Preston Child - The Babylonian Mask

“Dr. Gould, you cannot exert yourself like that. Please leave, Mr. Cleave,” she demanded. Nina did not want to be rude to the medical staff, but there was no way she was leaving this matter unresolved.

“Hannah, please let us finish this discussion,” Nina implored.

“You can hardly breathe, Dr. Gould. You are not allowed to excite your nerves and send your heart rate through the roof like this,” Hannah reprimanded.

“I understand,” Nina replied quickly, keeping her tone cordial. “but please just allow Sam and I a few more minutes.”

“What is wrong with the television?” Hannah asked, perplexed by the constant broadcast interruptions and ghosting of the images. “I’ll get maintenance to have a look at our antenna.” With that she left the room, giving one last look back at Nina to impress what she’d said. Nina nodded in return.

“Good luck fixing that aerial,” Sam smiled.

“Where is Purdue?” Nina asked.

“I told you. He is busy linking up satellites under his umbrella companies’ operations to the remote access of his clandestine accomplices.”

“I mean, where is he? Is he in Edinburgh? Is he in Germany?”

“Why?” asked Sam.

“Answer me!” she demanded, scowling.

“You did not want him anywhere near you, so now he is staying away.” Now it was out. He had said it, unbelievably defending Purdue to Nina. “He is seriously contrite about what happened in Chernobyl and you treated him like shit in Mannheim. What do you expect?”

“Wait, what?” she snapped at Sam. “He tried to kill me! Do you understand the level of distrust that cultivates?”

“Aye, I do! I do. And keep your voice down before Nurse Betty comes in again. I know what it is like to be plummeted into despair, my life threatened by those I trusted. You cannot possibly believe that he would ever deliberately want to harm you, Nina. For Christ’s sake, he loves you!”

He stopped, but it was too late. Nina was disarmed, for what it was worth, but Sam already regretted his uttering. The last thing he needed to remind her of was Purdue’s unrelenting pursuit of her affection. Already Sam was in many ways inferior to Purdue, in his own opinion. Purdue was a genius with charm to match, independently wealthy with a legacy of holdings, estates and technologically advanced patents. His reputation was stellar as explorer, benefactor and inventor.

All Sam had was a Pulitzer and several other awards and commendations. Apart from three books and a bit of money from his share in Purdue’s treasure hunts, Sam had a penthouse apartment and a cat.

“Answer my question,” she said plainly, observing the sting in Sam’s eyes at possibly losing her. “I promise to play nice if Purdue gets me in contact with the W.U.O. head office.”

“We don’t even know if Marduk has the mask yet,” Sam was grabbing at straws to mar Nina’s advance.

“That’s fine. Until we know for sure we may as well arrange my representation of the W.U.O. at the signing, so that Prof. Sloane’s people can arrange logistics and security accordingly. “After all,” she sighed, “with a petite brunette showing up with or without Sloane’s face, it would be easier to cry hoax at the reports, right?”

“Purdue is at Wrichtishousis as we speak,” Sam surrendered. “I’ll get hold of him and tell him about your proposal.”

“Thank you,” she replied gently, while the television screen blinked between channels by itself, settling briefly on test signals. Suddenly it stopped on a global news station that had not been rendered powerless yet. Nina’s eyes were glued to the screen. She was ignoring Sam’s morose silence for the moment.

“Sam, look!” she exclaimed and lifted her hand with difficulty to point to the television. Sam turned around. The reporter appeared with her microphone with the C.I.T.E. offices in the Hague behind her.

“Turn it up!” Sam cried, grabbing at the remote control and pressing a myriad of incorrect buttons before getting the volume increased in escalating green bars upon the high definition screen. By the time they could hear what she was saying she was three sentences into her speech.

“…here at the Hague, following reports of Professor Marta Sloane’s alleged assassination yesterday at her holiday residence in Cardiff. The media has been unsuccessful in confirming these reports, as the Professor’s spokesperson has been unavailable for comment.”

“Good, at least they are still unsure about the facts,” Nina remarked. The report continued from the studio where the newscaster added more information on another development.

However, in light of the approaching summit for the signing of the peace treaty between the Meso-Arabian states and the W.U.O. the office of Meso-Arabia’s leader, Sultan Yunus ibn Meccan had announced a change of plan.

“Aye, here it comes now. Fucking war,” Sam growled as he sat listening in anticipation.

“The Meso-Arabian House of Representatives has altered the agreement to have the treaty signed in the city of Susa, Meso-Arabia, following threats against the life of the Sultan by association.”

Nina drew a deep breath. “So now it’s Susa or war. Now do you still think my wearing of the Babylonian Mask is not pivotal to the future of world as a whole?”

Werner knew he was not allowed to leave the office while Schmidt was talking to the visitors, but he had to find out where Marlene was being kept. If he could get hold of Sam, the journalist could use his contacts to trace the call she’d made to Werner’s cell phone. He was especially impressed by the legal jargon flowing expertly from the mouth of the British journalist while she beguiled Schmidt with her impression of a lawyer from the W.U.O. head office.

Suddenly Marduk interrupted the conversation. “My apologies, Captain Schmidt, but may I please use your gents’ room? We were in such haste to come to your base with all these fast developing matters that I admit I neglected my bladder.”

Schmidt was only too helpful. He did not want to put forward a bad image to the W.U.O., as they were currently in control of his base and his superiors. Until he’d fulfilled his flaming coup of their authority he had to comply and kiss ass as far as necessary to keep up appearances.

“Of course! Of course,” Schmidt replied. “Lieutenant Werner, would you please escort our guest to the men’s room? And remember to ask… Marlene …for clearance to the B-block, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Werner replied. “Please come with me, sir.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. You know, when you reach my age, constant toilet visits are compulsory and drawn out. Cherish your youth.”

Schmidt and Margaret chuckled at Marduk’s remark as Werner followed in Marduk’s tracks. He took note of Schmidt’s subtle, encoded warning that Marlene’s life was at stake if Werner tried anything out of his sight. They left the office at a slow pace to emphasize the ruse to win them more time. As soon as they were out of earshot, Werner pulled Marduk aside.

“Mr. Marduk, please, you have to help me,” he whispered.

“That is why I’m here. Your failure to contact me and that less than effectively hidden warning from your superior gave it away,” Marduk replied. Werner stared at the old man in admiration. It was unbelievable how perceptive Marduk was, especially for someone his age.

“My God, I love sharp people,” Werner finally said.

“So do I, son. So do I. And on that note, did you at least find out where he keeps the Babylonian Mask?” he asked. Werner nodded.

“But first we have to secure our absence,” Marduk said. “Where is your infirmary?”