“Their stories didn’t seem to be rehearsed. It may have all happened as they said. It was a suicide mission after all.”
The Baron addressed his henchman, “I want you to put a tail on those two. Observe everything they do for the next couple of days.”
“And if they go separate ways?” asked Katherine.
“You hope they will,” the Baron replied, and shot Katherine a disapproving look. “Then put two tails on them.”
“With Putin’s attempts to take over the Crimea, and probably the Ukraine, it might have worked out better that Putin wasn’t assassinated. Maybe the attempt reminded him of his mortality, and gave him that little push he needed to start rebuilding the Soviet Empire. Perhaps starting another Cold War,” suggested Katherine.
“Are you saying that to soften the fact that Jacques failed, or because you see history unfolding?”
“History unfolding, of course.”
“Good. Don’t get too attached to young Jacques. He still hasn’t proven himself to me.”
“Could he ever?”
“Don’t get smart with me young woman.”
“No father.” Katherine was at the same time relieved that her father was willing to continue to give Jacques another opportunity to prove himself, and furious at him for his obvious attraction to Charmaine.
Katherine started to leave her father’s office when the telephone rang. She turned and waited to see if the call involved her.
“What!” he exclaimed. “Are you sure!” The Baron listened to whatever was being said, then replied, “Thank you,” and slammed the receiver down.
“What is it, Father?”
“Professor Jaekel is in custody.” The Baron threw his lit cigar against the wall in a fit of rage.
Katherine waited for the next shoe to drop.
The Baron stood up, and said, “I can’t afford to have unknown quantities in the equations,” to his bodyguard. “Mister Jacques has to go.”
“Yes, sir.”
Katherine approached her Father, “Let me do it.”
The Baron, seldom surprised by anything Katherine did, or said, looked at Katherine, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am. If he is some sort of spy, and took advantage of both of us, then I would like the satisfaction of taking him out of the equation, as you so eloquently put it.”
“If you’re sure,” the Baron smiled a dubious smile.
“I’ll need some clean up assistance from our friend here,” she replied, nodding to the thug still standing next to the Baron.
“Of course my dear. Of course.”
The henchmen said, “I have a request.”
“What’s that?” asked Katherine.
“I insist you don’t make a big bloody mess like you did with the last pilot, since I have to clean up after you.”
“How about a small mess.”
The henchman shrugged his shoulders and looked to the Baron.
“She’ll only make a small mess,” the Baron replied sardonically.
Forty Five
Jacques took charmaine to the Deutsches Museum, the largest science and technology museum in the world. He showed her many of the exhibits, including Rudolf Diesel’s original engine, and an aircraft constructed by the Wright brothers. Charmaine seemed to enjoy the exhibits, but became more cheerful at dinner, at the Hofbrauhaus. The delicious German food, the party atmosphere, with music and dancing lightened her mood, much to Jacques’ delight.
That evening, Charmaine stood in the doorway of the adjoining hotel rooms, and said, “I’m very tired, and have a lot on my mind, Jacques. I need a good night’s rest. Please don’t take offense.”
“Our adventures these past few days have been very unusual and taxing. I appreciate your honesty. We need to figure out what our day to day life will be like before we can move on, so don’t be concerned.” Jacques’ heart tugged at him. He had genuine feelings for Charmaine, a normal life span female. He knew the danger associated with getting too close to a normal life span female, but didn’t care. He almost wished he could be normal, and not semi-immortal. He wouldn’t wish semi-immortality on Charmaine.
Charmaine smiled, and said, “Well, good night.”
“Good night,” Jacques replied.
Charmaine closed the adjoining door, but Jacques didn’t hear the bolt close on her side, so he didn’t bother to bolt the door on his side.
Jacques returned to his travel bag on the bed, collected his toiletries, and placed them on the bathroom counter.
‘Knock, knock.’
Jacques wondered who could be knocking on his door at this time of night. He went to the door, looked out the peephole, and saw a fish eye view of Katherine in a full length fur coat. He opened the door, and said, “What brings you to my room tonight?”
