“Come on, Papa,” Ayer consoled. Being tied up, he could do little to soothe his father’s pain. “Calm down. We’ll get her back.” He looked at Cleave with hate burning in his eyes. “Even if it kills me, I’ll avenge my brothers. Crown — or no Crown.”
Sam could not argue that he could also be someone’s boogeyman, someone’s villain, a killer of sons, of husbands and fathers, a maker of widows. The old man’s sobs hit Sam like a Mack truck, but he dared not show it. A lump grew in his throat. How had he never seen this? How did it never occur to him that even the bad guys in the story were sometimes victims of other bad guys who think they are good guys?
Sam got up and stormed out, calling back to his men, “I’m going to check on Nina.”
He was so upset that he had forgotten about Purdue waiting on the line. Purdue finally said, “Alright, lads. We’ll wait for you to get here. I am sending one of my Irish squads to collect you and fly you to Medina within the next four hours. Is that right for you?”
“Yes, Monsieur,” Ayer responded. “From our side, you will have four allies.”
“Thank you,” Purdue said. “Over and out.”
“Nina appeared from the hallway, having heard it all. She could barely walk, but Dr. Hooper had put a brace on her ankle to stabilize the fracture so she could move around. Wrapped in a blanket, she shuffled around the doorway to look the Militum survivor in the eye. While the old man was still sobbing silently, the others regarded her without a flinch.
“Hey! Hey!” Sam cried out, coming back from her room when he had found her absent. He put his arm around her, protectively. “Don’t come in here.”
But Nina said nothing. Her head was pounding like a hammer on an anvil and her skin was riddled with little blisters, making her ache under the blanket’s weight and fibers. When she’d awoke, after she’d slapped Sam for abandoning her to near certain death, he’d told her everything that had happened in Jerusalem. With bloodshot, swollen eyes, she looked at the maniacs who strung her up like a pig for the slaughter. “You are all on my shit list,” she rasped, her voice raw from the heat, smoke, and screaming. “I will never forgive you for this, but tomorrow I will be your ally.”
“Are you daft, woman?” Sam gasped.
Nina looked at Sam with a vengeful expression that left him cold. “That bitch killed Father Harper, right? I am going to help these beasts, Sam,” she said with conviction, pointing at the four remaining members of the Militum, “and I want to see her sit on that goddamn throne.”
Ayer smiled. “Done.”
34
Like Thieves in the Night
At seven p.m. the following night, Purdue and his hired men waited at a house he’d rented for the week, situated in a village called Sultanah. He had forwarded the coordinates to Sam via the communication devices he had designed to look like common electronic watches. Sam had notified him that they were on their way by means of a local crew employed by an affiliate of Purdue in the transport business.
“More of that good coffee from your dallah, my dear lady,” Purdue smiled, holding up the diminutive cup he had just drained. “Thank you.”
“At this rate you will have stones in your gallbladder before you are a year older,” the house owner smiled at him. She was amazed how well the Scottish man could handle Arabic coffee. In the driveway, two cars arrived. Purdue was elated to have his friends back with him. Much as he was a debonair, well-traveled man, he had been feeling a tad wary of the cruel world lately and good company was not enough. He needed those specific people. People like Sam and Nina, his loyal partners in adventure, crime, and personal matters.
When they entered the modest little house, the place lit up with subdued merriment.
“Good to see you again, Sam. Good to see that eye is healing up,” Purdue teased about the stitches Sam had to get from their little scuffle under the mosque.
“That’s nothing,” Sam responded swiftly. “You should see the other guy.”
Purdue laughed with Sam, but when the small frame of his darling Nina limped through the door, his face sank to a bitter happiness. “Nina,” he said in a broken voice, “my God! You are the toughest little thing in history and that’s no lie. I had to hear of everything through a bloody communications device.”
“Why weren’t you there?” she asked plainly, leaving him speechless. Sam cleared his throat and joined Ayer and the other three Militum members in the introductions.
“Because I am a fool, Nina. Telling you that I was on a drug-less acid trip for those days would not excuse what my ignorance caused you,” he apologized. “But I am going to make it up to you.”
Nina’s voice was hoarse and sore, and Purdue could not hug her because of her scalded skin, but she leaned in to him to make something clear. “If you try to protect her again, I will kill you myself. Are we clear?”
She did not wait for an answer, but just limped past Purdue to join Sam and the others. The Brigade Apostate was happy to help one of their members to free Dr. Gould, but they would not stick around for the rest of the mission, leaving Sam and Nina with only the Militum at their side.
Never before had the owner of the house met so many cut, bruised and injured Europeans together in one place. She sat in the far corner with coffee, fascinated by their indifference to the fact that they were planning to breach the most cursed fortress in Medina, the unholy wart on the holy face of the region.
After they’d had a small dinner and exchanged ideas, the group decided to attack the Geier citadel in the night, for the element of surprise to be optimal.
“We have no way of knowing Toshana is in there, though,” Purdue said, “so we are all wearing coms so that we can notify each other of tactical positions and free zones, alright?”
They nodded in unison. Occasionally, Nina and Ayer’s eyes would meet. The connection was powerful, and she would keep seeing his scythe reach for her throat every time he looked at her. Consequently, she dropped her eyes altogether, focusing on the plan.
“Now Ayer, where is the building we seek?” Purdue asked.
“At the edge of town, Mr. Purdue,” Ayer responded, “there is a place called Kittanah. About three kilometers from there sits the hideous citadel. On the gates is this symbol…” He drew a rough sketch on a ripped piece of newspaper. Purdue felt his skin crawl. “That is the symbol on the contract Toshana gave me to sign. That proves the citadel belongs to her, because she is the widow of one Klaus Geier. Ayer said the owner was Geier.”
“Oui,” Ayer said.
Nina craned her neck to see the symbol sketched by Ayer and she lifted an eyebrow as she scrutinized it. “You do know what that symbol represents, correct?” she asked Purdue. He shook his head. “No, I thought it was one of the Bilderberg affiliates.”
“It is,” Nina replied, almost smirking in the sick twist, “so to speak.”
They all stared at her in apprehension. “This, gentlemen, is the Sigil of Mammon.”
“Money,” Purdue said softly. “Of course, she said she worshiped money. She said I do too.”
“That makes sense, because the name on the building that masquerades as Hebrew lettering, reads ‘Mammon,’” Ayer confirmed. “I don’t care how much money she has. Some things cannot be bought.”
Nina scoffed.
“Now remember, we are going in blind. I’ve used Ayer’s expertise to advise me on the elemental and chemical composites of the Crown of the Templars. My tablet, based on the information, will direct me to the Crown. Nina, Sam,” he announced, “you come with me to retrieve the relic.”