“Oh, you heard of it?” Sam asked, pleasantly surprised.
“That was an assassination, but nobody could prove it,” Thomas said.
“One of yours?” Purdue asked nonchalantly.
“No, Mr. Purdue. I only kill to protect vital secrets. I do not kill good military leaders for their seat in power,” Thomas told Purdue. “That is what Lieutenant Beinta Dock does, and now she and her bitch Hilda Kreuz are running the Vril Society. Who do you think exiled my brothers and me?”
Nina was astonished. So you are a rogue? You and your… brothers?” she asked, turning around in the passenger seat to face Sam and Thomas.
“We are brothers because we served in the same battalion and were admitted for experimentation by the SS as we served at the same time. But we are not related. Stabsfeldwebel Rudi von Hammersmach, Hauptsturmführer Deiter Baum, and Unterfeldwebel Johann Kemper were my comrades in my company. We were stationed in Poland first, then Sweden. They sent me to Sweden because my father was Swedish and I spoke the language. And finally we were deployed on secret missions in India during Hitler’s visit to Tibet. Secrets were our business, and that was why we were selected for Shambhala,” Thomas rambled in his deep, even tone. But the other three occupants of the car were spellbound.
“What year were you born, Thomas…?” Nina asked.
“Sturmbannführer Thomas Heinrich Thorsen, born August 6, 1911, in Hamburg,” the giant answered slowly, his blinded eyes searching the floor as if it had been ages since he spoke his own name. He fell silent after that and the others left him alone until they reached Gamla Uppsala or Old Uppsala.
“We need to get to the church, Dave, the stone church,” Nina instructed, checking her notes. The three discrepancies on the list she found in the train pointed to the town of Gamla Uppsala, referring to the little church that was reputedly built over the site of an ancient Pagan temple. The temple honored the Norse gods — Odin, Thor, and Freyr — gods who were once men — according to the accounts of Adam of Bremen in his 11th-century publication.
Most texts from the Middle Ages about this subject attested to the local grove beside the present church being the site of human sacrifices — where an evergreen tree stood above a spring, and every nine years a live man would be thrown in — to determine if the wishes of the people would be granted by the gods. It was the place where nine males of every living creature would be hung as sacrifices and it was sacred to the heathens.
The third clue was kyrka, or “church.”
“What happens when we get to the little church?” Purdue asked.
“We have to find something inside that refers to the golden chain or the old temple or kings perhaps interred. I suppose the Valknut will show us where it is,” she muttered, checking her phone for information on the old temple that was apparently destroyed in the 12th century.
Thomas opened his mouth as if to utter something in turn, but he abandoned the effort. Nina had turned her mind away from hating him since she learned how special Thomas really was, apart from being very old and looking like a forty year old.
“Thomas? Do you know something I don’t?” she asked respectfully.
He gave her a long look, deciding if he wished to help. As they drove through the soaking landscape of Old Uppsala, traversing the rolling emerald hills and mounds where kings were said to be buried, he cleared his throat.
“In the Gothic era, especially, many churches were decorated with chains hanging from their gables, so it is not so unusual that you would have to look for a symbol. Most of them just hung around the actual building,” he enlightened them. “The temple you refer to was said to bear a chain of gold, but it was dismissed as exaggeration.”
“Hey, where do you think this chain comes from, pal?” Sam asked enthusiastically.
“How do you know that this is from the sagas of Adamus Bremenus?” Thomas asked.
“The inscriptions on the smaller section we have pointed us here. It could not be coincidence that it would take gold to open the Tomb of Odin. He was after all, a god,” Purdue speculated.
“I am a god. I don’t care for gold,” the colossus mentioned nonchalantly. “The problem with modern times is that people adorn everything in empty treasures, like gold and precious stones. They create images of old gods that depict virility and beauty, when they were fat alcoholics of ripe age. What made of them gods, my friends, was their unshakable loyalty to the protection of their people, their bravery in battle, and their unwavering wisdom.”
None of the others dared contest Thomas at this point. They could not deny that he nurtured a deeper vision, a higher understanding of things.
“Real treasure is brotherhood, bravery, water, fire, air, intellect, and poetry,” Thomas lectured them. There was no doubt that he knew, firsthand, the ways of Odin.
Chapter 31
“Her name is Hilda Kreuz, a German national trained by some clandestine organization that promotes the development of scientific and technological supremacy in the youth of Europe,” Special Agent Lorna McLean reported to Paddy over Skype.
He and Cassandra sat on the couch of the TV room where Cassie was attacked by Hilda that night, talking to Lorna at the Glasgow office.
Paddy had contacted MI6 headquarters to assure that Detective Inspector Williams made contact. He wanted to be sure that Williams handed over the device that had to be analyzed by Exova. Shortly after his call to his superior, his MI6 colleague, Lorna, Skyped him to inform him that the woman who attacked Cassandra and tried to kill him in the hospital was suspected of killing DI Williams the night before.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Paddy sniffed, “how many more will she attack? How did he die, Lorna?”
“He was en route to the local precinct, because he called the station commander that he was filing a request to get permission… to go to Glasgow to speak to Mrs. Lancashire and officially submit the device to her care. But from the way they found his vehicle abandoned only two miles from you, we assume he ran out of petrol. His throat was slit and the device missing,” she reported.
“And the hospital security and staff where I left her?” Paddy asked. He could not believe that the assassin could get out of the predicament he left her in so quickly so that she could drive to his house and find Williams still there.
“Two dead, four badly injured. She branded a semiautomatic and they could not impede her escape before the cops arrived,” she sighed.
The landline rang in the kitchen, and Cassie excused herself to answer the call.
Lorna shook her head and sighed, “Pat, I’m so sorry about your old friend and partner.”
“Thanks, Lorna,” Paddy said, but he could not hold back the tears. It was not so much about Williams dying in the line of duty for what Paddy discovered, but for all the innocent people who perished while getting in the way of this evil woman. Had he only relinquished it, all these victims would still be alive.
“Pat, don’t be so hard on yourself. You did your job and they did theirs. Just relax, okay?” Lorna consoled her colleague.
“I wish I could. But I…” he stuttered. His expression changed positively and he asked, “Lorna, this organization Hilda Kreuz belongs to… where is it situated?”
“Stockholm, Sweden. I would tell you the name but,” she smiled sheepishly, “regrettably I cannot pronounce it.”
Paddy smiled, “No worries.”
“I have to sign off, Pat. Talk to you soon!” Lorna smiled and waved. She waited for Paddy to wave back and then ended the call.
“It doesn’t matter what her organization is called, because I’m going to rain hell on that little bitch and not even God will save her this time,” he vowed, looking at his own reflection in the black computer screen.