The Extraordinary Adventures of Alfred Kropp (27 page)

Mike knocked loudly on the door and stuck his head in. He was smacking gum and smiling.

“Great news, cowboys. We're a go. Let's load 'em up and move 'em out!”

He clapped his hands and clumped down the hall in those big hiking boots he wore.

“You want me to take up your sword,” I told him. “But I don't even know how to use a sword.”

“There is no time to teach you, Kropp. However, I suspect the day will not be lost or won through swordsmanship.”

We went downstairs. Jeff had laid out sandwiches. He said Mike had given orders to eat before we left.

“Where are we going?” I asked Mike.

“That's classified.”

Bennacio and I took our sandwiches into the great room and ate by the fire. Abby was standing off by herself, talking quietly on a cell phone and checking her watch. Cabiri was there, and Natalia, of course, but neither of them ate anything. Cabiri was very quiet too, not his usual jokey self, and Natalia looked like she was about to cry.

Everybody gathered by the front door.

“Okay, here's the game plan,” Mike announced. “Jeff, Paul, Bennacio, and
moi
head for the rendezvous point. Everybody else hangs here until we get back.” He was kind of smirking in Abby's direction.

“I am going with Bennacio,” Cabiri said.

“No can do, pal,” Mike said cheerfully. His mood was a lot better now that the game was finally on. “You don't have clearance.”

“I do not need your clearance,” Cabiri said. “I found you once . . .”

“You try to leave this château and I'll have you shot in the back of the head,” Mike said with a smile. “I've already given the order.”

Cabiri turned his head and made a spitting motion.

“Cabiri,” Bennacio said. There was a faraway-ness in his voice and eyes, as if he were already at the rendezvous point, the Sword of Kings within his grasp. “Stay.”

“Jeez, this is heartwarming,” Mike said. “Parting, the sweet sorrow thing and all that, but we're on a tight schedule here and we've got to get shaking.”

He opened the door and waved at Bennacio. I stepped forward with him.

“You're staying here, Al,” Mike said.

“Kropp is coming,” Bennacio said. “He is my second.”

“Your second
what
?” Mike asked.

“He will take up my sword should I fall.”

“No offense, Benny,” Mike said. “But if it were me, I'd take Cabiri here.”

“But I have no clearance,” Cabiri said sarcastically.

“Look, Ben,” Mike said in a tone usually reserved for a little kid. “The kid can't come.”

“Michael!” It was Abby. “We don't have time for this. Let him take the boy.”

Mike's mouth moved a little, but no sound came out. His face grew red.

“Headquarters is going to hear about this in my report,” he said.

“Headquarters is going to hear about many things,” Abby shot back.

Then she nodded to Jeff, who stuffed my head into that black sack again.

As we were going through the door I heard Bennacio say, “No, I shall lead him.” I felt a hand leave my elbow and another take its place.

Bennacio helped me into the backseat of the car and closed the door. After a second it opened again. I heard Cabiri saying, “No, no, no, Natalia . . .”

And I smelled peaches.

“Good-bye, Kropp,” her voice whispered. “Protect my father.”

The hood lifted over my right cheek, and I felt something warm and moist press against my chin. From the front seat, Mike let out a whistle and a loud whoop.

“ ‘Love is in the air!' ” he sang.

Then my door slammed closed and the gravel crunched beneath the tires as we started down the mountain.

I figured we had been driving for an hour at least before we finally stopped. I could hear the sound of a jet engine warming up. The hood was lifted and I was blinking in the blinding light, getting a sinking feeling when I saw the plane about a hundred feet away. Mike turned to me.

“It's not too late, Alfred. We can have another plane here in ten minutes.”

I looked at Bennacio, who had come to stand beside me.

“That's okay,” I said. “I'm coming.”

We walked up the stairs and took our seats. I took the aisle because I didn't want to look out the window. Mike put on a big pair of headphones. He said something into the microphone and the plane began to taxi toward the runway.

“Well, here we go!” Mike said. His cheeks were flushed. “This reminds me of the time the US Defense Department called us in to help with their little containment problem in Area Fifty-one! Whew, what a mess! But 'nuff said—that's classified!” He was shouting now as the plane began to accelerate, pushing me back in my chair as I fumbled for the safety belt: I had forgotten to fasten it. “Or the time we were lost for six days in the Bermuda Triangle! Talk about some funky vibes! Saw things in that operation that would turn your hair white!” He laughed in Bennacio's face. “But yours already is, so what the hey!”

Bennacio didn't say anything, but he had a disgusted look on his face. I was pretty sure he was going to kill Mike before all this was over. I wondered if Mike knew that and had similar plans for Bennacio. I felt almost sorry for Mike; he didn't know who he was screwing around with.

Mike explained that we would proceed immediately to the rendezvous point, where we would exchange the cash ransom for the Sword.

