by Joe Corso
The man, completely shocked with the stranger’s tone, huffed, “Queen, I do not take kindly to this visitor speaking this way. His dialect is most unusual and who is this man who talks this way to the Most High Healer?”
“He is our wizard,” Queen Isabella answered.
“Wizard?” the healer asked. “What wizard?”
“He is a man of miracles, a man the gods hast sent to us before. Please, dear healer, step aside and allow him close.”
“Well, I never,” the healer answered. “Your words sting the heart, dear Queen.” And with that, he grabbed his instruments, his book and marched toward the door.
Lucky moved closer to the Princess.
“Mickey,” Lucky said. “Hand me the medicine and supplies please.”
Mickey reached inside the backpack and took out the military field medical kit, the one that always accompanied them on their secret missions and now, also on their time travels. Inside were antidotes for snakebites, a variety of antibiotics, bandages, medical tape, sports salves, small scalpels, medical scissors and anything else deemed necessary for emergencies. Lucky placed the back of his hand onto the Princess’s head. Fever raged through her body. His best guess was well over one hundred. How long, he wondered, had her body endured such high temperatures. Quickly, he grabbed the thermometer and positioned it underneath her tongue, all the while telling the Queen to talk to her sister and explain to her that this foreign object was part of his medicine and that she need not bite down in fear of it harming her. Within seconds, he had a reading – one hundred three point eight. Her life was clearly hanging in the balance.
“Mickey,” he said, “I don’t know what it is but let’s treat it like any other infection and give her a shot of penicillin. My only concern is allergies.”
The Queen and the other two medicine men stared at each other in confusion with such strange language. The words were those they had never heard – infection, allergies, penicillin.
Lucky shushed the room, grabbed her pulse and counted, once again setting off stares of wonder throughout the room. Feeling his touch, the Princess opened her eyes, looked at the two men standing over her, tried to say something, but struggled to form the words. Lucky looked into her tired, weak eyes and marveled at her beauty, even in sickness. She struggled to say something. Lucky leaned over and placed his ear close to her mouth.
She whispered, “By what name go you?”
“Your sister, the Queen, calls me the Wizard, but to my friends, I am called Lucky.”
The Princess smiled and tried to speak again. Lucky brought his fingers to his mouth, signaling for her to rest. He spoke again.
“Rest, dear Princess. Believe. I will drive out the wicked ones and restore your health. You will be free of ailment. Just believe.”
And with those words, Princess Krystina smiled weakly, closed her eyes and fell once again into a deep sleep. While onlookers stared from the doorway, Lucky took a syringe, filled it with five hundred cc’s of antibiotic, held it up, pushed against the plunger to extract the air bubbles and gently guided the needed into her right arm, slowly allowing the serum to enter her body. Once again, he checked her pulse, checking for any variation in heartbeat.
Lucky turned to Mickey and said, “We have to get her to the compound right away. We need their doctors.”
The Queen, still observing, had no idea what object had entered her sister’s body. It was like nothing she had ever seen before but there was a calm about her. She trusted Lucky. She had seen the Wizard before and he had heard her prayers this time. The proof was here. He had actually come to her through her prayers. The Wizard held great magic. Her mind began to wander and she began to question, which prayer, specifically, had been the one that summoned him. How could she know which prayer to use should she ever need his magic again? As she contemplated these things, Lucky interrupted her.
“Your Highness, you must prepare the Princess. We must depart the castle,” Lucky said. The Queen looked at him quizzically.
“Queen Alexandra, you have prayed for the Wizard. I came. Now, you must allow the wizard to take the Princess to another place where there exists more wizard’s magic.”
The Queen gasped and shook her head in slight disapproval almost if more by instinct than anything. It had nothing do with trust or mistrust of Lucky.
“I must depart for a few movements of the sun’s shadow. That should afford the maids-in-waiting enough time to prepare the Princess for departure.”
“So be it Queen,” Lucky answered. We shall return in a small movement of the suns shadow. Mickey, accompany me please.”
Mickey joined Lucky at the door and the two men headed to the portal. Once there, they walked back through it, exited onto the compound grounds and Mickey and Lucky stepped out. Mickey quickly made a call to Jack Kinsey, the director of the Compound, and instructed him to have a medical team on standby. Lucky would phone Kinsey upon their return. Mickey told Jack that as soon as he and Lucky arrived, Kinsey and team would then be given the directions as to where to pick up a very sick patient. Jack assured Mickey that all would be handled quietly without fanfare and that from the moment of the call, the team would arrive no later than three minutes in front of his office building.
“Make sure,” Jack said, “that you move away from the portal. Even though they removed the camera that was near the portal, we don’t need to alert any suspicions.”
Jack was one of the few men who know about the top-secret portal.
Mickey ended the call. He grabbed onto Lucky and they both stepped back into the portal and out once again into the twelfth century.
Lucky looked at the Queen and sternly said, “She must depart now.”
This startled the Queen who recoiled slightly in uncertainty. Lucky placed his hand on her shoulder.
