The Time Portal 3: The Princess

by Joe Corso

  “Please sit down,” he said. “I am so glad you could come.”

  Lucky had several things he wanted to say in response to that remark but held his tongue. Instead, he showed no emotion.

  “The pleasure is ours, Mr. Koros,” Lucky answered cheerily. “I must admit, my curiosity was piqued when Karl approached me. But here we sit. I am yours for the evening. Now what can I do for you?”

  “Please Mr. Campo, let’s have dinner first before we discuss business,” Vlad insisted.

  This guy is some piece of work, Lucky thought. But Lucky smiled and he and Mickey followed Koros to the dining area of the penthouse. In the center of the table sat a magnum of Dom Perignon – a premier champagne known to anyone, anywhere in the world who appreciates the finer things in life. Fritz immediately lifted it and began the process of opening it.

  “Only the best for my guests,” Vlad said as he watched Fritz pour the bubbly liquid into three majestic, gold-trimmed flute glasses. It was hard to miss its signature label. Vlad held his glass high, signaled a toast, to what no one knew, but a cordial toast it was.

  As the last drop vanished from each glass, Fritz arrived with a cart and a single bottle of wine. Koros, ever the talker, explained how he had long awaited the perfect occasion in which to open this quarter of a million dollar treasure purchased at auction. Lucky and Mickey couldn’t help it. All poker faces aside, that comment commanded attention and attention it got. Each man’s eyes widened a bit and Lucky felt it incumbent upon him to speak, but Koros cut him off just as he was about to protest.

  “This bottle,” Koros said, “came from Napoleon’s personal wine cellar.”

  While he spoke in an unpretentious manner, the billionaire was sure to punch the word personal, emphasizing the uniqueness of the liquid.

  Lucky glanced around the room almost half expecting Napoleon himself to enter and take a seat with them but was sure that he’d disapprove of the decorating style. This part of the penthouse was reminiscent of a lavish South Beach restaurant. The room had thick, white, sisal carpets and like all other rooms so far, an amazing view.

  With their glasses aimed high, all three men followed Vlad’s lead and toasted to success, although the only one who knew what that meant was Vlad. To Mickey, it meant just leaving this joint alive.

  The meal was off to a fine start. First, a staff member delivered the amuse bouche – bite-sized sugar cones stuffed with diced lamb shank with Moroccan barbecue sauce balanced atop a glass statuette. It was an impressive presentation, a little something to tantalize the palate. Next, a staff of three entered, each carrying a dish for each of the men on white and green china. Koros explained that he had purchased Napoleon’s original china at auction and when he used them, it made him feel as if he was having dinner with the emperor. Next came a Portobello mushroom terrine served with roasted red bell peppers and a platter of medium morsels of seared, sesame seed crusted tuna steak with flecks of sautéed spinach on top, drizzled with what seemed to be an orange vinaigrette. That was followed by an herb salad, laden with warm goat cheese. The dishes were cleared and another server appeared with a tray of small shot glasses of citrus sorbet and placed one in front of each gentleman. Lucky knew what this was, but judging from Mickey’s face, his good buddy was a bit perplexed.

  “Mickey,” Lucky said. “It’s called intermezzo. It’s a palate cleaner to prepare your taste buds for the main course.”

  “Oh, okay,” Mickey answered. “I didn’t want to embarrass myself, but I was just about to ask why dessert is being served so soon. Thought that might be all there was.”

  With that, Vlad leaned back and laughed heartily. Lucky joined in and pretty soon, Mickey did as well. The three men sat there just laughing at Mickey’s expense.

  “That’s a good one, Mickey,” Vlad said. “No, I can assure you that there is more to come,” he added in between spurts of laughter. “I like, how do Americans say it – ‘fat and happy’ guests.” That brought another round of laughter.

