“You will do no such thing, Patrick Smith,” Cassandra said from behind him. He swung around and saw his beautiful wife eavesdropping. For the first time in days he looked at her, really looked at her. Practically fully recovered, she was staring at him from the doorway with two mugs in her hands. “Not before I give you Nina Gould’s phone number so that she and Sam can help you.”
Paddy’s face lit up, “What?”
“She and Sam called a few minutes ago, asking if we are all right. Guess where they are, as we speak?” she smiled with a raised eyebrow. “Sweden.”
“You are shitting me!” he grinned.
“And they know someone who knows this Hilda Kreuz witch… and hates her with a passion,” Cassandra gloated.
Chapter 32
“Paddy is on his way here,” Nina smiled.
“Who is Paddy, if I may inquire?” Thomas asked in his heavy accent.
“The man who had your precious generator all this time, my friend,” Sam revealed. “But being in possession of it almost killed his wife and him.”
“According to his wife, Thomas, the very woman you have told us about in Stockholm, now has the generator,” Nina informed Thomas. He shook his head in defeat, looking utterly vexed.
“Do you know where Hilda Kreuz is?” Sam asked him.
“I do. I was Beinta Dock’s bodyguard and have been at their headquarters many times,” he said. “Why?”
“Well, if you can tell our friend where to go to… um… find her,” Nina said enticingly, “our friend could perhaps reward you with what he takes off her, something you have been trying to get your hands on?”
Thomas looked sobered, his fire renewed. What was probably the closest thing to a smirk he could muster, Thomas affirmed, “It is a deal. Oh God, is it a deal!”
Nina called Paddy at his home and gave Thomas the phone, where he disclosed pivotal information and locations.
“Special Agent Patrick Smith, you need to handle the device with a specific and special procedure.” Thomas said over the phone. “A box of fish fingers? Bist du verrückt?” he bellowed in astonished shock. “Nein, nein. You have to handle it like this. Write this down, bitte.”
Nina and Purdue chuckled.
“It makes you think, doesn’t it?” he contemplated.
“What? she smiled.
“Look at this man who threatened you, tried to kill you, now your ally, helping our ally against a common enemy of them both — the two strangers conversing on the phone right now,” Purdue smiled.
“It does make you think,” Sam chipped in, passing them each some local beer he picked up in Uppsala when he went to get food. “There is no such thing as friend or foe. If anything in the world is not just black or white, it is the fact that disagreement, opposition, or loyalty is never certain. Anyone has the capacity, circumstances permitting—”
“Understanding permitting,” Nina added.
“Aye, that too, to be anyone’s friend. War and discord is relative, subjective to the circumstances, their reasons and their objectives. Once the dynamics change, once the reasons and needs change, so do the relationships among people.”
“Precisely what I was going to say, Sam,” Purdue nodded enthusiastically, raising his beer, “but you said it better, more eloquently, as any celebrated writer would.”
“Two men on opposite sides of a religious war, sworn enemies for that purpose, could very well side as comrades at the mention of a football team or a band they admire,” Purdue said. “Look at this — a Nazi officer helping a British officer to destroy a common enemy.”
Thomas felt his way back toward where they were sitting on the ancient stone wall fence, having completed his call with Special Agent Patrick Smith.
“Christ, I feel bad about blinding him now,” Sam admitted. Nina took his hand and laid her head affectionately against his chest.
“You had to, or else we’d all be dead, Sam,” she comforted him.
“Right,” Thomas announced, “the British Secret Intelligence Service is closing in on Stockholm and a Frau Lancashire there apparently promised to return my device to me.”
“Aye, that’s Paddy for ya,” Sam smiled. “Have a beer, Thomas.”
“And we should hasten,” Purdue said, “I want to get into the church before nightfall. With this incessant rain the skies are already too dark to see properly.”
Thomas frowned, “Feels terrible not to see properly, doesn’t it?”
Sam choked on his beer, but Nina lightly tapped her hand on his leg to soothe his guilty conscience.
“Mr. Purdue, please don’t do this. This is not the way to wisdom. It is a certain way to war. Diplomacy means nothing with the people you are seeking to disturb, I assure you. They are not human. They have no capacity for mercy.”
“They are a myth,” Purdue said indifferently.
Thomas roared in frustration. “Look at me. I am a product of what they can achieve with a mere man! I have inhuman strength, and my aging is retarded by ten years to one. I shall not even deign to enter into wits with you to prove my point!”
“You misunderstand, Thomas, I have to know if Agartha exists and I can only do that if I go into that church,” Purdue said. “I have plenty of gold, and money to buy more. I promise you, my intent is not to look for treasures.”
“What is the point of knowing it exists and not trying to utilize it for your own gain?” the giant pressed Purdue.
“The technology they have could revolutionize the way the world runs, Thomas,” Purdue argued, but the German monster only grew more impatient with Purdue’s hardheadedness.
“Do you not understand? Their technology is for the subjugation of humankind, Purdue! It is developed with vril, tapped from the inverse and inexhaustible energy of the black sun itself!” Thomas explained with a rapidly waning fuse. “Not only can humankind not fathom the superior technology of the gods below, but humans could never wield this kind of power without destroying everything. And by opening that door you will give them reason to unleash their intent and power over this entire planet.”
“According to theory, that is exactly what they plan to do — to take over the world and destroy us ‘lower’ life forms,” Nina mentioned.
“Yes, but they are still preparing for it. There is no need for you three to make that happen two hundred, maybe three hundred, years too early!” Thomas pleaded. His pearled eyes darted profusely up and down, left and right from his disappointment.
Silence prevailed for a few minutes as they all finished their meals and beers, all clearly pondering the facts set out in the argument. All they heard was the sound of thunder far in the distance while the fresh cool rain washed away all the dust from the leaves, bark, and stones. At once Sam, Nina, and Purdue saw the world’s beauty in the rain showers of Old Uppsala, seat of ancient Norse gods and Scandinavian kings, people of old, of wisdom, and with respect for their creation.
When they walked into the lovely, modest little church, they found that they were alone there.
“No tourists like to come here in the rain,” said an old vicar with a difficult Swedish mumble. “They all want to see the Domkyrka in Uppsala instead.”
“Oh, no, we prefer the less-elaborate buildings,” Nina smiled.
“Well then, welcome, Scotland,” he replied and went about his business of replacing some candles.
The old vicar had a pale complexion, and he wore black clothing, but he boasted laugh lines and small blue eyes that gave him a distinctly mischievous appearance. His long gray hair was tied back and stood out against the dark hue of his cloak. Much like Jari Koivusaari, his beard was braided down to his chest and he wore tiny spectacles that rested close to the tip of his nose.