“She will not exist here. Her hours are numbered. I need to take her to another place. I cannot give promise that she will live, dear Queen, but, this oath I do swear – I will treat her with all my magic and remedies within my powers.”
“But where, where will she dwell?”
Lucky looked at her, trying to decide if he should, could, tell her the truth. What the hell, he thought.
“One thousand years into the future,” he said as he looked into the soft blue eyes peering back at him, “where medicine and healing are great, where miracles happen each hour, where the magic is stronger than it is here. It is a place you have never known as it is far ahead in time.”
The Queen looked at him with complete bewilderment. She began to say something but thought better of it. The wizard was speaking of things that made no sense but then again, nothing he did made any sense, nor did the many gifts with magic that he had given them – the little penlight that flashed on and off, that box that made beautiful music, so many mysteries. One thousand years into the future? By the gods, was this possible? She said nothing and motioned for the handmaidens to prepare the Princess’s bags for travel. Four women hastily bustled about the room, opening drawers, packing things and placing them all into a trunk. It took mere minutes to assemble everything.
Carefully, six men lifted the Princess from her bed, placed her onto a litter and carried her out of the castle and onto the grounds. They walked to the portal until Lucky put up his hand, signaling them to stop. He thanked the soldiers who carried the litter and sent them back to the castle. The soldiers knew, from past experience, that there was something very mysterious about this spot and being superstitious men, they felt no need to linger. They were quite glad when the order was given to leave and swiftly they walked, almost galloping away. Lucky turned to the Queen.
“I will do my best to assist, but I must hurry. Each movement of the sun’s shadow is important. You must leave now.”
The Queen began her walk back, never turning around for even a moment. It was honor. She was showing her honor to Lucky.
Carefully, Lucky and Mickey lifted the Princess up off the makeshift bed. There was no way the bed would
fit inside the portal. The space was much too small and tight. They positioned themselves at the door of the portal. There, they placed the Princess in the middle, between them, each holding an opposite arm and supporting her weight, with Mickey still holding onto Lucky’s belt. Slowly, they carried the Princess into the portal and disappeared. Thank goodness they had practiced. This was no easy feat.
Chapter Nine
There were approximately fifty airlines that flew in and out of Budapest, but Koros wanted Karl to leave immediately for the United States and for that reason, it was necessary that Karl use one of the Koros private, personal jets.
Karl was forty–five years of age, six five, and muscular, thanks to his emphasis on health and his daily workouts. Koros had met Karl at a convention in East Germany before the wall came down. At the time, Karl was the Chief of Security for the Radisson Hotel and on that particular evening, he had single handedly squashed an attempted Koros assassination. It was obvious that the assassin wannabes were not professionals. It was sloppily planned. Karl had spotted the phony waiters – they seemed out of place. While all the other waiters went about their work servicing tables, these men stood behind their cart, staring at the dais as if waiting for something to happen . . . or more likely waiting for exactly the right moment to make something happen.
Karl watched intently and noticed that their eyes never left Koros. He inched his way over to them. When the “waiter” closest to him bent down to retrieve something from a compartment in the food cart, Karl spotted a weapon in the crook of his back tucked into and supported by his belt. Karl looked over to two other men. They were stationary. The crowd was busy listening to guest speakers. Casually, he walked over to the one man near him, passed him, perched his foot against the wall and stood there casually so as to not arouse suspicion. Seconds later, he positioned himself directly behind him. Working swiftly, he raised his hands and placed one on each side of the man’s neck. In a lightning fast motion, he twisted his neck to the left. With a sickening crunch, the man fell limp. Karl eased the man into a chair positioned alongside the cart. It looked as though the man was sleeping and no one seemed to notice what had just happened. Karl raised his wrist and whispered into the high tech microphone device that he used for every job, for two of his men to approach, slowly. He described the other two men, also dressed as waiters, and instructed his men to escort the one on the right side of the room into the hallway. Karl’s men approached another of the waiters. One man walked next to him and another behind. With the pressure of metal pressed into his back, the waiter followed the men’s orders. Once outside in the hallway, they confiscated his gun, warned him to remain quiet, and proceeded to bind his wrists with flex ties. Meanwhile, Karl approached the other strange acting man while holding his weapon close to his waist in a position that no one would notice. When he reached the gunman, he inched closely to him, whispered something into his ear, and made sure the man felt the prod in the small of his back. They walked toward the door. Karl and men took the two waiters down to the security offices, located in the basement floor. Once there, the waiters were tortured mercilessly until Karl had all the information he needed. Being of no more use, they were shot, hauled off the premises and disposed of.
Karl was first and foremost a policeman. It was not unusual for him to be a bit overzealous at times when questioning a detainee. It was the hunt he most enjoyed. The end was simply an anticlimax. In his mind, he was a fair man who did his job exceedingly well, but the truth was he was a brutal, sadistic killer who enjoyed the “extraction process” of securing information from reluctant subjects. His blonde good looks, muscular build and charming personality made him completely disarming.