  Within moments, the servers reappeared, each carrying a large plate. A cloche, a dome used to keep the food warm until the moment of presentation, shielded each plate. In almost perfect unison, the servers removed the lids. Fragrant steam filled the air and Mickey sat there inhaling the food’s perfume. The entrée was crisp duck breast with root vegetables, grilled mushrooms and five spice meat – each plate a stunning piece of art. Amazing what a great meal could do, Lucky thought.

  The mood was festive. The men seemed as though they had known each other for a long time and to Mickey and Lucky, Koros seemed harmless enough.

  With dinner now finished, Fritz appeared yet again, this time with a tray of after dinner drinks.

  “Do you happen to have Sambuca?” Lucky asked.

  “We do indeed.”

  “I heard that this was your favorite,” Koros said, “so we made sure to please you.”

  “Well now,” Lucky replied. “This must be some kind of serious business if you went to all the trouble to find out details down to what kind of cordials I like.”

  “Black,” Koros said, “Black Sambuca and even though it is black, not white, still three coffee beans.”

  Vlad looked at him, gave Lucky a slight nod as Fritz placed a snifter before Lucky, filled it with black liquid and using a small set of tongs, gingerly placed three coffee beans into the drink. Immediately the beans rose and floated on the top.

  “I’m impressed Vlad,” Lucky said. “I’m impressed especially with the coffee beans.”

  Fritz began to pass around an assortment of fine Cuban cigars. Each man helped himself. There was every fine names known to cigar connoisseurs – Romeo and Julieta, Monte Cristo’s, torpedoes, Belicoso’s, Cohiba’s, blends, you name it. It was cigar paradise.

  Mickey and Lucky sipped their licorice liqueur and puffed on their tobacco delights. Lucky would take a puff and then dunk the inhaling end into the liqueur and slowly draw the smoke through it. Koros joined in, smoking and sipping on his port – his favorite after dinner drink.

  “Come take a look,” Koros said as he stood and walked out of the dining area toward his office. Mickey and Lucky followed him over to the Koros command center where he proudly showed them his toys. They included not only his computers and monitors but his own satellite.

  “Pretty snazzy,” Mickey remarked.

  Next, Koros led them into another area of the penthouse. Once there, he unlocked a door and slowly opened it. Inside, was an exquisite assortment of medieval weapons and other strange objects, which he explained to be, torture devices. There was even a collection of rare first generation, Colt, single action guns. Above them, a sign was hung which read: God Created Man and Colonel Colt Made Them Equal.

  Mickey and Lucky looked at each other without saying a word. It was obvious that Vlad was trying to send some sort of message. Koros asked the men if they would like to see the rest of his home.

  “Would love to,” Lucky was quick to respond, but not for the reasons Vlad thought. Lucky could care less about seeing another big home for the sake of its magnificence or expanse. He’d had his fill of castles and mansions. He needed to check out the premises, possible escape routes.

  The tour led them to yet another locked door, one that required a large, old skeleton key, the type not seen too often anymore.

  “Follow me,” Koros said and the men did as instructed, as they walked closely behind him, step after step, as they descended a dark, damp stairwell that eventually landed well below street level. Lucky counted each step and knew that they were now approximately three sub-stories down. The last step brought them into an old room that appeared to be cut from the original rock foundation of Vlad’s home. Water dripped down the stone blocks. The room was lined with cells, designed for the sole purpose of imprisonment.

  A voice called out.

  “Help. Please help me.”

  Lucky calmly turned to Koros.

  “Why is he here?”

  The warm hospitality t
hat Mickey and Lucky had seen was gone. Vlad’s eyes were now cold.

  “He’s my enemy,” Koros answered in an emotionless tone. “He dared to defy me.”

  “That’s all?” Lucky questioned.

  Mickey glanced toward Lucky wondering what might come next. This was not a good place to get into an argument and as trained as he and Lucky both were, he knew that surprises, meaning back-up, could be lurking in this dungeon anywhere. ‘Shut up Lucky,’ he wanted to say, but refrained.

  “I am a good friend, Mr. Campo, but a fearful enemy.”

  “Is all of this meant for me, Koros?” Lucky asked. “What’s the point of all this nonsense? Tryin’ to scare me, us?”

