Satisfied that she had left a solid lead where she ripped the electrical wires from the wall to lead investigators to the symbol, Helen felt almost calm. If she died, she knew that the sharper people of law enforcement, and her friend Dave Purdue, would know exactly what fate had befallen her.
Chapter 20
Purdue’s party of explorers followed him to the vehicle he had hired from a friend of a friend in Romania. The small framed bald man, only known as Alex, brought the crooked looking minivan to them at the airport.
“Keys,” Alex smiled as he passed them to Purdue. “And he told you about the… uh…” His raised his eyebrows to gesture an unspoken feature of the vehicle Purdue would need.
“Yes, he did, Alex. Thank you very much for your help,” he winked and thrust a few hundred Euro’s into Alex’s hand, to which the diminutive Romanian thanked him warmly before leaving with his equally scurvy cousin in an inconspicuous Fiat.
“Right, people, let’s get going. If we bide our time well we can scout the surroundings while we have daylight,” he told the group.
“And then we crawl up on the place tonight?” Nina asked nonchalantly.
“Correct,” Purdue nodded with a smile. He was pleasantly taken by Nina’s enthusiasm, having no idea that she was more taken by Costa Megalos than with him or his excursion. “And Nina, your investigation of whatever Nazi-based relics we find there is as invaluable as Donovan’s analysis of all others ripe in age.”
Don proudly put his arm around Nina’s shoulder, “I got your back, girlfriend.”
Nina laughed out loud. Her addictive chuckle had everyone, even James Heidmann, giggling in unison with her.
In the cool late afternoon sunshine, they climbed into the battered-looking van, calling dibs on seats and remarking on the strong smell of coffee and garlic in parts of the vehicle. Heidmann and Purdue would take up the front and driver’s seat, respectively.
The other three just spilled onto the second and third seats. Needless to say, Nina elected to sit beside Costa in the second seat behind Don. But he could turn comfortably turn sideways to chat with them both. Most of the conversation, as they passed through the picturesque Old World charm of Ostrava, centered on the demeanor of sex workers in the city, and if there was good beer. Naturally, most of these subjects were started by Dr. Graham.
However, Nina and Costa vehemently participated in the joviality while in front Purdue picked Heidmann’s brain as to the best way of approaching without rousing suspicion. After the van had crossed through Ostrava, it deviated from the main road and turned left onto Route 56 northward to what Heidmann learned for the first time, was called a village called Markvartovice.
He knew the place only by memory, having no recollection of names from the previous time he had accompanied Tessa to the seller. Now, although he recognized the roads and surroundings well, he learned the names of the places he traversed. Purdue could see Heidmann’s usual nervousness change into something more melancholy. Seeing that the others were so preoccupied with made-up silly trivia and remarks on the kind of marijuana one could cultivate in the area, Purdue dared ask.
“You alright, old boy?”
Heidmann snapped out of his daze, “Um, yes. I’m fine, thanks. Why?”
“You just seem… sad,” Purdue mentioned, lacking a more suited word.
Heidmann glanced quickly backward to make sure the other people were not listening. Then he shrugged, “I don’t mean to sound all Nancy, but I thought that the last time I travelled through this place on this very road I still had Tessa, you know?”
Purdue nodded. “I get that completely, my friend. Look, I am not a very emotional person. I am a scientist and a logical, free thinker, but I can totally fathom your frame of mind on this. Believe it or not, I have been in that position too many times. Purgatory between what you feel and what fate is dealing. It is a bitch.”
“It certainly is,” Heidmann agreed.
Purdue looked at him, trying to find any trace of treachery or betrayal, yet he was sobered by the realization that Heidmann was perhaps just a lovelorn loser trying to be someone in the scientific community. The things he said to Costa…
“Have you and Professor Megalos met before?” Purdue just asked. Sometimes such brutal and sudden honest questions found a resolution.
Heidmann stared at Purdue for a long while before answering. In return, the playboy billionaire played dumb and just kept his eyes straight ahead, minding the back road he was driving on.
“We have never met before gathering at your house for this project, Mr. Purdue,” Heidmann said plainly.
“Dave.”
“Dave,” Heidmann repeated sheepishly. “But we are familiar with each other’s work and published theories, I suppose, which makes us pre-hate each other.”
Purdue looked at Heidmann and was pleasantly surprised to find the man actually smiling for once.
“I can relate,” Purdue grinned. “It is much the same in the world of explorers and inventors. Everything is a competition and even when two authorities are of the same mind, their theories in that argument may differ, causing unnecessary rifts. I think it is just one big measuring contest when we should be collaborating, sharing the glory, you know?”
“I agree,” Heidmann affirmed, looking out into the distance for anything about the place they were looking for. “But sometimes being ridiculed by another scholar makes it difficult to find that common ground.” He paused for a moment before remarking, “Unless you have more gold than Midas.”
Purdue knew Heidmann was referring to him, insinuating that Purdue had only amassed his popularity by paying for it, or that having money made his academic life somehow easier. Even Purdue’s innate docility and mellow demeanor were challenged by the audacity of the unknown scholar next to him, but being the more mature of the two, Purdue chalked it up to low self-esteem that provoked the condescension and defeatist humor Heidmann forced on all he felt threatened by.
“Are we there yet, Dad?” Don suddenly asked from behind them. The other two roared with laughter.
“Dr. Graham, I made it implicitly clear that will be no drinking on the job,” Purdue reprimanded humorously.
“There, Dave!” Heidmann exclaimed suddenly as they came to the site of three high heaps of debris the outskirts of Markvartovice.
“The junkyard?” Purdue asked.
“It is not a junkyard as much as a fence fashioned to obscure the warehouse on the other side,” Heidmann assured him. “The whole enclosure is made to look like an industrial graveyard to fool outsiders.”
Nina sat forward to get a better look at the high walls of rusted metal, old car wrecks and the underlying mess of twisted pipes, fence wiring, and old Cold War fuselage relics piled into macabre skeletons. She recollected scenes from old Nazi death camp footage she had used as a study tool when she did her final paper on War Criminals and the Influence of Occultism on Brutality, whereby she implicated rather the dogma of a distorted social structure forced upon the psychology of youth. Nina had always seen the convenient blame on the occult for cruelty or moral disorder as the lazy man’s argument.
“Fuck this place,” she heard Costa say to no-one in particular as Purdue slowed the vehicle, almost halting. “I don’t like it. Do you feel that?”
“Feel what?” Don asked sincerely. Nina listened but heard nothing but the idling of the van. It gave her the creeps. The vicinity was desolate and flat. A few bushes and trees had been saved, but something in the emptiness was alive… and watching.
“You don’t feel that distinct sinister vibe?” Costa asked Don and Nina.
Don looked like he sniffed the air in short blasts, but actually, he was just trying to abandon his skepticism and take in the atmosphere. Nina did nothing. She did not have to. Already when she thought the area resembled the concentration camp clips, she could feel the unease creep up on her. Something suddenly struck Nina as bizarre coincidence she had not even realized.