Through it all, a superior knew Karl for his unflinching loyalty. Koros was informed of the assassination attempt on his life and after giving his speech, he exited the dais and headed straight to security where he joined Karl and his men. There, Koros observed his questioning techniques and was impressed with Karl’s cool, detached manner. It was later that evening when Karl was summoned to a meeting with Koros in his penthouse suite at the Radisson. After drinks and casual conversation, Koros learned more about Karl and his background, as it was obvious that there was more to this man than Chief of Security at a hotel.
“I worked for the Stasi – East Germany’s secret police force,” he answered. Koros smiled. He knew all about the fanatical secret police.
“What do they pay you?” Koros asked.
Karl just sat there, trying to determine whether such personal information should be shared and before he could answer, Koros continued.
“How would you like to take that salary, whatever it is that they are paying you, and multiply it by three?”
Karl’s eyes widened and he calmly answered the question with his own.
“Who would pay me that much money?”
Koros twirled his cigar a few times, took a puff, and without flinching, responded, “I would. I’d like to hire you as my Chief of Security but I must warn you, should you choose to accept this position, you will earn that money,” he said as he took another puff from the Cuban cigar.
Karl smiled.
“I travel all over the world. I have many enemies. I need someone like you to accompany me as my bodyguard, to cover my back, to handle sensitive matters for me.”
The deal was done. Karl resigned his job immediately and from that night twenty years ago, he had worked exclusively for Vlad Koros.
Chapter Ten
Lucky called Jack Kinsey the moment they stepped out of the portal and told him that he and Mickey had a very special guest with them who needed a stretcher that medical team they had spoken about earlier sent to the walkway opposite the portal. They would be waiting.
The team arrived within moments. At first, they seemed a little puzzled by her clothing, but quickly set about preparing her for transport to a room nearby. The doctor immediately placed an IV into the Princess’s arm and the stretcher and its patient were rushed off to the compound hospital.
“Doctor,” Lucky said, “I don’t want anyone talking to this woman and I don’t want her to be aware of her environment. She must remain sedated and she mustn’t know where she is. Is that understood?”
The doctor looked at him suspiciously.
“I’ll do nothing of the sort,” he responded in a huff. “My Hippocratic oath states that it is my job to help this woman. I do not administer drugs unless they are necessary for recovery.”
Lucky asked, “What do you know about me doctor?”
“I know that you have a top security profile and that information about you is on a need-to-know basis, but that . . . is all I know.”
“Doctor, what is your security clearance?” Lucky inquired.
Such intrusive questioning was clearly annoying the doctor. He answered, not so happily.
“In order for me to be able to work at the compound, I had to be upgraded to a top security level.”
Lucky thought for a moment, tilted his head a little and then lowered his chin and squinted his eyes.
“Can you keep a secret doctor?” Lucky asked. “I mean, can you keep a secret even if your life depended on it?”
The doctor didn’t answer.
“Because if I let you in on my secret,” Lucky added, “your life will depend on it.”
The doctor was not amused. He glared back at Lucky.
“Is that a threat? Because if it is, I can assure you that I do not take kindly to such nonsense,” the doctor answered.
“It isn’t nonsense, doctor. If you repeat what I am about to show you, I will come back here, I will find you, and you will regret the day you were born. I’ll see to it that you disappear, just vanish into thin air,” Lucky said snapping his fingers, “without a trace.”
“How dare you!” the doctor retorted.
“How dare I is right,” Lucky said. “Now listen carefully. This woman you are treating is a Princess from the twelfth century. You see, I have the ability to tra
vel in time, well travel in time with limitations, let me add, and that’s what makes me so valuable to our government.”
“What do you take me for – some sort of fool?” the doctor asked. Lucky just ignored him and kept talking.
“Do you fully understand why your patient cannot know where she is? She has never been exposed to our century. Look at her clothes. That should tell you something. This woman isn’t going to a costume party. She is ill, very ill. If she were to awaken, she could actually die from fright. You need to protect her from herself. As soon as she recovers, I intend to take her back to her time. Her sister is Queen Alexandra married to King Robert of Briton. She is Princess Krystina, daughter of King William of Britain’s Northern provinces.”
The doctor looked at him skeptically and said. “Please save your insults and tall tales for someone else. I have work to do. If you want this woman to live, I suggest we get on with it.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you believe it or not. I’m just telling you that if you ever tell a soul, just one single person, what I just told you, you will never have the chance to repeat that mistake.”
“I should report you to compound security for threatening a fellow agent.”
Lucky could tell that he was getting nowhere with this man.
“Tell you what,” Lucky said. “Can your people do without you for fifteen short minutes?”
“Yes, of course, they can, and although I would prefer not to,” he said a bit under his breath, not knowing what to expect, “I can spare you fifteen minutes. It’ll take them about that much time to prepare the patient.” the doctor answered.
“Good,” Lucky said, “then take a walk with me. I want to show you something.”
At first, the doctor hesitated, his face still a bit red from this confrontation, but within seconds, anger turned to curiosity. He followed alongside Lucky as they briskly walked along a path until they arrived at the field where the portal resided.