The Lost Crown of the Knights Templar

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.”

“We will be looking for Toshana,” Gille smiled slyly.

“Now, we go with the two vehicles outside,” Purdue said. “It will allow each unit to leave the premises as soon as they have achieved their objectives.”

“Got it,” Sam chimed in. “But I still think Nina should stay here.”

“Noted,” Nina said. She got up and slid a Bowie knife into her boot, keeping it fixed with the ankle brace. “Now, let’s go and get our shit done.”

“You heard the lady,” Purdue smiled, also concerned for her. But he knew how tenacious she was and that any advice would only piss her off.