“He got rid of that part of the problem, yes.” Lindsey looked thoughtful for a moment. Mornay and Carroll gave each other a cautious sideways glance. They may have actually believed they would get away with it.
“Good,” Carroll chimed in. “So things will continue to move forward?”
He looked at Carroll then Mornay. “Come, Gentlemen. I have convened a meeting of the Order and need you both to attend. We must leave at once.”
The sudden request caught the other two off guard. They both looked at each other with a combined expression of confusion and relief. “Lead the way,” Carroll said as he stood simultaneously with Mornay.
“You will ride with these men here,” Lindsey said flatly.
“What about our cars?” Mornay protested.
Alexander waved a dismissive hand. “We will take care of them.” With that, he led the way back out the door and down the hall, followed closely by the two men. The bodyguards formed around the two as they exited the room.
Carroll looked around nervously. There were no other people in sight. As they rounded the corner towards the lounge, they noticed that it too was completely vacant. He said nothing but became immediately concerned about the odd lack of patronage. That time of day was usually fairly busy for the club. The group made their way out a side door where many of The Galleon’s members entered and exited. It was another way the club provided anonymity to its valued clientele.
Darkness had fallen on the city and a cold chill burst through the doorway. Once through the heavy, metal doors the group was greeted by three black, GMC Yukons. The first two vehicles had guard standing next to them. The back passenger doors of the SUVs were open, awaiting their passengers.
As the group neared the parked convoy Lindsey suddenly stopped and turned around, facing his two vice-presidents. He said nothing for a few seconds and the two men stood, wondering what the awkward moment was for. They never saw the guards come up from behind and yank the hoods down over their heads. Each man was grabbed by two guards and their hands were bound quickly behind their backs. Before the unwitting adepts could even force a scream of protest they had been thrown into the backseats of the two vehicles.
Lindsey nodded to the drivers and as soon as a guard had closed the back door the trucks took off and disappeared around the corner at the other end of the alley.
Ten men sat silently in the small auditorium. The room was designed like a half circle, made from mountain stone. Walls were lit with weathered brass candle sconces. Most of the light, however, emanated from an iron chandelier that hung from the domed ceiling. Unlike the candles on the walls, it was powered by electricity. The seating area was much like a surgical observation deck, about seven or eight feet above the sand covered floor below. All of the faces were as blank as the stone that surrounded them.
Their leader, Alexander Lindsey appeared in a doorway on the floor level and walked across the sand to the center of the room. He stood next to something that would seem odd in any facility save for the New York Stock exchange. A large, bronze bull standing about six feet high and eight feet long was in the middle of the small auditorium. Underneath it, a pit of logs had been built reaching just short of the figure’s belly.
Lindsey looked around the room before he spoke. “Today,” he began, “we must do something that has not been done in a long time. It has been many decades since one of our own has betrayed us. Yet today I present to you two who have directly opposed our leadership and our mission.”
As he finished the sentence, two guards in black hoods brought out the two prisoners.
Their hands and feet had been shackled with chains and their clothes had been stripped down to their underwear. Hoods covered the men’s heads, shielding their faces from view but all those in attendance knew who they were. Carroll and Mornay were the two highest ranking officials in the Order right beneath the Imperator himself. As adepts, they were charged with carrying out any directives the leader imposed. What they had done was treason and everyone present knew the consequences. As Imperator, only Lindsey had the power to execute another member of the Order. In a savvy maneuver, he’d actually allowed the subject to be put to a vote to the other members of the council. The evidence had been compelling. The vote had been unanimous.
Both subjects were positioned directly in front of the brass bull and their hoods removed.
Carroll’s desperate eyes searched the small audience for some hint of mercy. “Please!” he begged. “You can’t do this! This is murder! Murder!” The faces in the observation area were unmoved. One of the guards jammed an elbow into the sobbing man’s kidneys, dropping him to his knees and ending the pleading.
Lindsey stared at them. “You knew the consequences of your actions,” he said.
For the first time, Mornay’s face was filled with terror. He dropped to his knees in front of Lindsey. “We made a mistake. But you don’t have to do this. I’ll do anything you say, Alex. Anything.”
Desperation was in the man’s voice. As was his act of falling to his knees. Unmoved, Alexander turned and raised a hand, waving it dramatically to the council. “The council has spoken unanimously.” He paused for a moment. “So let it be done.”
“No. No!” Carroll screamed as one of the executioners opened the door on the side of the bull and pulled out a mask attached to a metal tube. His screams became muffled momentarily as the mask was slipped over the squirming man’s face and the harness tightened around the back of his head. Carroll was then shoved through the door of the beast onto a metal rack. His screams now transformed into an eerie, haunting sound coming from the mouth of the bull.
Mornay shook his head violently as the other executioner pushed him towards the device. The hooded man grabbed him by the neck and forced his head to stop moving as he slipped the mask over Albert’s nose and mouth. Satisfied that the harness was tight enough, he began to shove Mornay into the belly of the bull.
Lindsey held up his hand, stopping the executioner momentarily. He stepped close to his former adept and stared into the man’s wide, horror-filled eyes. “I told you not to call me Alex,” he whispered and then stepped back. A slow nod told the executioner what to do.
Mornay’s screams soon joined Carroll’s as they filtered through the pipes and out of the bull’s mouth.
The guards closed the side door and locked it tight, concealing the victims inside the device.
Within, the men could be heard wiggling around as their chains clanked against the inner walls. The guards then stepped to opposite sides of the fire pit and got down on one knee. Simultaneously, they reached down and picked up a long lighter from the ground and pressed the button, igniting the flame. A few seconds later, the kindling at the bottom of the pit had begun to flicker. As the logs began to catch fire, the screams became louder from the mouth of the bull until the eerie sounds echoed around the chamber.
The inside of the brazen bull had not really even begun to heat up yet. The victims were placed on a sort of shelf on the inside so that the hot sides and bottom wouldn’t burn them immediately. It was more devious to prevent such searing. The dying men’s screams would become louder as the hours progressed. Only near the end, would their voices cease. It was an excruciating way to die.