Tyranny of Coins (The Judas Chronicles, #5) Page 12

  “Stop, William!” Beatrice squeezed my fingers and pulled me back from berating the pair, presently caught up in their private revelry. Both wore soundproof headsets and were unaware a very angry ‘Dad’ stood behind them. “Let them be. This is how your son as a young man blows off stress. You’ll see. When you need him to be on point, he’ll come through for you. And, surely, there will be something useful he can draw upon from the decades he spent as a decorated academic.”

  She had a point… well, sort of. But I needed to step away from the nonsense and clear my head. Perhaps wisely, my wife encouraged me to finish our tour of the upstairs areas without her. Since she and Amy would likely have time to look later, she wanted a moment with Alistair before he set out on Krontos’ assigned quest with me in a couple of hours. Lunch was supposed to be served around one o’clock, and I told her I’d come back for her. We shared a short, passionate kiss before I set out on my own.

  I hadn’t thought about the pair of coins in Krontos’ possession since leaving Germany, and hardly anything about his Silver Trinity of Death. However, once I left the second floor and took the long flight of marble stairs to the third floor, a familiar tingling commenced. Only, it was stronger than what I was used to experiencing. Abrupt and very odd. Normally, the sensation begins to hit me when I’m within fifty miles of a blood coin.

  The coins… they’re near!

  The castle had five floors, and the rumor had always been that Krontos’ bedchamber was on the fourth floor—one floor below torture chambers of legend, though nothing had ever been verified to Roderick’s and my knowledge.

  But what lay hidden behind the doors on the third floor, I wondered?

  The floor’s condition wasn’t near as lavish as the rest of the castle we visited thus far. With Krontos’ access to unlimited funds, both as an ancient immortal and moving through dimensions to confiscate whatever appealed to him, there likely was another reason for the neglect. This wasn’t a floor to be shown off to guests, and it seemed unlikely anyone slept in the half dozen rooms to either side of the gallery overlooking the grand foyer.

  Fearful Krontos might suddenly interrupt this unforeseen opportunity to locate my coins, I quieted my breathing and focused my spirit on finding the room. Drawn stronger to the right wing as opposed to the left, I crept along the dusty carpet runner. It seemed almost too obvious that the door pulling me was the middle one, where the carpet’s embroidered imagery was slightly less defined due to heavier foot traffic. But, the tingling along my left arm to the point of pain was unmistakable.

  Getting inside the room could be a problem. The other areas we had explored featured areas open for viewing. All doors on this floor were closed, and presumably locked. Tall and heavy, the oak door didn’t give at first, despite the latch clicking open. I almost walked away from what could be a bigger problem than it was worth. But I couldn’t leave without giving it one good shove.

  The door groaned tiredly as it opened. I stepped into a room immersed in darkness. No windows. Two large cobalt halos glowed within the pitch-black environment. The same color as my coins, the size of each was a hundred times too big. It meant something else caused them to glow like this, harkening back to my experience with Genghis Khan’s mantle of death.

  “There are pictures of those symbols in the book I was reading.”

  I whirled around in the darkness, pulling out my cell phone to use as a flashlight. Cedric beat me to the punch, shining his Galaxy in my face.

  “This is an incredible achievement,” he said.

  “We can’t see much of anything in here,” I said, knowing he couldn’t see the glow… or could he? Things had changed for the former Agent Tomlinson since his Bolivian experience.

  “I’m not talking about what’s in here, man. It’s awesome that I snuck up on you without you having any idea I’ve been watching you.” He laughed.

  “Well, enjoy it while you can, my friend. It’ll likely never happen again, I assure you!”

  Footsteps from several more people approached, followed by another running to catch up.

  “William? Cedric?” Roderick called from outside the door. The rest of our gang was with him

  “We’re in here, man!” Cedric pointed his cell phone light at the doorway.

  Roderick’s lanky figure stepped inside followed by Beatrice’s wisps of strawberry blonde hair caught in the light’s glow. A much smaller figure swept into the room behind them and turned on an overhead light as Amy and Alistair stepped inside.