She opened her coat to reveal she had on only a bright pink bra and panties, “Aren’t you going to let a lady in out of the cold?”
The old adage, ‘if a woman says she is a lady, or a man says he is a leader, they are probably neither,’ crossed Jacques mind, but he opened the door, and replied, “Of course, come on in,” and let Katherine into his room.
Katherine strode in as though she owned the place, her long honey blonde hair fell down beyond the fur collar, her long shapely legs showed through the unbuttoned lower half of her coat. She said in her sultriest voice, “I thought you might need some company tonight.” The aloofness in her father’s office that morning seemed to have been replaced with guile and seduction. “My father was kind of hard on you today.”
She wrapped her arms around Jacques’ waist, pressed her body against his and kicked the door closed with one foot. She dropped her purse to the floor and kissed him on the lips like a long lost lover. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said with a catlike purr. She maneuvered him toward the bed, and when they reached the side, she gave him a shove and they fell onto the bed in each other’s arms. She allowed her coat to open revealing her buxom bosoms, taut midriff, and long shapely legs in all of their glory.
Jacques let her continue her seduction without encouragement, or discouragement. Her forwardness felt more predatory than romantic, and raised a red flag. He allowed her to start removing his clothes, but was not emotionally drawn to her. She seemed to have her own agenda, and oblivious to his indifference. Perhaps he was only an object, standing in for whoever, or whatever, she really wanted. He gave into her lusts. She was powerful in her desires and willingness to take all the initiative. Jacques hoped Charmaine would not change her mind and decide to join him in the night. He wished he had bolted his side of the adjoining rooms.
Katherine, spent and exhausted, dropped off into a deep and noisy sleep, sprawled out over the bed in such a way that Jacques would have to have physical contact with her body if he wanted to sleep on the bed.
Jacques was too tired to move to the couch, or turn off the night stand light on her side of the bed. He drifted off to sleep with his back to the bed hogging Kat. He woke, with some sound disturbing his sleep, to discover Katherine standing naked at the foot of the bed with a pistol in her right hand aimed at his chest.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Don’t move,” Katherine threatened, waving the pistol like an amateur mugger.
“Why are you doing this? I thought we had something going?”
“If you consider letting you have me, on a moment’s notice, as having something going on, then I suppose so, but I don’t think you care that much about me.”
“That’s not true. I’m just tired.”
“I’ll bet you wouldn’t be so tired if that little Russian tart was here.”
“We’re just friends. We went through a lot together these past few days.”
“You’re enjoyable, if not romantic, but this is my father’s decision. He’s decided you’re more of a liability than an asset.”
Jacques noticed the connecting door was slightly ajar. Hopefully, Charmaine decided to join him after all and heard Katherine
’s threat. He knew his best option was to keep her talking as long as possible, and hoped Charmaine would come to his rescue.
“I’ve shown your father my loyalty on two suicide missions. It’s not my fault if circumstances conspired to foil two almost impossible tasks. What do I have to do, get myself killed to prove my loyalty?”
“If it was up to me, I’d give you another chance, and not just because of your manly prowess, but father is the boss. So, sorry, this is goodbye.”
Kat aimed the pistol at Jacques head, but as she pulled the trigger she fell forward and hit her forehead on the edge of the bed. The gun went off and the bullet went into the mattress within inches of Jacques’ left shin.
Jacques leaped from the bed and grabbed Kat’s pistol before she could fire off another round. Charmaine had her hands around Kat’s neck trying to strangle her to death. The two of them wrestled Kat to the floor. Charmaine squeezed Kat’s throat until Kat passed out from lack of oxygen.
Jacques checked Kat’s breathing and heartbeat. She was alive. Jacques was relieved that Charmaine hadn’t strangled her to death.
“She’s not dead. I put a sleeper hold on her,” Charmaine stated defensively.
