“Okay,” Sean said, putting up one hand. He held out the rolled piece of vellum with the other. “Take it easy. Here’s the scroll. Just don’t hurt anyone.”
Han-Jae flashed a devilish, toothy grin. “I thought you might come around.” He motioned with a flick of his head for Shaved Head to grab the scroll.
The henchman did so with caution, as if he was taking a piece of meat from the mouth of a crocodile. As soon as he snatched it from Sean’s grip, he stepped back, wary that the American might try something.
Han-Jae reached out his hand and waited until his assistant had placed it in his palm.
“What does it say?” he asked.
“We don’t know,” Tommy said. “We haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. We were trying to get out as fast as we could.”
“Ah. Very well. We’ll all know soon enough, won’t we?”
Han-Jae carelessly shoved the scroll into a jacket pocket and waved his weapon at the four companions. “Now get moving. It’s time for a little family reunion.”
Chapter 32
The drive to the outskirts of Rome took more than a half hour. Traffic seemed ever-present in the ancient city, and the laws of the road were more like guidelines.
Mopeds and motorcycles zipped in and out of lanes, weaving between slower vehicles in a dangerous dance of speed and guts.
The four captives had been thrown into the back of a conversion van — probably a rental. Guns were kept trained on them at all times in case they considered jumping out the back door. That idea wouldn’t have been prudent considering a violent death by car tire probably awaited anyone foolhardy enough to try it. So everyone sat as still as possible, contemplating how they were going to get away.
The van pulled off the main road and into an industrial area much like the one the companions had seen in Cologne, although the buildings were sparse, unlike in the German town.
Sean craned his neck to see out the windshield. A tanned brick building covered in ivy was just ahead. It was surrounded by a chain-link fence with a warped gate bent just enough for the van to get through. A tall smokestack stood off to the side of what appeared to be the main building.
“At least they didn’t cover our heads,” Tommy said. He’d been silent during the entire drive out of the city.
“That’s a bad thing, buddy,” Sean said. “When they don’t care if you see where they’re taking you, it means you’re not getting out alive.”
June’s eyes welled, and she wiped her nose.
“Oh, it’s okay,” Tommy said. “He didn’t mean it.” He turned to Sean with an angry look on his face. “Did you?”
“No,” Sean said in an unconvincing tone. “I was just joking around. It’s going to be fine. We’ll be okay.”
Tommy put his arm around June to console her.
Sean and Adriana exchanged glances. Neither of them actually thought they were going to die, but they didn’t know how they were going to get out, either.
The van bumped along the gravel road, jostling the occupants sitting on the floor in the back. The driver slowed when he neared the gate and carefully navigated the vehicle around the damaged blockade. He drove around the brick building to the side where a metal door hung open. A rusty padlock hung from a latch near the doorknob.
When the driver brought the van to a stop, Han-Jae turned around and faced the passengers with a menacing gaze.
“We’re here.”
The back door flung open, and the Americans were herded out, through the door of the foundry, and into a huge space where old machinery sat silent, rusting for the better part of some decades. The ceiling was at least fifty feet high at its zenith. In some spots, the roof had rotted away or collapsed, letting in sunlight that shone down as bright spots on the concrete floor.
Sean took inventory of the area. “Reminds me of that factory in—”
“Quiet,” Shaved Head ordered, jamming the muzzle of his gun into Sean’s back. “Keep moving.”
Sean didn’t think pressing the man’s patience was a good idea, so he hushed for the moment.
They were ushered through the cavernous factory space and down an old set of stairs into the smelting areas below. An old light hanging in the stairwell allowed them to see where they were going, albeit barely. Tommy nearly slipped on one of the steps but caught his balance on the railing. He was lucky they hadn’t bound their wrists, otherwise he would have tumbled painfully down the steps to the bottom.
Once they were in the basement, the group turned left into a four-hundred-square-foot room with a few naked lights burning in the ceiling. The power would have been off for years, which meant the North Koreans had circumvented the problem, possibly with a generator somewhere.
They found a man standing in the middle of the room, holding a gun aimed at two other figures sitting on the floor with their backs pressed against the wall.
Han-Jae walked over to the man and said something to him in their native tongue. Sean and the other prisoners didn’t understand what he said, but by the man’s body language and his sudden disappearance up the stairs it was a good assumption that the guy was being sent up to guard the entrance.
Buzz-Cut shoved Tommy in the back, and he stumbled toward the couple in the shadows against the wall.
“Time for you three to get reacquainted,” Han-Jae said.
He pushed Sean in the back and then corralled June and Adriana into the corner near the others.
Tommy stopped a few feet short of the older couple. The woman had gray hair that fell down past her shoulders. In spite of her age, she had a natural beauty that would have been the envy of any woman. Her eyes were kind but tired.
The man had a head of gray hair as well, and a worn, wrinkled face. He still had a strong jaw and a rugged handsomeness like a lumberjack. The gray beard on his face helped complete that imagery.
Their clothes were worn down and old, probably given to them by the general years ago.
They both looked up as Tommy stood over them.
Up until that point, he still hadn’t really believed his parents were alive. It was impossible. For so long he’d accepted the fact that they were gone, taken tragically before their time.
Now there was no denying it as he stared into the faces he’d not seen for nearly two decades.
Tears streaked down his face as he lost control of his emotions and collapsed in front of them.
“I… I don’t believe it.”
They both reached out and enveloped him in their arms.
“Son,” Tommy’s father said. “I thought we’d never see you again.”
His mother was crying too hard to say anything.
Sean watched, fighting back tears of his own. He’d grown up with the Schultzes. When they died, or supposedly died, it was like he’d lost his second parents. Seeing them again brought back so many memories, and so many regrets.
“I… I don’t understand,” Tommy said. “I thought you were dead.”
His mother shook her head while she sobbed. “No, son. We… we had to stay alive… if for no other reason than to see you again.”
June cried openly at the scene. Even Adriana — normally as hard as a diamond — wept at the sight of the reunion.
“You see?” Han-Jae said. “I kept my end of the bargain. Your parents are alive. Now tell me what this means.”
He pulled out the paper and held it up to the light, unrolling it to see what was written on the ancient animal skin. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the vellum. Then his head cocked to the side, and he started laughing.
Sean turned around and faced the three gunmen. “What’s so funny?” he asked, wiping the tears from his face.
“You know, I thought we might need your help interpreting whatever was on this thing.” He held up the scroll. “Turns out, we don’t need any of you. This scroll tells us the exact location of the sword.”