  “Wow,” said Roderick, in a hushed, almost reverent tone followed by similar responses from everyone else.

  In an instant, a row of crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light upon rows of artifacts. Artifacts from many eras of history. The most obvious were from Constantine, the Inquisition, and Nazi Germany. The bluish objects glowing hotly in the darkness remained, and flanked a swastika banner hanging from a large wooden podium.

  “The full ‘sun cross’ on one side and the broken version on the other. How fitting for a man wanting to make sure he has everything covered,” Roderick whispered to me, shortly before Krontos approached. Our host looked both annoyed and amused, and I had a good idea what events corresponded to his bipolar expression. “I wish you luck in getting out of this one without a tongue lashing.”

  Roderick chuckled as he stepped aside. Beatrice moved closer, as if to protect me. I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Well, Judas, if nothing else, I see your ability to track energy trails is as strong as ever. That’s very good, since you’ll need that gift to find my coin,” he said, moving toward the twin steel stands supporting the slightly different sun crosses. He lovingly stroked the banner as if it belonged to a Christian saint. “Would you all like to hear a little story about Adolf Hitler?”

  Not really. After all, we had recently visited two terrible sites created by the man’s depravity, and were about to revisit Auschwitz.

  “Bear with me anyway,” said Krontos, a slight reddish glow tinting his irises, the wrath apparently harder to subdue. I guess I wasn’t supposed to find this sacred place of his. “Adolf Hitler was referred to me by a friend who discovered this charismatic lad in his early days. Though merely a casual acquaintance at first, I soon saw what he could be and began to groom him for the role he was perfect for. It has always been a proud moment to know I influenced the rise and fall of the Third Reich.”

  “You really were friends with Hitler?”

  Heat embraced my face and crept down my shoulders and back. I deeply resented the fact Krontos had aligned himself with such a devil, but to call Hitler a friend? It took a supreme effort not to lash out at him.

  “Why, of course,” he said, smiling slyly. “But, you and others misjudge my friendship with him. History only sees the bad of Hitler, and largely because his reign was cut short. Very few great leaders of the world would be seen as benevolent, if their reign ended prematurely and before a purge of those who stood in the way of the new order of things was successful. The Nazis were no more evil, as you are apt to think, Judas, than Genghis Khan, Alexander the Great, or Julius Caesar, to name a few. Hitler’s reign was incomplete. And, know this, as your anger begins to boil against me, old friend, your ancestors once sought to purge what they considered impure nations from the land they invaded. The ‘Land of Canaan’ was no more ordained by Almighty God to be handed to the Israelites than Europe to the Germans. Were the Canaanites allowed to coexist with the new invaders flooding into their homeland? Hmmmm? Or, even where you reside now, how many ethnic Native Americans remain, after nearly four hundred years of slaughter and discrimination, and moments like Andrew Jackson’s Trail of Tears forced upon the proud Cherokee?”

  Hard to refute what happened in America after the first white settlers arrived along the eastern seaboard. If not for the rise of profitable gambling facilities, the last of America’s native peoples could be extinct by the end of the twenty-first century. More inconvenient was the dig against my Jewish brethren.
As anyone familiar with Hebrew history, or the Torah and Old Testament, will tell you, the Gentile peoples living in the ‘Promised Land’ were in fact purged by my ancestors. Under the auspices of Jehovah, no less. Was it genocide on a much smaller scale? Perhaps… but many of the Canaanites were eventually absorbed into Hebrew society. That alone refuted Krontos’ skewed view.

  Regardless, nothing could ever support the actions of the Nazis, whose motives were more likely rooted in removing the economic status of those who controlled the wealth of Europe in the early twentieth century. What better way to do it than to feed a propaganda campaign designed to dehumanize Jewish people? Turn them into animals and one can steal their possessions. Shamefully, this concept has long been with us as a race. Examples in my new homeland, America, include Salem, during the witch trials, and the aforementioned Trail of Tears, the removal of ‘savages’ from white civilization.