  “No, certainly not,” Vlad answered. “I’m stating a fact, nothing more. But I assure you that if you were to become an enemy, which I hope will never happen, then you might expect the same treatment.”

  “I see,” Lucky said, wasting no time in answering. His eyes glared and his head bobbed a bit. “But let me explain myself so you will understand me better,” he continued.

  Mickey bristled a bit. Oh boy, here we go, he thought.

  “Mr. Koros, let’s talk about this for a second,” Lucky added. “You see, I don’t take too kindly to threats. It upsets me. It’s rude and I just don’t like it, so I think you should know something. There have been many attempts to, how should we say it, bring me down, attempts by trained assassins, skilled operatives . . . and I’m still standing. See, I’m right here, talking to you at this moment, still standing. So, obviously they were not successful, their goals were not achieved. Now, I’m not sayin’ that I’m the greatest or anything, but I am sayin’ that Mickey and I here, just don’t like being threatened. I want to be very clear – I’m the last guy in the world you want to mess with.”

  Koros stood quietly, listening to Lucky’s dissertation. He smirked.

  “I expected nothing less from you Mr. Campo,” he finally said.

  Lucky continued. “But enough of this. Let’s talk upstairs. I’m ready to hear the reason you brought us here and what it is you need from me. The fancy champagne’s gone, we’ve seen your castle, our bellies are full and you’ve threatened us with your dungeon. Now what the hell is it? Let’s get to it as I have other things that need my attention.”

  Koros examined Lucky. There was no fear in his eyes. Vlad then walked toward an elevator and pressed the button. It took them straight to the penthouse.

  “Cute,” Lucky said. He just couldn’t help himself. “You made us walk all the way down here for effect when the elevator was right there all along.”

  Koros just smiled.

  Upstairs, more drinks were poured, more cigars were passed and the conversation ensued. Koros took control.

  “Mr. Campo, it has come to my attention, and I might add at great expense, that you have a very unique gift. As you know, I am a wealthy man, money is no concern to me and I am willing to pay you handsomely for your services.”

  Lucky jumped right in. “Mr. Koros, I know that you’re a wealthy man, but just as a point of information, I have accumulated an impressive array of assets myself, perhaps over the two billion dollar mark. I don’t know your worth, and really don’t care because I don’t need your money, but I’m a reasonable man and if I can help you, I will, and . . . at no cost to you. But first, you’ll need to tell me what is it that you need and if it is reasonable, I will offer you my services.”

  Vlad leaned forward as though he was about to whisper.

  “I am quite interested in my ancestor,” he said, “Vlad ΙΙΙ Prince of Wallachia. You might say that I am, well, a bit obsessed with him.’

  “Okay,” Lucky replied.

  “I understand that you have the ability to go back in time.”

  At that moment, Lucky held up his hand. “Let me stop you right there,” Lucky interjected, “and clarify something for you. I have the ability to travel back in time, yes. A portal can take me to a specific time and place, but I can’t select where it will take me. In other words, I can’t go wherever I want even though I would like to. Is that clear?”

  “Mr. Campo, I want to go back in time to visit my ancestor. I want to meet him, talk to him, introduce myself to him as his future heir. You must find a way to do this for me.”

  “You weren’t listening,” Lucky said somewhat aggravated by now. “I can’t take you to him. I have never been to that time period. I can’t. Sorry.”

  “That’s not good enough Mr. Campo. Why don’t you sleep on it tonight and we’ll discuss it further tomorrow?”

  And with that, Vlad rose from his chair, rang a little bell that was sitting on the table next to him, and three very large men entered the room.

  “Please direct our guests to their rooms,” Koros said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jack Kinsey clicked the intercom button and called the nurse supervisor Sutherland.

  “Come to my office immediately,” he said.

  “Sure,” she answered. She couldn’t understand what the Director might possibly want from her. She had left him under amicable circumstances when she agreed to drop her interest in the mystery woman.

