Purdue apologized for Nina’s uttering, although he could not have given a better low blow. “Just keep her well guarded, son,” the veteran growled. “She is small enough for a shallow grave in the desert where her voice would be made still for good. And not the best archaeologist would be able to analyze her bones even in a month.” With that he started towards his waiting Jeep on the opposite side of the large flat apron of the airport at Lossiemouth, but before he could go far Purdue stepped in front of him.
“Colonel Yimenu, I might owe your country recompense, but do not for a moment think you can threaten my friends and walk away. I will not tolerate death threats against my people — or myself for that matter — so please, a word of advice,” Purdue seethed in a serene tone that implied slow-burning fury. His long index finger lifted and stayed afloat between his face and Yimenu’s. “Do not tread on the smooth cover of my turf. You will find that you are so light as to elude the spikes below.”
Patrick suddenly shouted, “Right, everyone! Get ready for take-off! I want all my people cleared and accounted for before we close up, Colin!” He barked orders without ceasing, so that Yimenu felt too annoyed to continue his threats against Purdue. Soon after, he was hastily tramping to his vehicle under the cloudy cold of Scottish skies, tugging at his jacket to fight the chill.
In mid-command, Patrick stopped shouting and looked at Purdue.
“I heard that, you know?” he said. “You are a suicidal son of a bitch, David, talking down to a king before you are due in his bear pen.” He stepped closer to Purdue. “But that was the coolest fucking thing I have ever seen, mate.”
With a pat on the billionaire’s back, Patrick continued to address one of his agents to sign off on a sheet attached to the man’s clipboard. Purdue wanted to smile as he bowed forward slightly on entering the plane, but the realness and crude manner of Yimenu’s threat on Nina was on his mind. It was yet another thing he would have to keep his eye on at the same time as keeping track of Karsten, MI6’s dealings, keeping Patrick in the dark about his boss, and keeping them all alive while they replaced the Holy Box.
“Everything okay?” Sam asked Purdue when he sat down.
“Perfect,” Purdue replied in his light manner. “So far we’ve not been shot.” He looked at Nina, who cowered a little now that she’d calmed her temper.
“He asked for it,” she muttered.
For the most part, the ensuing take-off took place in conversational white noise. Sam and Purdue were discussing territories they’d visited before on assignments and tourist trips, while Nina put her feet up for a snooze.
Patrick was going over the itinerary and noted the coordinates of the temporary archaeological village where Purdue last fled for his life. For all his military training and knowledge of global laws, Patrick was subconsciously nervous about their arrival there. After all, the security of the expedition party was his responsibility.
While silently regarding the seemingly jovial exchange between Purdue and Sam, Patrick could not help but be haunted by the program he found Purdue rushing through when he came into the Wrichtishousis laboratory complex under the ground floor. He had no idea why he was paranoid about it at all, because Purdue had explained to him that the system was designed to separate certain areas of his premises by remote control activation, or something of that sort. He had never been one for technical jargon anyway, so he reckoned Purdue was touching up his home security to keep out any agents who had learned the security codes and protocols while the mansion was under MI6 lockdown. Fair enough, he thought in conclusion, a bit unsatisfied with his own validation.
Over the next few hours, the mighty Hercules roared its way across Germany and Austria, proceeding on its taxing journey down to Greece and the Mediterranean Sea.
“Does this thing ever land to refuel?” Nina asked.
Purdue smiled and shouted, “This Lockheed breed can go on and on and on. That’s why I love these big machines!”
“Aye, that answers my layman’s inquiry completely, Purdue,” she said to herself, just shaking her head.
“We should hit the African shores in just under another fifteen hours, Nina,” Sam tried to give her a better idea.
“Sam, please don’t use that colorful phrase ‘hitting the shore’ round about now. Ta,” she moaned, to his amusement.
“Safe as houses, this thing,” Patrick smiled and patted Nina on the thigh to reassure her, but he didn’t realize where he put his hand until he h’d already done so. Quickly he removed his hand, looking mortified, but Nina just laughed. Instead, she put her hand on his thigh with a mock serious, “It’s alright, Paddy. My jeans will prevent any kinky business.”
Relieved, he shared a hearty chuckle with Nina. Although he was more for a docile and demure type of woman, Patrick could understand Sam and Purdue’s deep attraction to the feisty historian and her forward, unafraid approach.
The sun had set over most of the local time zones just after they took off, so by the time they reached Greece, they were flying in the night sky. Sam checked his watch and discovered that he was the only one still awake. Whether by boredom or catching up on rest for what was to come, the rest of the party was asleep in their seats by now. Only the pilot said anything, exclaiming in awe to the co-pilot, “Do you see that, Roger?”
“Oh, there?” the co-pilot asked and pointed ahead of them. “Yeah, I see it!”
Sam’s curiosity was a rapid reflex and he quickly looked ahead to where the man pointed. His face lit up at the beauty of it and he watched intently until it disappeared into the darkness. “God, I wish Nina could see that,” he mumbled as he sat back down.
“What?” Nina asked, still half-asleep when she heard her name. “What? See what?”
“Oh, no big deal, I suppose,” Sam replied. “It was just a beautiful vision.”
“Of what?” she asked, sitting up and wiping her eyes.
Sam smiled, wishing he could film with his eyes so that he could share such things with her. “A brilliantly bright shooting star, love. Just a super bright falling star.”
19
Chasing the Dragon
“Another star fell, Ofar!” Penekal exclaimed as he looked up from the alert on his phone sent through by one of their people in Yemen.
“I saw,” the weary old man replied. “To trace the Magician, we’ll have to wait and see what sort of illness befalls humankind next. A very cautious and high-priced test, I’m afraid.”
“Why do you say that?” Penekal asked.
Ofar shrugged. “Well, because with the state of the world these days — the chaos, the insanity, the ludicrous mismanagement of basic human morality — it’s quite hard to determine which tribulations befall mankind apart from those evils already present, don’t you think?”
Penekal agreed, but they had to do something to keep the Magician from harvesting more celestial power. “I’m going to contact the Freemasons in Sudan. They must know if this is one of their people. Don’t worry,” he halted Ofar’s impending protest to the idea, “I will inquire tactfully.”
“You cannot let them know that we know something is going on, Penekal. If they as much as get a sniff…,” Ofar warned.
“They will not, my friend,” Penekal replied sternly. They’d been standing vigil in their observatory for over two days now, exhausted, taking turns sleeping while looking up at the skies for any unusual deviations in the constellations. “I’ll be back before midday, hopefully with some answers.”