  “So you see, Judas. Pushing one nation aside to make room for another has been a hallmark of mankind for thousands of years,” continued Krontos, ignoring my indignation to speak. “It certainly should give pause to those humanists who believe the human race is evolving, eh?”

  “Maybe the human race hasn’t evolved to where we should be by now,” I conceded. “However, the level of cruelty demonstrated by Nazi Germany was unprecedented. Not even your protégé, Vlad Tepes, could top the barbaric and systematic removal of one’s enemies like Hitler and his cohorts set out to do. And, if the Germans had won the war, by now their unsustainable philosophy would have run its course and we would be fighting through an unfathomable anarchy—the likes the world has never seen.”

  Alistair offered a proud nod, and I could almost feel Roderick’s pleasure at a response to shut down the rhetoric. But this was Krontos’ turf, and to humiliate him was dangerous.

  “It is best to please the host, indeed,” he said, smiling smugly as he announced his response to my thoughts before the group. Most were getting used to it by now, although Amy and Beatrice exchanged curious glances until they saw the acknowledgement on my face. “We should break for lunch and send the boys on their way. Shall we?”

  He motioned politely for our ladies to go first and the rest to follow. As he shut the lights behind us, I took one last glance at the pair of sun circles glowing in the sudden darkness. From a distance, the glistening blue symbols of the Third Reich reminded me of my coins, still hidden somewhere in the castle. Could they somehow be responsible for the familiar light?

  It became the only thing I could think about, until it was time to leave for Auschwitz.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I was reluctant to release Beatrice from the tight embrace we shared. Cultivating a mutual fear of what lay ahead, it felt wrong to leave her behind with Krontos. As the guys and I headed north, my mind was repeatedly drawn to her and the Nazi sun crosses we had seen upstairs in the castle. Had Krontos defiled my blood coins to where they now performed a diabolical function far beyond their original accursed status? After all, what else could cause their steel casings to glow with a cobalt sheen?

  “A better question is why does Krontos wish to deal with a coin that has only brought blessings to the Jewish family carrying it for so many years?” said Roderick, picking up on my silent musings. For the trip north, Roderick usurped the driving privileges, and I joined him up front. Alistair and Cedric sat behind us. “With his obvious affections for Hitler and the Nazis’ agenda, you would think he would fear retribution from The Almighty.”

  I had considered the same thing, and wondered if it would similarly curse the murdering thief who took it from Franz Reifenstahl. But after Krontos provided us with no more details surrounding the murders than we already gathered on our own, finding out who killed the dealer and took the coin seemed virtually impossible. Without a miracle, we would be searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

  “Are you pilfering Pops’ head again?” Alistair quipped, drawing a chuckle from Cedric. “Because if you are, it would be polite to let those of us in the backseat know what silent question prompted your response.”

  Roderick and I exchanged amused glances and smirks.

  “All right, Ali. I was thinking about something you guys probably missed detecting inside Krontos’ ‘tyrant relics’ room,” I said. “Something unusual.”

  “What? That his Nazi crosses were glowing blue?”

  Damn. Cedric saw that shit?

  “Yeah, it’s one way to describe them,” I said, feeling sorry for my kid, who looked irritated being excluded again. “To be honest, I’m not sure what to think of the room’s contents.”

  “Well, it seems fitting that a crazy old immortal would be the asshole to influence the worst genocidal campaign in history—even if it wasn’t his original intent to kill every Jew in Europe,” said Alistair, deflecting the conversation away from what his eyes couldn’t discern.

  “The hell you say, son.” My inner temperature began to rise as my pity evaporated. “It was always Krontos’ intent to kill each and every Jew residing in Europe. Always. He could’ve stopped it, too, and did not. He hates—”

  “Those of Hebrew descent?” interrupted Roderick. “Absolutely, which is why I’m reminding you to never trust him. Krontos is asking us to retrieve one of the few noble objects to emerge from the war, and you know his intent will never benefit the good of mankind. It’s obviously the centerpiece of his latest master plan. I’m surprised, though, that you didn’t hear the louder call of two coins this time. Maybe carrying the Dragon Coin on your person muted the others’ response, or hindered your ability to hear either one’s call.”

