron base. With the last of her strength, she hefted the lamp upward—and cracked it hard over Draken’s skull. The man toppled to the side in a heap of black clothing.
Eve sucked in a great lungful of air. She wanted to run, but first, she desperately needed to catch her breath. She stumbled back toward the door. As she reached for the handle, Draken rose from the floor as if from a supernatural force. Eve reached for the doorknob. But it was now glowing red. She burned her hand and cried out.
She turned to face Draken, terrified. He had a huge gash across his cheek from her blow; the wound was deep and bloody. Eve cried out again in more fear as the wound closed and healed before her eyes.
* * *
Chaos continued in Trey’s darkened room. He fought like a pro, dodging bullets and trading punches, his fists flying. He threw furniture, his suitcase, whatever he could lay his hands on to outmaneuver the two remaining men.
One of the men staggered to the wall and flicked on the light. He saw Trey holding the other by the throat, ready to deliver a wicked blow. Trey blinked at the sudden brightness.
Standing by the light switch, the first man took aim with his gun. Trey swallowed and watched helplessly as his enemy pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. He was out of bullets. Trey grinned at his sudden stroke of good luck, then turned and delivered the final knock-out blow.
The other man tossed his now-useless gun to the side, flung the door open and bolted. Trey was right on his trail.
As the man ran down a side corridor, Trey briefly considered giving chase, but decided against it. Instead, he hurried back toward Eve’s room.
* * *
With both hands now raised, Draken used his powerful forces to lift Eve into the air where she paused briefly, hovering. Draken shot his hand forward and WHAM! Eve was hurled backward, hitting the wall midway up and hard. She slumped to the floor, the wind knocked out of her.
He was about to attack her again, but he paused. He cocked his head to the side a little and focused on her breasts. He reached, still from a distance, with his hand toward them, hands open. As he did so, two coin-sized shapes pushed out against her bra and blouse, stretching both out, pointed conspicuously toward him.
Eve looked down and saw what was happening inside her bra, and slapped Draken as hard as she could across the face. “You...pig!”
Trey heard loud voices from within as he reached Eve’s suite, followed by something slamming hard against a wall. He tried the door handle. Locked. He pounded with his fist. The three creepy men he took care of easily, but now he was seriously worried. “Eve!” he shouted. “Eve!”
No response. Trey backed up against the far wall and lunged, throwing his shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge, but he hurt his shoulder. “Dammit!” He grabbed it, moving it around to see if it was dislocated.
Trey gathered himself up, lifted his booted foot and kicked the door in. The lock and doorjamb splintered, and the door burst open.
Draken snapped his face around at Trey, furious at the disturbance. He raised his bony hand, and a phosphorescent ball of white energy hurled toward Trey. Trey was immediately enveloped in a crackling halo of zigzagging bolts of super-heated energy.
Trey cringed and winced, waiting for what, he didn’t know, but nothing happened. “Ouch!” he said. “That hurt!”
He reached inside his shirt and lifted out the Fourth Nail, still attached by the leather strap. The holy relic was glowing red. It was clear the Nail had protected him from Draken’s dark magic. Trey dropped it back down inside of his shirt, then yelped in pain as it briefly seared his skin.
Draken frowned, clearly understanding what force he was up against, and clearly not pleased. After only a moment of deliberation, the Senator turned and fled back through the hotel suite. Trey pursued him, but stopped dead in his tracks as Draken disappeared through the closed balcony doors. Trey’s mouth dropped open, eyes bugging out. “Oh, no, he didn’t.”
Trey opened the French doors just in time to watch as Draken leaped over the balcony wall and disappeared from his view. Trey dashed to the balcony wall and peered down.
Draken’s robe was fluttering behind him like a failed parachute. Trey held his breath, waiting for the inevitable, as the man dropped eight stories to the ground. Then he watched in stunned silence as Draken landed easily, turned around and looked up at him, and then dashed away.
Chapter Sixteen
In the cozy town of Loch Endes, Trey Jordan and Eve Friday stood near the prow of the ferry, their hair whipping around them and their light jackets flapping. A fine mist drizzled down. Eve adjusted her light backpack and closed her eyes for a moment. “Feels so good,” she commented. “You know it’s good for the complexion, this mist.”
Trey, guy that he was, wasn’t interested in beauty tips.
Loch Endes, Scotland, was a beautiful town, fertile with thick, verdant forests. Rising out of the middle of the loch, on a small man-made island,
stood the ancient Castle Noble. The tourists packing the ferry gathered as they drew closer to the magnificent old fortress.
Mack O’Brien was discreetly seated at the stern of the boat. He adjusted his beanie and carefully watched Trey and Eve through his black shades. He was on their trail once again.
Inside the castle, Trey and Eve followed a throng of tourists as they were led down a once-great hall. The young tour guide’s flaming red hair stood out as he spoke quickly, pointing to various tapestries, suits of armor, and weapons of all types. Trey, master thief that he was, noticed immediately that from time to time, the young guide’s eyes lingered on him and Eve. Instinctively, Trey increased his awareness and took note of their surroundings.
The redheaded guide rattled on, “...the Castle was originally built in 1487, during the Hundred Years’ War...” Trey and Eve continued with the crowd, feigning interest.
Trey noticed with pleasure as Eve automatically took his arm. “According to Frost’s diary,” she whispered into his ear, “we need to find the library.”
Trey nodded. The tour guide continued, “The man-made island itself is a minor feat of human engineering. Most remarkable are the dungeons, which flood when the tide is high. Sometimes, as legend has it, the prisoners would be left to drown.” He flickered his gaze suspiciously toward the couple.
Trey moved casually away from Eve, pretending to take interest in one of the weapons. He fell behind the crowd. The group turned a corner.
Acting quickly, Trey reached out and snatched O’Brien, pulling the man aside and into an empty room. He grabbed the Irishman’s collar and smashed him against the wall. O’Brien managed to keep his sunglasses and hat on, though they were a flimsy disguise. He was sucking air, trying to breathe.
“You’ve been following us since Edinburgh,” Trey growled. “Who are you?”