“So I see.” Jacques picked the still unconscious Kat off the floor and laid her naked body face down on the bed.
Charmaine turned the room lights on. She noticed the sexy lingerie on the floor, picked up the bra and panties, and muttered, “Tsk, tsk,” in disapproval.
Charmaine tied Kat’s arms behind her back with her bra, and her ankles together with her thong panties.
Jacques picked his boxer shorts and long pants off the floor and put them on in silence.
“What do you suggest we do with her?” Charmaine asked. . . “I could suggest several options.”
Jacques, embarrassed to be caught in such awkward circumstances, replied, “It’s obvious I can’t go back to work for the Baron . . . and we’re not going to kill Katherine. We’re clearing out. Get your stuff.”
Charmaine hesitated, then went to her room to gather up her belongings.
Jacques dumped the contents of Kat’s coat out onto the bed. Her cell phone, and a small clutch purse fell out of the pockets. The clutch purse contained her car keys, a small amount of cash, a Visa card and a lipstick. He didn’t have time to capture her contacts out of her phone, so he put it in his pocket.
Charmaine returned to Jacques’ room dressed to leave, with her packed bag in hand.
Jacques finished dressing, collected his belongings from the dresser drawers and the bathroom, and dumped them in his travel bag. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s get out of here before she comes to,” Jacques bundled Kat’s coat under one arm and headed for the door with his travel bag. He looked through the peep hole, but didn’t see anyone in range of view. When he opened the door a pistol was thrust against his ribs from the side of the door. Without thinking, Jacques knocked the gun arm down.
The Baron’s henchman pounced on Jacques. They fell back into the hotel room at Charmaine’s feet. Katherine’s pistol fell out of Jacques’ pocket. The henchman tried to overpower Jacques with his bull like strength.
Jacques and the henchman grappled and rolled about on the floor. Jacques struggled to wrest the pistol away from the henchman, but the man held onto the gun with a viselike grip. It was all Jacques could do to keep the pistol aimed away from his body. The henchman gained position on top of Jacques and brought all the force of his powerful arms to point the pistol at Jacque’s face. Suddenly, the henchman dropped down unconscious on top of Jacques. Jacques shoved the henchman off of himself and jumped to his feet.
Charmaine had cracked the henchman over the head with Kat’s pistol hard enough for a trickle of blood to flow down the side of his face. “Now what?” she asked.
“Thanks for taking him out.”
“You’re welcome.”
Jacques strode to the door and looked up and down the hallway. Sitting next to the door was a metal suitcase. He brought the case into the room and closed the door. Fortunately, due to the wee hours, no one had strolled by and noticed the commotion.
Jacques entered ‘1-2-3-4’ into the case’s thumbwheel combination lock and the case popped open. Inside, he and Charmaine found torture devices, three sets of handcuffs, and an assortment of syringes, vials and needles.
Charmaine commented, “He seems to have been ready for an evening of entertainment at your expense.” She selected two sets of handcuffs from the case. She untied the bra from Kat’s wrist and clamped one set of handcuff’s on in place of the bra, and clamped the second set on the still unconscious henchman’s wrists.
Jacques fished through the henchman’s pockets and found a cell phone, car keys, and a wallet with a small amount of cash, but no ID. Jacques pocketed the man’s cell phone. Two phones should provide better Intel than one, especially if one was Kat’s and the other was the Baron’s thug.
Charmaine took the third set of handcuffs from the case, and said, “Help me lay these two back to back on the floor and let’s link them together.”
Jacques retrieved the still unconscious Katherine from the bed. He thought, how could a woman so beautiful, be so evil. He laid her on the floor naked back to back next to the henchman, and Charmaine cuffed their cuffs together.
Katherine regained consciousness and started to scream, but before she could raise the dead Charmaine struck her on the head with the henchman’s pistol. Then she stuffed Kat’s tossed aside panties into Kat’s mouth to keep her quiet.
To further hamper Kat, or the henchman, from following them, Jacques pulled off the henchman’s trousers and boxer shorts, and stuffed them under his arm along with Kat’s coat and clothes.
