Mueller’s son checked the area where the darkness consumed the spreading beam of the front yard. The others waited with bated breath to see what the verdict was. He looked at his brothers and with a relieved expression he gave them a thumbs-up to open the door. As they rose to their feet and converged in the lobby the rain started pouring down outside, blown in sheets by the wind. The woman jumped up as the water started drenching her hair as Herr Mueller flung open the door and shouted for her to enter quickly.
“Oh thank god!” she cried, cowering in under the big old man’s arms to get into the shelter of the house. Her big blue eyes ran over the occupants in the immediate area and they stared back at the pretty woman with no small amount of attraction.
Herr Mueller closed the door and asked her what her name was. The small blond smiled shyly and checked her phone again, but it looked slightly different from the one she had been struggling with outside. She pressed the green button and exclaimed “Vier Männer!”
A split second later the window where the eldest Mueller son stood shattered, splattering his blood all over the drapes and lace curtains. Herr Mueller knew instantly that they had been betrayed and now the enemy knew their numbers. Without inhibition he landed a devastating left jab on the small woman’s jaw, dislocating it on impact. She fell limply against the mantle, the blood oozing from her nose and mouth. He shouted for his sons to drop to the floor for the ensuing firefight about to rip their home apart. But nothing happened. Instead they heard the kitchen window breaking. Herr Mueller cocked his gun and stole towards the kitchen, his two other sons in tail. The thunder showers outside clouded the all-important noises Herr Mueller needed to determine the position of his enemies and made it very difficult for him to hear from what direction they progressed.
As he and his youngest stepped through the kitchen doorway, his son was met by the jaws of a ferocious Rottweiler that came from the darkness like a living shadow, sinking its teeth into the soft flesh of his freshly shaven throat. Herr Mueller pulled his hunting knife and shoved it swiftly into the animal’s heart. With a yelp the beautiful black creature sank to the floor, pulling its target down with it. But Herr Mueller did not have time to dislodge the dog’s jaws from his son’s neck before the next one leapt through the air and landed hard on them.
Gun shots sounded loudly from the other room as the third brother stood his ground against two intruders who passed Herr Mueller and his fallen son.
It was all a haze to the old man who suffered a brutal blow to the back of the head. Unable to focus, unable to stand up, his vague vision found the bleeding woman who had betrayed them. He was pleased to see that she wasn’t moving anymore.
Chapter 10 — The Train to Weimar
Nina arrived in Germany after a two day trip from Edinburgh. To get to Weimar, she elected to take a train trip to get a feel for the country without looking down on everything. It was surprisingly cold in the mainland of Europe, but Germany was clearly having an early peak. Nina expected to see snow, but so far the towns she had passed were just prone to frigid winds and occasional downpours.
In her travel luggage, and she always travelled as light as possible, she had her best insulated boots and way too many pairs of socks. Some would say at a glance that Dr. Nina Gould was perhaps obsessed with her knitted footwear. Of all things, she preferred the alpaca variety sent to her by Padre Loredo from New Mexico, a gift which became habit after she helped him locate some old Mexican archival scripts on the Apocrypha.
Leaving the breathtaking historical churches and architecture of Erfurt after only a night of rest at a modest Bed & Breakfast, Nina embarked on her railway travel to meet Sam in Weimar. Regrettably she could not stay longer to do some sightseeing, because she had been unable to establish contact with her German friend, who she was hoping to ask to hold on to Sam’s camera until she could get there. It did not bother her that much, though, as she needed to see him, whether she wanted to admit it or not, and this was the perfect excuse. After all, did he not summon her?
Erfurt had more churches than houses, she thought. The brilliant ancient structures were definitely an architect’s wet dream, not so much more than it gave anthropologically inclined historians like her a bit of a boner. Nina smiled at her own thoughts. It was true what they say — one never really grows up past the slang and expressions of college life or youth in general, no matter what age you are or what profession has made you a community snob, an esteemed member of society.
The train’s steel on steel clacking was remarkably hypnotic, compelling Nina to lie back in her private compartment and enjoy the passing outside world through her square window.
She did not want to doze off, for fear of another nightmare or one of those annoying bouts of déjà vu she seemed to endure more and more of late. Her meds had her sleeping too much, nightmares included, so she ditched them. Thirteen hours of sleep a day was simply counter-productive in every way, she reckoned, and with or without the bad dreams, she still had to deal with the horrendous time lapses that somehow made her psychic. Like Groundhog Day, as Nina thought of it, she kept having episodes of déjà vu so vividly that she could almost pass herself off as a precognitive professional by now.
A woman’s hand appeared on the doorway of her compartment and a friendly plump face greeted her a moment later.
“Guten Tag!” the woman said cheerfully.
“Good morning.” Nina smiled wryly, not really in the mood for company.
“Do you mind if I sit here for a while? There are two men in my section who give me the creeps and I am getting off at the next station. I won’t be a bother,” she pitched to Nina in a sincere tone. A horrid turquoise windbreaker hugged her full figure, which looked comical to Nina.
“The next station is over 25 kilometers away,” Nina reminded her, more to cordially protest than to share information.
The woman sat down gratefully and replied with a smile, “I know.”
“Okay, well…I’m a smoker and…” Nina started to snap at the stranger, attempting to put her off.
“Me too! But we are not allowed to smoke on the train, didn’t you know?” she told Nina in the most patronizing tone she had ever heard.
“Yes,” Nina grunted passive aggressively, “I know that.” Irritated beyond control, Nina narrowed her eyes at the indifferent intruder and folded her arms over her chest like a disgruntled teenager and sank back into her bunk. She pulled her extra coat over her, a thick long angora wool number that made her look like a Womble when she wore it, and she gave the woman a steely look.
“If you don’t mind, I have not slept in a long time. I will be taking a nap for a while. Is that okay?” the petite historian lined her announcement with sarcasm, but the fat chick with the thick skin did not respond to her in turn with some snappy comment.
“Of course that is okay with me,” she smiled warmly and reinforced her unbearable obtuse manner with a firm grip on Nina’s forearm. The historian ground her teeth behind her closed lips, but she chose to ignore the unwelcome guest in her compartment and sleep it off. She hoped that, when she woke, they would have reached the next station and she’d be rid of her.