“Correct.”
“So what do you need us for? You know its gold. Who cares where it comes from?” Sam inquired, folding his hand under the opposite armpit while holding his glass of whisky.
“The artist who made this was Finnish. This chain had to be part of a bigger chain, I mean, look at this… eleven links would not be enough to close around anything big enough to merit this size of chain. It was part of something huge, Sam!” Purdue smiled. “Something massive.”
“Something massive… in Finland?” Sam teased.
“Drink your whisky,” Purdue sighed at Sam’s mischievous sarcasm. “This is why we need Nina. This cross was crafted in the time of the Second World War in Finland. I can feel it in my gut. There is a lot more to this, not only because it is fashioned from gold, but because by its crude looks you can almost imagine that it was actually used for something.”
“And what would you chain with gold if you could use iron or steel? That’s just weird. Have you researched it on the Internet?” he asked Purdue.
“Need I answer that at all?” Purdue asked.
“No. Nope. Daft question, sorry,” Sam agreed, swallowing the liquor while looking out at the obliterated cross. “It must have been quite beautiful.”
“It was. I suppose I could have it restored, but it would not be the same. Lightning struck it for the first time in almost a century, Sam, to reveal its secret. Wouldn’t it be special if such a thing happened for a purpose?” Purdue rambled in great excitement.
Sam scrutinized the broken relic and considered Purdue’s words. He set his glass down, his eyes never leaving the relic, and dreamily he had to concede that it would be a reach of chance to think otherwise. Gently, Sam noted, “Maybe it was meant to be discovered. Maybe Thor himself pointed you to it.”
Chapter 7
Nina had her captors spellbound for the length of a well-spoken German sentence, explaining to them that the Black Sun sent her to make sure that they had succeeded in their discovery. She used her words evasively in order to make them believe that she knew why they were there, while maintaining that she was merely an emissary who was looking for them.
“I joined the Cammerbach expedition to have a good cover to find you on behalf of the secret organization I belong to, but I could not let the mercenaries know that, could I?” she explained.
“The Order of the Black Sun is reputed to be at a standstill, Frau. That is why we act on our own. The Vril Society has all but fallen apart, but we did not suffer all this,” the mean one elucidated, gesturing to their physiques, “for nothing. We are of the true breed, Thulian in every way, and our pursuits go way beyond association with some society as yours does.”
“You don’t know anything about me, my dear friend, so I suggest you keep those assumptions to yourself. I am no lackey for the Black Sun. I am a scientist and researcher who knows everything about your Thule and Vril Societies, so please do not imply that I am here solely because I belong to an organization. I am here for my own gain, so that I can elevate myself in the order,” she defended as amicably as she could, and, for the feisty little historian, remaining calm when insulted was quite a feat.
They stood in silence after she finished, passing glances. Now that she had a moment to compose herself Nina took a thorough look at them. Now it became clear that they were not yeti at all, only that they were dressed as the mythical abominable snowman to hide their true identities. But that did not make them by any means less curious as men either.
They had freakish features, primitive, with heavy foreheads and deep voices, not to mention that they were unusually tall and muscular. Their eyes were of such a light hue that the gray irises almost looked white and the black borders vividly pronounced. What startled Nina was how ageless they appeared. She could literally not guess their ages. They could have been thirty-five or fifty-two — either would have passed.
One thing was clear to her: these men were definitely not of an average genetic predisposition, but descended from something quite grotesque. Had they looked alike she would have chalked them up to being another Nazi experiment, but their features varied enough to give them distinctive individual traits. They were each unique within the genetic composition of their origin.
“What is your name?” the harsh one asked.
Nina found herself caught off guard at the question, though she should have considered the possibility of it earlier.
“Olga Bremer, third level Black Sun member and rogue scientist,” she lied.
“Which branch of science?” another one asked.
“Physics,” she answered without really thinking. It was a safe answer, since they did not strike her as the time-bending type. It worked.
“There is nothing here for a physicist, Olga.”
“Are you sure? What do you think is hidden in the ranges of Tibet, boys? Why do you think the führer himself came here with his physicists, while Himmler occupied the Ahnenerbe side of the SS?” she challenged convincingly, although inside she was terrified, hoping to sound a lot more versed than she could ever be in truth.
“Now you’ve found us. What is your business with us?”
“Just want to report to my organization that your ventures are not based on myth, that I have seen it for myself,” she replied. Oh, my God, Nina, you are really spreading it thick, aren’t you? she thought. You’d better hope they fall for it. Little did her captors know that Nina had absolutely no idea what they were up to.
“We are wasting time, Thomas. Let’s get the generator and leave. We know who she is. If she makes trouble, we’ll use her up.”
Nina frowned at him, but held her tongue. Use me up? Dare I even imagine what he means?
“Rudi, you and Deiter lead the way. I’ll escort our esteemed colleague, Olga,” Thomas, the mean Alpha, ordered. “Let’s go.”
Nina was scared to death of them, yet somewhere under her anxiety there was a small spark of excitement as to the revelation she came here for. Finally, she would see what they were doing… and what the so-called generator was. She was being held in a tight grip by Thomas, his enormous left hand grasping her right arm. Literally steering the small, apprehensive historian, he guided her through the pitch dark behind the other three specimens, who each held pale green flashlights.
“The light is meager. Can I use my flashlight?” she asked.
“No!” came the resounding response from all of them. Thomas scowled and searched her for her light, which he confiscated immediately.
“I need that,” Nina tried to protest.
“Well, we can’t have that. The white beam will alter the energy allotment of Section 1,” Deiter explained to Nina from ahead of her. He did not look back while he spoke, but seemed rather nervous from what Nina could see. “Now, please be quiet.”
Turning a sharp right, they entered a smaller cavern and the men had to hunch over to continue. The air pressure changed discernibly, meaning that they had descended even deeper into the earth. Nina’s feet dragged every now and then, earning her a frustrated grunt from Thomas. But she could not see half as well as they could, and the floor of the grotto was wet and uneven. With all her heart she hoped that her claustrophobia would not rear up. So far the cavern was roomy enough, but it was growing smaller, deeper, darker, and farther. Not a good thing, claustrophobia, and she had it bad.
Nina breathed heavily as the tunnel slanted downward into a long, gradual drop, deeper into the mountain’s bowels. At the freezing temperatures they endured, Nina could not carry on much longer before imminent collapse and she clung to Thomas’ arm with all her weight.