  “I heard at least one of my other coins call to me this morning,” I confessed. “At least one is in the castle, and I believe they both are. Likely, they’re somewhere near the circle crosses. Otherwise, what else could cause these Nazi occult symbols to glow like that? Once Krontos entered the room, the sensation of ownership ceased, but those damned crosses continued to glow. Maybe Krontos has created something that mimics the glow of my blood coins.”

  “Sounds like this old buddy of yours is having a ball messing with your head,” said Cedric. “Hell, man, it’s Halloween. Maybe none of the shit we saw in the castle is real. Of course, if that’s true, then we are four of the sorriest dumbasses to ever live, pursuing a wild goose chase while Beatrice and Amy are at this monster’s mercy.”

  “Krontos has never been a friend,” I said. Sourness seized my stomach. “This feels more and more like a mistake. Rod, what if Cedric’s right?”

  Roderick hesitated before responding, perhaps still sorting through Cedric’s observation.

  “Anything is possible,” he said, for the moment maintaining our present course. It would be roughly an hour’s journey to the castle, should we abort our trip to Poland and immediately return. “But before we throw caution to the wind and head back to face an angry and potentially violent menace, we need to consider everything very seriously. We can’t afford to take Krontos’ latest threats lightly. I doubt we’d get the same mercy we received last night for disobeying his edict to stay put in America. He seemed almost hostile this afternoon in his directive to not return to Hungary without a winning lead to tracking down the coin’s location.

  “Yeah, he was a complete asshole,” Cedric agreed.

  “Who cares if Krontos was a jerk? Pops, maybe you should’ve said something about your misgivings to him before we left,” said Alistair, accusingly. His ruddy complexion was turning ashen. “Better yet, you could’ve listened to Mom and headed back to Berlin yesterday from Auschwitz, instead of pressing forward into Hungary. I think we made a big mistake in coming.”

  His handsome brown eyes that had always encouraged comparisons to Sean Connery, and made me think of my older brother Joseph, misted without their usual gleam. His shoulders heaved, but then he caught himself. An admirable effort to keep the churning emotional deluge at bay.

  “I know you’re worried about Amy and your mom,” I told him, mindful to soun
d compassionate, and holding back my indignation at being chastised like a damned fool. “I’m worried too, Ali. But Krontos doesn’t make idle threats. We had no choice other than to cooperate with his whims.”

  “Krontos strikes me as a solution kind of guy,” Cedric interjected. “As in Final Solution. Since we won’t reach Auschwitz until after the place closes, maybe we’ve been set up for failure. And, that’s taking in consideration what I heard him mention about easier detection of residual energy at night. Just sayin’.”

  Admittedly, things looked increasingly grim. Not to mention, Krontos didn’t give us much to go on from the outset, despite earlier assurances to the contrary. In addition to the bullshit about detecting extinct energy trails at night, only our accommodations in Berlin were discussed. Along with a promise for more information to be delivered when we arrived at the hotel picked out by Krontos. The Rocco Forte Hotel.

  As for our upcoming Auschwitz visit, Roderick and I were instructed to seek specific ‘psychic’ connections from the barracks to the Nazis who took possession of the Stutthof-Auschwitz coin. From there, the idea was to somehow track the faint essence of the coin using the same kind of images. Once in Berlin, our instructions were to focus on the final moments of Franz Riefenstahl’s earthly existence. Hopefully, we’d catch a glimpse of the murdering thief who lifted the coin from Riefenstahl’s corpse.

  “I agree this all seems like a slipshod assignment,” I said. “Tell you what, guys… let me call Beatrice. If the conversation feels out of sorts—regardless of what she says to assure me otherwise—we’ll turn around and head back to the castle.”

  Roderick hesitated at first, but everyone soon supported the idea. Fortunately, the cell reception was good enough to make the connection, though I could tell from the static between rings that a clear conversation would be difficult.

  “Hey, hon’.” Beatrice answered, her tone worried. “Are you all right?” I pictured Krontos standing nearby, listening while watching her reaction.