Charmaine pocketed Kat’s pistol and handed the henchman’s pistol, a standard .45-caliber, to Jacques.
Without speaking, Jacques left the room with Charmaine in tow. They took the elevator to the parking garage where Jacques stuffed the coat, trousers and boxer shorts in the trash receptacle next to the elevator doors.
They drove directly to the Munich airport and booked flights to Dulles Airport, outside Washington, DC. The passports they had been given when they bailed out over Turkey still seemed to work. They spoke only the necessary courtesies throughout the flight. Jacques hoped the messy encounter with Katherine wouldn’t do permanent damage to his relationship with Charmaine.
He regretted ever getting involved with Katherine. When he first met Katherine she seemed like an excellent way to get into the Baron’s, as well as the Select’s, inner circle. After all, that was his job, but he had forgotten the old adage, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,’ especially an evil woman. He hoped he could get back into Charmaine’s good graces. He would have to build trust with her again. Even though he was originally French, and had lived through countless romantic, platonic, and un-platonic relationships, over 900 plus years, he might have lost a relationship that was important to him.
As they approached the taxi stand outside the Dulles airport, Charmaine asked, “Where are we going?”
“To my apartment if that’s alright.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Until I can figure out what is a good idea, that’s the best I’ve got.”
Forty Six
The iron gate swung open, and Kurt drove his Land Rover up the drive to the stately mansion owned by medical researcher, professor, and doctor, Damon Ehrlich. Kurt didn’t want to visit Doctor Ehrlich, but Aloisia’s hold on him was stronger than his abhorrence for his father’s research. He parked the Land Rover in the turnaround, stepped out, walked around to Aloisia’s side, and opened the door for her, overcompensating for his suppressed anger.
As they approached the front door, a scholarly looking gentleman greeted them in the open doorway. “Hello,” he greeted, “welcome to my humble home.” He reached out and shook Kurt’s hand, then hugged Aloisia like a long lost granddaughter. He led them int
o an expansive foyer where a large crystal chandelier hung over their heads, and a spiral staircase led to the second floor. Two open areas, one to the left, the other to the right, led to large rooms on either side of the foyer. Doctor Ehrlich led them to the right into a grand living room with a fireplace large enough to walk into, surrounded by three four-person couches that appeared to be seldom used.
Kurt sized up Doctor Ehrlich immediately. A researcher, a professor, and a doctor who was not a real doctor, who probably lived off grants until he signed on with the Select to do their dirty work. A doctor who would serve better as a lab assistant than a lead researcher. A research doctor incapable of doing anything original. Kurt’s brash assessment assumed that Doctor Ehrlich’s pleasant demeanor couldn’t cover up the fact that he was a man who was out of his depth. Kurt intended to prove Ehrlich’s incompetence as quickly as possible, and be on his way.
Ehrlich sat on one couch, and said, “Please sit. Make yourselves comfortable. I understand the Baron has sent you to assess my progress on Karl Brandt’s research.”
“That’s our understanding, also,” replied Kurt, barely restraining his annoyance.
“My father has requested that we not only assess your progress, but assist you if necessary.” Aloisia addressed the professor directly, without looking at Kurt.
Kurt stared at Aloisia, she was going to anger him if she wasn’t careful. He did not want to get involved in Doctor Ehrlich’s research. Aloisia’s actions of the past few months had almost allayed Kurt’s suspicions about her motives, and her involvement with the Select, but her response to the professor brought his concerns back to the forefront.
“I’ve studied all of Karl’s and Rolf’s research notes, and been able to duplicate many of their results. I only have laboratory animals for experimental subjects, so I can only do a portion of the trials. I feel under a great deal of pressure already from the Baron and other members of his group. I’m not the genius your father and grandfather were . . . I mean that your father still is.” Ehrlich paused, and gave Kurt a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry about the loss of your grandfather, and the incarceration of your father.”
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