As he looked into the darkness around the craft only illuminated by the lights of the controls, he continued more to himself, “It never bothered me in the past. I would flash the cash and procure a dozen willing scientists, historians, archaeologists…” he looked at Larsen, “… pilots. Now I actually care about the fate of the individuals I involve. I’ve finally crumbled, Larsen. I fear to admit this, but I seem to have become a rather humane and considerate madman.”
A day later, Purdue and his crew touched down at RAF Milltown's lonely airstrip to return his private jet to its clandestine home under the secondary hangar marked 'Squadron Darling — SA Bulldog.' Inside the over-sized hangar lived a small 121 Model, long since as abandoned as its glory days in the RAF. But it was merely a decoy in times of emergency, when it would be hoisted up and the floor it stood on would fall away on the east side to create a ramp. This ramp was utilized by Dave Purdue's companies to access his aircraft, well out of sight of any prying organizations.
He owned the local radius of grounds for some magnitude around, and wherein the pinnacles of radio antennas peeked out in between dry trees, reaching for the airwaves. The place had been converted for different uses over time, which is why Purdue had purchased some of it. That way, his little part of the property could not be traced under the umbrella of various owners and he had the desolate and unassuming grounds to cover his subterranean hangars.
The purpose of the base had been quite confusing, since it had been built as a RAF bombing decoy in the Second World War. It was the perfect place for Purdue to hide his flight craft. B1- and T1-type hangars populated the flat coastal site, remnants of the base's initial services as an airfield and training unit for the Coastal Command and Bomber Command. With the Royal Navy taking command after the war and employed as the Deck Landing Training School, the compound once more sprouted a larger purpose relating to air operations, whether military or civilian.
This historically rife location was an asset to someone like Dave Purdue, quite the find in itself for his flying endeavors, when he needed such. After his constant run-ins with the malice of the Order of the Black Sun and their abilities to reach their tentacles into any international real estate transactions they chose, Purdue had elected to go underground, so to speak. And it had been working swimmingly.
“Afternoon, Mr. Purdue!” the third shift security guard greeted cordially as Purdue emerged from the Squadron Darling hangar.
“Afternoon,” Purdue smiled, already feeling better about his death-trailed escaped from Ethiopia now that he was on home soil. “Will you make sure my flight crew take the shuttle I hired from this checkpoint, please?”
“Of course, sir,” the security officer nodded. Purdue always had a shuttle available for his crewmembers to arrive safely at their own homes after a few days away. “And you, sir?”
Purdue waved dismissively at the inquiry. “Oh, no, no, thank you. I’m taking one of the private fleet vehicles. I’ve had enough of being chauffeured about, believe me.” He chuckled with the friendly security man who gave him the necessary log documents to fill out and sign.
“Pardon my forwardness, sir, but aren't you taking the daring approach a bit far here?” the security officer asked Purdue.
“How do you mean?” Purdue asked, barely looking up from the papers he was perusing.
The man whispered, “Transporting such a priceless relic in an unguarded vehicle seems, um, a bit careless? Aren't antiques and historical valuables usually transported in some kind of…” he shrugged with a layman's look, “convoy or armored vehicle?”
Purdue laughed slyly and finally met eyes with the concerned security guard. “My friend, that is precisely what they would expect, is it not?”
The man's face lightened up and he smiled suddenly. Wagging an index finger at the billionaire, he chuckled, “Ah! I see! I see what you’re doing, Mr. Purdue. You’re a sly fox with a keen mind for evasion. I think the Secret Service or one of them covert government agencies should take lessons from you.”
“Oh, believe me, officer,” Purdue smiled, “some people can be taught lessons a million times over and not learn a bloody thing.”
“Like some sly evasive actions can be out-thought by those who recognize your psychology?” a woman's voice asked. The security officer stiffened awkwardly at the woman's remark and stepped one pace back from Purdue to regain his professional position as guard. Purdue was still signing, not bothering to look up at the guard or the woman. He simply replied, “It is my prerogative, I believe, to reveal my psychology to those whom I trust, my dear Nina.”
Dr. Nina Gould could not help but smile while he was not looking, but the security guard noticed her smile yield to a firm expression when Purdue looked up to greet her. “You haven't forgotten my voice, I see,” she said, clumsily starting the small talk, but he tolerated it. After trying so hard to win back her trust and cultivating a renewed friendship with Nina, he would forgive her just about anything — even more than he used to.
From the shadow of the security office the guard chuckled in amusement. He did not mean for them to hear, but he could not help but react to the revelation of the woman's identity.
“Can I help you?” Nina asked firmly.
“No, ma'am. Apologies,” he replied, clearing his throat awkwardly. It was plain that he couldn’t take his eyes off Nina, something she was quite used to, but there was something about his stare that unsettled her into a feisty response. “Look, officer, why don’t you just come out and say what you’re thinking?”
The man removed his beret like a respectful funeral attendee, wringing the hat in his hands. The lady was adamant, so he was forced to oblige her. “I'm sorry, madam, but… aren't you that Lady Godiva who saved that other lady from a serial killer or something?”
Purdue tucked his head down to muffle a giggle, though he was not aware of what had happened in his absence from the United Kingdom.
“Aye,” Nina sighed, relinquishing her need to flare into fury for the vexing remark. At her reply the security guard looked awfully satisfied, which perplexed Purdue. He felt like he’d missed something everyone else knew.
“Oh, do tell,” he smiled, folding his arms gleefully. To have Nina referred to as a historical nude noblewoman was just too good to abandon curiosity for. She rolled her eyes. Addressing the security man directly, Nina shrugged, “Just tell him.”
Beaming in delight, the officer smiled, “I don't have to. I have the clip on me phone!”
Chapter 9
Nina stood outside, dying for a smoke. Although her recovery from lung cancer had miraculously cured her of most of her underlying maladies, she didn’t want to seem ungrateful to the Powers That Be for her second chance at life. And that meant that Nina Gould had to give up cigarettes, a hefty toll indeed, but one worth pursuing in the long run. Inside the small office she could hear Purdue and the officer exclaim in awe and amusement while they watched the video clip of the naked beauty who had thwarted an abduction a few nights before. The video had since gone viral over the entire Internet.
She waited patiently for them to get it over with, and after a short pause and silence, Purdue came out, ready to head to his home in Edinburgh. Looking more composed than he’d been while watching the news footage, he lightly touched her elbow, ushering her to the vehicle he’d prepared.
“I’ve something you have to take a look at, Nina. Just take a look at it, please,” he said unceremoniously. Nina frowned at his odd behavior. There was no remark about the clip he’d just watched, no teasing or silly inquiries about her nudity. Then again, she reckoned, taking the piss was more Sam's thing than the astute and proper Purdue would employ.