“Alone?”
“Yes, Russell, alone. Mr Jakob Hult always works alone, for obvious reasons.” Block was starting to sound annoyed so Cayman let him speak, moving slightly to keep Kali’s bones within his line of sight.
Block closed his eyes and started to recite from memory, the slight smile on his face showing he savored every single word, “‘And though Odin’s device shall need His nine pieces to activate’.” Block stopped there. “Activate is the wrong word, but my translator assures me it is the closest alternative. ‘There shall remain one more way, this being a double failsafe for Odin and his Gods. And so… place three like minds in three separate tombs with three separate parts of the same God. And thus, this way too, there are nine parts. Do this, and the device shall activate, joining the vortexes, and burning the world to ashes’.” Block stopped expectantly.
Cayman thought it through. “Why is it a double failsafe?”
“Because it’s a second way to activate the device and we also need three men, separated, all with like minds. I guess it’s like not allowing one man to have his hands on the nuke codes.”
“And the vortexes?”
Block pulled a face. “That’s one thing we haven’t fathomed yet.”
Cayman stared at Kali’s bones. “You want to divide her up?”
“It’s the only way. I don’t want to start smuggling gods’ bones out of the tombs, not when we have one right here. And Cayman, you will be a big part of this. A big, bright shining part. Think of the reward.”
Cayman was thinking of the reward. The rest of his life, in solitude, living amongst the vile and sinful, immorally infused old bones of the worst gods in history. “The end justifies the means, I guess.”
“Oh, it does.” Block’s smile widened. “Imagine our power. Mightier than ever before. Once we hold the key to the device we will own everything.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cayman saw one more hole. “You mentioned three men?”
“Three men. Three tombs. Three parts of Kali. In truth, I do not see how us all having like minds makes a difference, but we’ll do that anyway.”
“Perhaps it has something to do with these vortexes?” Cayman suggested.
“Perhaps. But now we must prepare, Russell. Your task, as I’m sure you know, is to secrete one of Kali’s bones in each of the tombs, then wait at Singen until the appointed hour when we shall join our minds. Presently, I will go to the Hawaiian tomb. Our third man will be present at the Icelandic tomb.”
Cayman again found his gaze drawn toward the bags of bones. “Then I’ll get started.” He walked past Block, dismissing himself, and entered the far room. It was only Wednesday. He would visit the Icelandic tomb first, since he knew its layout and security measures. For a moment he stood upright, clearing his mind, then fell to his knees and unzipped the bag.
Her scent drifted out, ancient malevolence mixed with overwhelming greed and lust, sloth and wrath. All the seven deadly sins infused into a set of dusty old bones that would never quite be just that. Cayman thought his mind may have been a little bit warped before he met Kali, but she had changed all that. Now he could function. Now the way forward was clear.
His future crouched in festering anticipation, waiting for him in the beautifully wretched tombs of the gods.
Zak Block allowed himself not an ounce of judgment. To pull off this gargantuan task he needed Russell Cayman, and now was not the time to form an opinion. Now was the time for action.
The Shadow Elite, whilst no longer having any kind of major army at its beck and call, still employed many insanely-capable cells in all parts of the world. Mercenaries. Ex-soldiers, disgruntled by low pay and officious officers. Warriors unhinged by all they had seen and done. And the plain crazy — the killers. A small, scattered army remained at Block’s beck and call.
He called each and every one now, using prearranged code words and promising an influx of funds. He told each one where he needed them and dispatched them immediately, to await his call. He asked an expert cell to travel shortly to Iceland to deal with his translator — Jakob Hult — with extreme prejudice. The man had completed his task and had now become a liability. He knew far too much about Block’s new master plan.
Each cell would guard a tomb, both covering Cayman’s back and awaiting the hour when three men would turn from mortals into gods and truly rule the world.
The new game was on.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Torsten Dahl arrived in Reykjavik, Iceland, around Saturday lunchtime and immediately called his friend, Olle Akerman.
“Where are you, Olle?”
“What? No greeting, my old friend? I am with your wife. Ha!”
Dahl waited patiently.
“Alright, alright, I am nervous that is all. I have been nervous since I saw that Cayman pig sneaking around the tomb. Thought I would never see him again.”
Dahl knew that Cayman had taken charge of the Icelandic tomb’s operations when everyone still thought he worked for the DIA. “You escaped him, Olle. Remember that. Now, where are you?”
Akerman gave him the address of a coffee shop. “I have read that Reykjavik is among the safest cities in the world. That is very good, ja?”
Dahl left the airport, jumped straight into a taxi and the driver took him into the heart of Rejkyavik. Dahl studied the blocky buildings and the ever present looming spire of Hallgrimskirkja, the mountains across the water in the distance. Rejkyavik was a pretty place and, lacking the bustle of Stockholm, always seemed appealing whenever he visited. Johanna and the kids would love it here. Only trouble was, he only ever visited as part of an ongoing mission. Johanna might not even know he was here.
Akerman waved from outside the coffee shop as Dahl’s taxi pulled up. Dahl shook his head, paid the driver, and ushered the older man back inside. “Low profile, Olle. Low profile.”
“Ah. You soldiers and your missions. It is a good job you have people like me to keep your heads in the real world, ja?”
Dahl directed him to the back of the shop, next to the fire exit. He then ordered drinks and sat down lightly on the edge of a comfortable seat. During the last two hours of flying he had evaluated all the information Drake and Yorgi had conveyed. The only clear move they could make was to try and liberate the professor.
The team over in Moscow had agreed with him and an operation was even now under way.
Dahl watched the front doors. “So Olle. Tell me all about it.”
“Well, first I hear that something has been translated. Something huge. And by one of my colleagues, Jakob Hult. News like that, it is a big thing for us. The process of translation is very boring, Torsten.”
“Understood. Go on.”
“So, of the four of us — all translators — suddenly two have had accidents and are dead. And then Jakob, he vanishes. That leaves me. Just me. Very scary.” Akerman shook his head.
“And then you saw Cayman?”
“No. Then I decide to investigate.” Akerman grinned. “Jakob’s sector, it is sealed off, but not very well…”
Dahl sighed. “Oh, Olle.”
“I am very good at this, Torsten. Do not worry. I go over there and have a sneak around. Sadly, I find nothing. Just the same boring translations I am dealing with. But I do see that a small part of the rock is broken away.”
Dahl made a motion. “As if someone had smashed it off on purpose?”
“I think so, yes. To hide what they found. And only one person could do that — Jakob. But then the security come around and I am forced to leave, but decide to return the next night.”