He wouldn't tell us exactly where the rendezvous point was, but he did say we would be met by some agents of OIPEP, or “The Company.” OIPEP agents never called OIPEP “OIPEP.” Maybe it was
Officers Investigating Perpetrators
of Evil Pranks.

“Let us do the talking,” Mike said. “All you got to do, Benny, is hang back and wait. I'll let you know when to step up and authenticate we've got the real McCoy.”

“And then?” Bennacio asked quietly.

“And then he's all yours. Have fun with your vengeance.”

“And the Sword?”

“Let's take it one step at a time, Benny. Let's get it back first, okay? Then you and my superiors can talk.”

Bennacio nodded, but I could tell he wasn't happy about it. My stomach was knotting up. I reached for the airsick bag.

After we touched down, I waited for the hood, but Mike just stood at the plane door and smiled at me, smacking his gum, and jerked his head toward the door. The sun had set and a cold, dense fog had rolled in. I wondered what the date was; I had lost track.

Mike led us to a pair of Bentleys parked on the tarmac. Bennacio had to reposition his sword so he could sit. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. After a minute his lips began to move as if he was saying a prayer. It probably
was
a prayer.

We turned off the main road onto a narrow lane that weaved through a forest. The headlights barely penetrated the fog, and I worried we'd run into a tree before we could even get there. Our driver was driving way too fast for the fog, but I had heard Europeans always drive too fast.

After another fifteen minutes or so the trees opened up and we were driving through a rolling countryside. In the distance, I could see floodlights shining on black shapes pointing like thick fingers at the night sky. I had seen this place before, and it wasn't until the car began to slow down that I realized that Mogart had chosen Stonehenge as the place where the fate of the world would be decided.

40

We parked about a hundred yards away from the lighted circle of stones. Huge spotlights had been set up just outside the circle, and the fog separated each beam as it shone into the center. The air was so cold, I could see my breath. Men in dark suits waited for us just outside the outer ring. One of them came over and said to Mike in an English accent, “No sign of our quarry yet, Mike. We've established the perimeter; he won't get within ten kilometers without us spotting him.”

Mike nodded and clapped the Brit on the back, but Bennacio said calmly, “No, he is already here.”

“I'm afraid that's quite imposs—” the British agent began, then stopped, because just then a group of robed men stepped from behind one of the larger stones ringing the center. Six of them, in black robes, with a tall man in the middle, wearing a white robe with the hood thrown back.

Mogart.

We stepped into the circle on the opposite side. The guys from OIPEP stood in front of me and Bennacio, seven in all, not counting us two. An even match, except Mogart had the Sword that no army or combination of armies could resist. Mike took one step toward Mogart and raised his hand.

“You're very punctual, Monsieur Mogart! That sort of thing impresses the living daylights out of me!”

“And you are late, Mr. Arnold,” Mogart answered. “I see you have brought some unexpected guests. How good it is to see you again, my brother knight.”

He bowed at Bennacio, and then looked at me. “And you, Mr. Kropp! How extraordinary that you are here! Please accept my gratitude for delivering the Sword!”

“You can go to hell,” I muttered under my breath. Bennacio touched me on the arm as if to say,
Be still
.

“Well,” Mike said. “Now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries, do you think we could talk a little business?”

“You Americans,” Mogart laughed. “Always so abrupt.”

Mike motioned to Paul, who reached into his coat and pulled out a long white envelope. Mike tossed it toward Mogart. It landed about three feet away and one of Mogart's men snatched it off the ground and handed it to Mogart.

“That is the location and the account number,” Mike called over. “Deliver the item and we'll give you the access code.”

Mogart peeked inside the envelope, a sly smile playing on the corners of his lips. He handed the envelope to the guy on his right and nodded to the one on his left. This guy walked into the circle holding something long and narrow wrapped in a golden cloth that shimmered in the glare of the floodlights. He laid it on the ground in the center of the ring and stepped back to rejoin Mogart.

“Okay, Benny,” Mike breathed. “You're on.”

Bennacio walked slowly past Mike. I started to follow him and he whispered to me, “No, Alfred. Only if I call.”

He walked alone into the center of the ring of stones and knelt beside the bundle lying on the ground, the cloth glittering and sparkling as he unfolded it. He made some motion with his right hand. It was hard to see from where I was, but it looked something like the sign of the cross.

I don't know everything that happened next, because a lot happened all at once, though it seemed to go in slow motion, like a car wreck. All of a sudden black-robed figures were flying from everywhere, swarming toward Bennacio, swords raised high over their heads. Paul yelled something beside me; I turned, and there was a swirl of black robes and the flash of a long black blade before it sank into Paul's back. There was the pop of small-arms fire on the other side of me. A head flew past my nose. It was Jeff's.

A figure in a black robe twirled past me: One of the British agents had him in a headlock, but he shuffled backwards and slammed the agent into one of the stones, breaking his grip, before turning to sink his sword into him to the hilt.