The Medusa Stone

Chapter 34

Purdue was worried sick.

He could not get hold of Nina or Don, causing him even more stress. Everything in him screamed to return to Poland and seek them out. At least he knew where they were supposed to be, but he had to wait here in London for them. They would bring the Medusa stone so that he could arrange for Helen’s release. One thing he did have going for him was what he found on the security footage — which the kidnappers accessed the administration building with Soula Fidikos’ code.

But that only proved that the same people responsible for killing Soula were behind the abduction. And he already knew that just by deduction. Now his team members in Poland were off the radar, even from him, which was never a good thing. All he could do was hope that they were just delayed. Otherwise, he would be in for a long month of friends’ funerals to attend.

While he waited for the second of three calls from the Black Sun, he chugged back one Scotch after the other. It was a dumb idea that he knew, but it did not seem to matter to him if his friends were in trouble. His phone rang, like the expected tolling of an execution bell.

“Hello.”

“Mr. Purdue, how are you?” the distorted voice asked.

“I’m just peachy, thank you,” he answered casually.

“Do you have the Medusa stone?” the voice inquired.

“I have not been able to find it yet,” Purdue replied. He did not expect understanding from Helen’s captor, but he answered truthfully nonetheless because he had nothing else.

“That is a pity. Tomorrow is the last day, Mr. Purdue, as you know,” the voice reminded him. “Then we take Professor Barry.”

“I know. I know,” the exhausted billionaire slurred. “And if I don’t save Prof. Barry? You might kill her, but you will still not have the Medusa stone.”

A pause followed just as Purdue had hoped. He had them in a corner with that one, he thought.

“Then we kill Dr. Gould.”

Purdue’s heart stopped. He fought to keep from throwing up as the voice continued to clarify matters for him. “We have three men currently exploring Auschwitz with her, actually.”

Tears welled in his eyes and his voice cracked.

“Is she in their custody?” he asked.

“If she were, Mr. Purdue, she could not find the Medusa stone for us, could she? She is not in our custody, but she is in our sights. One word from me and Nina Gould joins Soula Fidikos,” the voice threatened.

Purdue could not utter a single word in response. It was not because he had nothing to say, but that his throat had closed up at the thought of Nina’s fate if he did not deliver the Medusa stone within the next day.

“Tomorrow, then,” the man signed off. “Good day, Mr. Purdue.”

He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry like a child; like he had not cried since the shock of his twin sister’s death when he left her behind in Venice long ago. Dave Purdue always had a way out. Wealth and genius had always provided him with a guaranteed way out of everything, even when all seemed lost. There was a reason he was always cheerful and suave.

Until now he had never known what it is like to lose control. No longer was he able to take the reins in every sticky situation.

But just as the despair overcame him, his mind became clear one more time. Like the final gasp before the last exhale, he focused on what he had, meager as it was.

“That accent,” he sniffed, wearily propped up on his elbows on the wall desk of his London penthouse. “Why do I know that accent?”

He got up, wiped his eyes and picked up his cell phone again. Pacing up and down, he waited for the call to be answered.

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “It’s Purdue. How are you?”

On the other end of the line, an old friend was amazed to hear from him, but Purdue soon made it clear that it was not a social call. After giving his friend a brief twenty-minute account of recent events, Purdue was back to his confident self.

“I need your help. I think I know who the kidnapper is. Can you find out if he is involved with the Black Sun organization? Please get back to me by tonight, latest. Sooner if you can!” Purdue pleaded.

After the call, he arranged to get what he needed to save Helen, and subsequently, Nina too. It would be the most unorthodox rescue he had ever implemented, but he had a good feeling about it. Having been so worried about Nina, it was ironic that the voice of Helen’s captor was the one who notified him that Nina was not dead or missing after all.

He had one night and a morning left to get the Medusa stone before the last call, that call that would seal the fate of two women he adored.