“My God, sir,” she uttered, “can I get you some painkillers?”
“No,” he answered, “but I would very much appreciate a slice of dry toast and sweet black coffee. This is the worst hangover I have ever had.”
“You are not hungover, sir,” Charles said. “As far as I know the small amount of alcohol you consumed is not capable of rendering you unconscious in such a manner that you could not regain consciousness even during a midnight alarm raid.”
“Excuse me?” Purdue frowned at the butler.
“Where is she?” Charles asked plainly. His tone was stern, almost insubordinate, and that was a sure sign to Purdue that there was trouble.
“In the shower. Why?” Purdue replied. “I told her I am going to throw up in the lower toilet, because I felt nauseated.”
“Nice excuse, sir,” Lillian congratulated her boss while she got the toasted plugged in.
Purdue stared at her as if she was silly. “I did throw up because I do feel nauseated, Lily. What did you think? You thought I would lie to her just to entertain this conspiracy you all have against her?”
Charles snorted loudly at the shock of Purdue’s persistent oblivion. Lillian was just as upset about it, but she had to keep things relaxed before Purdue decided to dismiss his staff in a fit of distrust. “Of course not,” she told Purdue. “I was just jesting.”
“Don’t think that I do not follow what is going on in my own house,” Purdue warned. “You have all made it clear on several occasions that you disapprove of Lilith’s presence here, but you forget one thing. I am the master of this house and I know everything that happens between these walls.”
“Except when you are passed out from Rohypnol while your security detail and house staff have to contain the fire threat in your home,” Charles said. His utterance earned him a slap on the arm from Lillian, but it was too late. The floodgates of the loyal butler’s equanimity had been breached. Purdue’s face went ashen, even more than its already pasty complexion. “I apologize for being so forward, sir, but I will not stand idly by while some second-rate wench infiltrate my workplace and home to undermine the work of my employer.” Charles was as astonished by his outburst as the housekeeper and Purdue were. The butler looked at Lillian’s gaping expression and shrugged, “In for a penny, in for a pound, Lily.”
“I cannot,” she lamented. “I need this job.”
Purdue was so taken aback by Charles’ insults that he was quite literally speechless. The butler gave Purdue an indifferent look and added, “I regret to have to speak like this, sir, but I cannot allow that woman to endanger your life any further.”
Purdue stood up, feeling as if he walked into a sledgehammer, but he had something to say. “How dare you? You are in no position to make such accusations!” he thundered at the butler.
“He is only concerned for your wellbeing, sir,” Lillian tried, wringing her hands respectfully.
“Shut it, Lillian,” both men barked at her simultaneously, sending her into a crying frenzy. The sweet mannered housekeeper ran through the backdoor, not even bothering to complete her employer’s breakfast request.
“Look what you have caused, Charles,” Purdue sneered.
“It was not my doing, sir. The cause of all this discord is standing right behind you,” he told Purdue. Purdue looked behind him. Lilith stood there, looking like a puppy being kicked. Her subliminal manipulation of Purdue’s feelings knew no boundaries. She looked deeply hurt and terribly weak, shaking her head.
“I am so sorry, David. I tried to get them to like me, but it seems they just do not want to see you happy. I will be gone in thirty minutes. Just let me pack my things,” she said, turning to leave.
“Don’t you move, Lilith!” Purdue ordered. He looked at Charles, his blue eyes piercing the butler with disappointment and resentment. Charles had reached the end of his tether. “Her… or us… sir.”
25
Calling in a Favor
Nina felt like a brand new woman after she had slept for seventeen hours in Sam’s hotel room. Sam, on the other hand, was exhausted, having hardly gotten any shuteye. After the disclosure of Dr. Jacobs’ secrets, he reckoned that the world was heading for disaster, no matter how good people tried to avert the atrocities of egocentric pricks like Tuft and McFadden. He hoped that he was not mistaken about Olga. It took him hours to convince Kasper Jacobs that there was hope, and Sam dreaded the hypothetical moment they should discover Olga’s body.
They joined with Kasper in the corridor of his floor.
“How did you sleep, Dr. Jacobs?” Nina asked. “I have to apologize for not being downstairs last night.”
“No, please do not worry, Dr. Gould,” he smiled. “Sam took care of me with age old Scottish hospitality, when it should have been I showing you two a Belgian welcome. After that much whiskey it was easy to sleep, even though the slumber sea was full of monsters.”
“I can relate,” Sam muttered.
“Don’t worry, Sam, I will help you all the way,” she consoled him, running her hand through his wild dark hair. “You did not shave this morning.”
“I figured that a rougher look is befitting of Siberia,” he shrugged as they stepped into the elevator. “Besides, it will keep my face warmer… and less recognizable.”
“Good thinking,” Kasper agreed lightheartedly.
“What is going to happen when we get to Moscow, Sam?” Nina asked in the canned silence of the lift.
“I will tell you on the plane. Only three hours to Russia,” he replied. His dark eyes shot up to the CCTV camera in the lift. “Cannot risk lip-reading.”
She followed his gaze and nodded. “Aye.”
Kasper delighted in the natural rhythm of his two Scottish associates, but it only reminded him of Olga and what terrible fate she may have faced already. He could not wait to step onto Russian soil, even if she had been taken elsewhere than what Sam Cleave speculated. As long as he could get even with Tuft, who was an integral part of the summit through Siberia.
“What airfield are they using?” Nina asked. “I cannot imagine they would use Domodedovo for such important people.”
“They are not. They are using a private airstrip to the northwest, called Koschei,” Sam elucidated. “I heard that at the opera theater when I slipped in, remember? It is privately owned by one of the Russian members of the International Atomic Energy Agency.”
“That smells suspicious,” Nina scoffed.
“It is,” Kasper affirmed. “Many of the members of the agency, as with the United Nations and the European Union, the Bilderberg delegates… are all in allegiance with the Order of the Black Sun. People refer to the New World Order, but nobody realizes that there is a far more sinister organization at work. Like a demon, it possesses these more familiar global organizations, and uses them as scapegoats before disembarking their vessels after the fact.”
“Interesting analogy,” Nina remarked.
“Actually, it is spot-on,” Sam agreed. “There is something innately dark about the Black Sun, something beyond global domination and elitist rule. It is almost esoteric in nature, using science to evolve.”
“That makes one think,” Kasper added, as the elevator doors opened, “that such a deep rooted and lucrative body would be practically impossible to destroy.”
“Aye, but we will keep growing on their genitals like a tenacious virus for as long as we have the power to make them itch and burn,” Sam smiled and winked, leaving the other two in stitches.
“Thanks for that, Sam,” Nina giggled as she tried to recover. “Speaking of interesting analogies!”