Nazi Gold

Chapter 33 — Turn of Events

Greta had gone to look for Radu at the office of the guest house after she woke up, but there was no-one around, so she returned to the room. There was not much time to find the boy, since they still had to make the trip to the Museum to meet Igor there. She was elated that he had Sam Cleave with him. Now she had one very heavy yoke off her neck. No accusation against her and her dealings would stand in the courts of law without Cleave’s footage. She could not wait to meet him face to face again. Had she only known back in Weimar that he was Radu’s hospital roommate, she could have done something there and then to avoid the captain having to lose more men after the Mueller farm shoot-out.

When she came into the room, Radu’s bed was still untouched, although his bag was packed and ready on the chair. He was sitting on his bed, legs crossed, with his back to her.

“Radu! Where the hell have you been? We have an appointment with Igor and some friends in less than half an hour!” she frowned.

Behind her the door slowly closed and clicked in. It was unusual for the door to do that with the window closed, but Greta did not believe in ghosts and goblins. She tried the door, but it was locked tight. As hard as she could manage with her pained and weak body, she jerked at the knob with all her strength.

“Come and help me, would you?” she barked at her adopted son, but he did not move. “What are you doing over there?” Greta left the door and came to see what Radu was doing on the sheets in front of him. On his wrist she saw him wearing her fine golden chain bracelet that was with her jewelry in her luggage.

“Where did you get th…?” she wanted to ask, but her words froze on her tongue when she saw the card he had put out — The Shackle, closing her doorway to escape. Calmly Greta put out her hands very slowly and kept her voice soft and low.

“Liebchen, what are you doing with that?” she asked as evenly as she could, while her heart exploded with terror inside her. She was afraid she may have taught him too much already when he had been so influenced by the cards that he physically suffered their destructive power. His reading was loosely based on the Mystic Seven spread, one of the five she had taught him with the cue cards, but since he lacked a full deck, he worked around it. After all, this was not a reading to reveal, but one to put to action the faces of its cards. Based on Radu’s will, they would find his grasp before he laid them.

“Listen, Radu, it won’t work like that,” she said in fear.

Radu did not respond to her, but he was perfectly aware of what he was doing. Next he placed The Boy to represent himself and The Pyre to fix himself in success.

“Radu, stop that at once!” Greta shouted, electing, unfortunately to take the disciplinarian route. Around them in the room time stopped for a few moments to adjust to the row of the present.

“Radu!” Greta screamed.

“Be quiet!” Radu roared in a voice that was only his in essence, but the tone was that of a god caught in a time lapse, dragging its words in a low slur. The young Romanian orphan turned his eyes to hers and she jolted. They were covered with a milky cataract, the edges of his irises gleaming in a gilded yellow like the frames of the Black Tarot’s cards.

“Gott im Himmel,” Greta shrieked with her hands on her mouth and her brow distorted in unbridled horror.

Outside the clouds grew darker under the thrall of the time manipulation and a swirling grey dawned over Transylvania, while the group of Gypsies helped Petra and Nina search for Sam around the ruins of Petr Costita’s house. They froze for a moment as if stunned, and then casually continued to call and search in the same place they had before. Petra and Nina looked at each other with perplexity and both said, “Déjà vu.”

The same happened in the car with Sam, Igor and the captain’s men. But although the others saw it as a strange feeling of familiarity, Sam and Igor knew what it meant. They stared at each other in disbelief.

“Your mother?” Sam asked.

“Or Radu,” Igor answered with a tremble in his voice. “We have to go to the park at the Botanical Gardens! Alexandru Borza Botanical Gardens! Now!”

“The Botanical Gardens?” Sam exclaimed. “Why? Don’t you want the footage I hid at the Museum?”

Igor could not decide. His face was overwhelmed with panic and a need to go to the park of the Botanical Gardens, but he said, “I must get the footage here at the museum. It is imperative…but…the museum…I have to go NOW! To the park, sergeant!” he ordered the driver.

“What the fuck is going on, Igor?” Sam frowned. His captor was scowling deeply, staring into space and shaking his head profusely every now and then. He looked up at Sam, countless emotions twisting his countenance all at once as if he was being summoned, but fought the pull.

The car turned right there, a block from the Museum of Romanian History, and it sped down Strada Emil Isac toward the Botanical Gardens. Sam panicked. He looked back at the street leading to the Museum where he had Interpol waiting to arrest his captors, as well as Greta Heller when she arrived.

They were prompted by the secret service, who had safely taken possession of Sam’s incriminating evidence against Greta Heller in Prague when Sam went to get his gear for the Hoia Baciu excursion. His friend at the MI6, Patrick Smith, facilitated the arrangement. All Sam had to do was deliver the memory card with the photos and the film footage to their office in Prague and from there they would keep track of him by tracking device. Now there was a change of plans and he sincerely hoped they would follow his signal — the trap that was set for the captain and his dogs who hunted Sam would have caught some extra meat that he did not even know was involved.

“What do we do when we get there, sir?” the captain asked, confused and a little irritated.

“You wait,” Igor said, “I will be at the green house inside the premises.” His eyes were blank and his voice almost robotic as his intense focus cut out everything around him. The sky rumbled over the city as the Dealer sealed Greta’s fate a few blocks away, unbeknownst to her son and subordinates.