  Sutherland opened the door and entered Kinsey’s office. Jack Kinsey immediately sprang from his chair waving the morning newspaper at her.

  “I’ve been stalling Fox News since I got this,” he said angrily. “They have a news truck outside the compound and it’s a good thing we’re in a military establishment or I could never have ignored them. What is this?” he said pointing at the paper. “Who the hell did you talk to? I gave you explicit orders not to talk to anyone,” he yelled.

  “No one,” she replied.

  “Bullshit! You talked to someone, you had to. Now think. Who did you talk to after you left this office?”

  Nurse Sutherland thought for a moment. There was only one name and one person only.

  “The only person, and I mean the only person, I spoke to was Alice Myers. She is the nurse who originally questioned me about this girl being in an emergency priority with no information. I couldn’t answer her questions because I didn’t have the answers so I came to you. After I left you, she came to my office and asked if I had found out anything. I told her I couldn’t talk about it, but I did say that all I knew about her was that she is a VIP and we are helping her to recover, that she should be gone in a few days. She’s a good nurse but very nosy. I cautioned her. I used these words exactly - that you’re a good nurse but also very nosy. I told her to drop her interest in this woman. That’s it. That is the only conversation before or since our discussion. She must be the one who alerted the media.”

  Kinsey pushed the intercom button again. It rang straight to the nurse’s station. Alice Myers got right on the phone. When she entered Kinsey’s office, she knew there was trouble.

  “Please have a seat Ms. Myers,” Kinsey said.

  She had barely been seated when the questions began.

  “When you asked your supervisor if she found out anything about the patient in the priority room, did she tell you that she couldn’t talk about it? “Did she tell you that you should not tell anyone or talk to anyone about this patient?”

  Alice nodded yes.

  “Did you?”

  “Did I what Mr. Kinsey?”

  “Don’t play games with me Nurse Myers. Did you talk to anyone about this patient?”

  “Well, yes,” she stammered. “I, uh, I called Fox News and, uh, the . . . local . . . paper.”

  “Besides the obvious insubordination that you’ve shown, did it ever occur to you that this woman might be none of your business? Do you realize that what we do here on this base is largely confidential?’

  Myers sat listening but could not respond. She had no answers.

  “You can leave now,” Kinsey said. “Stop by the payroll office and pick up your pay. Your last check through today will be mailed to you. If I hear that you’ve spoken to anyone else about this woman, I will have you arrested for breaching national se
curity regulations. One word, just one word, will be all it takes. Now get out of here before I have you arrested right now.”

  Jack turned to the supervising nurse who had until now sat motionless in a chair next to Myers.

  “That will be all Ms. Sutherland. Thank you for helping me clear up this matter.”

  The two women stood and walked out of the office together.

  Alice Myers was scared – more afraid than she had ever been. She actually thought for a moment that she was about to be arrested. Losing her job only was a relief.

  Supervisor Sutherland was angry. On the elevator and on the walk back, she spoke not a word to Meyers.

  Kinsey called the emergency room and asked for Dr. Grossman.

  “How’s the patient in the priority room doing?”

  “Very well,” the doctor answered. “She’s responding to medication. Dr. Richmond worked on her mouth this afternoon. Doing great.”

  “Good. I need her moved to another priority room, something more isolated and private, but I need her moved asap. Can you handle it?”

  “Sure. I’ll tell the nurses to move her now. It’ll be done in the next ten minutes. Is that fast enough?”

  “Sure is. Thanks.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The two mercenaries checked their watches. It was time to get the show on the road. They moved to a particular section of chain link fence on the compound behind the hospital. The fence in this area was electrified because it was located in an isolated area, away from civilian traffic. Wearing insulated gloves, one of the men attached a wire to one section of the fence and the other end to an area of fence three feet from this one thus circumventing any signal that might be sent central dispatching. The message regarding a breach in the fence would never arrive. A hydraulic bolt cutter sliced through the thick, military grade, chain link section and the men pulled it to the side.