“How is your mind still so clear at this time of night, on top of jet-lag conditions, Sam?” Purdue mused, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Inflight vodka,” Sam answered, putting away the tablet in Purdue’s coat.
“I just hope you remember all that tomorrow when we start to figure out the blank spots, old boy, because my brain is running on autopilot,” Purdue warned.
The sign next to the road came into view just as the GPS told Purdue to turn off into Tuusula, a suburb of Helsinki where the Sampo Guest House was located. Purdue looked in the rearview mirror. Nina was sleeping soundly and he dreaded having to rouse her once they arrived.
“Tuusula,” Sam read the sign out loud.
“Jari lives somewhere in this neighborhood,” Purdue clarified, “so we’ll have less of a commute in the morning when we look him up.”
“Ah, clever,” Sam nodded, turning in his seat to look back. He reached out his hand to touch Nina’s knee, but then he thought better of it. The ordeal she had survived was not one that would just relent and he was sure she would be startled by his touch.
“Nina,” he said firmly as Purdue found his way to the guest house and pulled in to announce their arrival at the intercom fixed to the gate walls. She did not respond, so Sam tried again. The ice cold air flushed through the vehicle like the hand of death when Purdue opened his window to speak.
“Purdue, party of three. I called earlier from the airport?” Purdue said loudly into the speaker.
The combination of frigid air assaulting her and Purdue’s loud voice over the humming engine woke Nina instantly. She opened her eyes and looked right into Sam’s. It was almost magical, emerging gently from a warm, dreamless sleep and waking to see those spellbinding, dark brown eyes glisten with affection.
Nina smiled, and Sam reciprocated.
“I thought you were dead,” he joked.
“Actually it was the first while I have had to enjoy the fact that I wasn’t,” she replied, looking around to see where they were. “Are we here?”
“Aye, I hope they have coffee, or whisky,” Sam grinned, rubbing his hands together as Purdue closed his window.
The massive gate opened steadily in the beam of the car’s headlights, letting the foreigners in for the night. Out of the shadows, where the driveway and garden lights could not reach, stationary cars peeked out from among well-tended brushes and hedges. Behind them, immersed in darkness, the tall trees hissed in the angry wind.
Nina looked up at the large sign to her right as she exited the car into the cruel talons of the cold.
“Sampo,” she mouthed with a timid voice. She could not help but have a feeling of apprehension at the sight of the slanted letters. At first she could not figure why she would be uneasy about a place she had never been to, but then it dawned on her that the sign closely represented the signage at the Himalayan lodge. With a weary sigh she grabbed her bags and followed Purdue and Sam to the reception area.
The following morning was overcast, but mild. Sam took a hot shower to wake him up after a midnight meal and four glasses of Finlandia in the company of the owner’s brother and his wife. He was going to meet Nina and Purdue in the lobby. From there they would be off to Jari’s house, unannounced. Purdue knew he could use Sam in this instance, for once for what he was known. According to the plan the three of them would call on Jari under the pretense of being an investigative journalist and his colleagues.
Sam would hopefully be able to interview Jari and determine who the sculptor was, so that they could find his connection to the Odinist Nazism displayed on the chain. Perhaps, Sam hoped, he could even learn what the golden chain was for — provided Purdue’s Finnish peddler even knew about it. Maybe it was not a good idea to mention the extra gold he sold to Purdue at a loss.
“Ready?” Purdue asked, when Sam sauntered into the lobby, looking less than exhilarated.
“You just don’t learn, do you?” Nina smiled.
“Hey, I have my gear set up convincingly and I have my questions prepared,” Sam defended his condition, “so I’ll thank you not to question my professionalism.”
“Convincingly, you say?” Purdue asked as they headed for the car. “I’ll have you know that this subterfuge is not entirely that. You are, after all, there to get information and if the opportunity presents itself, you are there to gather footage of anything pertinent, my friend. Don’t write off the authenticity of your deceit just yet.”
“You almost lost me there for a bit. Semantics can be effective, but please reserve it for less-fatigued brains,” Nina playfully slapped Purdue on the arm.
Dark green, lush trees consumed the small street in Gustavelund that snaked in the direction of Lake Tuusula. This time Purdue opted for the backseat, claiming that he needed the trip duration to check his emails and calibrate a new device he had designed especially for this mini-expedition. Sam was driving
“Here, number eight,” Nina announced, and Sam stopped the car reluctantly.
“Are you sure?” he asked her.
“Aye,” she answered, double checking the post for the number she had on the address.
Nina scrutinized their surroundings and Sam looked perplexed. Purdue did not look up, embroiled in what he had on his tablet’s screen.
“Are we there?” he asked them without looking up.
“I don’t know,” Sam said.
“Why?” the billionaire mumbled.
“Because there is no house here…” Nina said.
Purdue looked up and confusion shifted his face.
“There’s nothing.”
Chapter 14
“You mean to tell me that she actually managed to find one of the generators?”
The woman asking the question was gaunt and small, her age long past seventy years. She was dressed in a pale brown jumpsuit that showed off her youthful shape and her hair was up in a gray bun that only reinforced her fierce and petulant countenance. A most hideous hag she was in personality, and not much less repulsive on sight. Her name was Beinta Dock and she was the current head of the Vril Society of present day.
“You know we cannot allow anyone outside our inner sanctum to have that item, right?” she shouted, her voice bending into a semi-hysterical screech. In her office in Stockholm she was feared by all her staff, even her own bodyguards. With her elongated old finger, she tapped the surface of the desk as she listened to what was a dire excuse on the telephone.
“That’s a lovely analogy, but I am not here for dogma. I am a goddamn scientist! There was a time not long ago when you were one too! Now you listen to me,” she growled as she leaned forward over her desk to speak softer, “you had better find a way to seal that site back up or there will be hell to pay!” Beinta slammed down the phone, her mouth twitching like a writhing knife wound from sheer discontent. The old woman could not believe that a member of the Black Sun would have the audacity to steal the technology her predecessors and consorts so carefully worked to perfect in the past century.
Before her sat one of her loyal colleagues, Hilda Kreuz — Vril Youth Society. The young woman had eyes like steel, not in color, but in intent. A genius and active chemical engineer, Hilda was an adept follower of Beinta Dock. She was as livid about the precious energy generator being obtained by a civilian. Although one of many, its properties were of a higher level of intelligence and not for the average human mind.
“Being the current captain of the ship, it is my burden to keep the world from discovering our unmatched technology and knowledge. Now the generator had been stolen!” she told her cold subordinate. “Oh, Hilda, I am gravely concerned that it might become public. If it should be analyzed, you know the governments of the world would harness the inexhaustible energy it produces, or worse yet, it would pass into the hands of just one country to rule others!”