Preston Child - The Fountain of Youth

With the wind properly out of his sails the flabbergasted butler walked over to Campbell and handed him the phone. “It’s for you, sir.”

Looking as perplexed as the butler, Campbell took the call.

“Purdue?”

Charles waited patiently for his master to complete the call, feeling a right twit. He pretended to look out over the porch furniture while he waited, trying to eavesdrop, but he heard little more than muttering from the police investigator who paced the driveway.

At last the cop came smiling, returning the phone. To Charles’ surprise, he was not gloating. Instead he passed it on, “Talk to your boss quick, alright? Hurry, we have plans to make.”

“Listen, Charles,” Purdue said, “I’ve asked Campbell to alert Interpol about Guterman. His lackey here is going to let him know that Nina and I will be traveling to the Faroe Islands post haste. We’re going to bait her into it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need you to call my flight crew to charter a flight to Vágar Airport, Faroe Islands with my private jet,” Purdue instructed as Charles ran into the library room next to the dining hall.

“Sir, just one moment, please. I’m getting a pen and paper,” he puffed as his polished Italians clapped on the marble floor. “Right! Faroe Islands airport. Shall I send the jet to collect you at the nearest airfield in Hampshire?”

“No, no, Charles,” Purdue rushed. “You know how I always tell you to use initiative?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Today is not that day, alright?” Purdue said hurriedly. “Just take down the information and execute the orders. Just for today.”

“Yes, sir.”

Campbell smiled as he watched the red-faced youth scribble down what he already knew. He gave the lad a quick wave to announce his departure and hoped he would get the instructions right and not foul it up for everyone involved.

Purdue had made the arrangements, but he was no calmer. Nina was in a bad way, wheezing and shaking, regardless of the blankets they’d covered her with. He was talking in her ear and holding her hand while she slipped in and out of consciousness.

“We can’t administer fluids or blood too quickly, Mr. Purdue,” Mrs. Patterson advised. “It would be deadlier than her current threats.”

She didn’t notice the menacing frame of Clara Rutherford stealing towards her from behind, holding an old heart monitor box from Prof. Ebner’s collection above her head. With his eyes on Nina, Purdue also did not see her come. As she aimed the steel box at Mrs. Patterson a loud gunshot clapped from nowhere, propelling the assailant backward from the force of the second and third slugs that dissembled Clara’s youthful looks in an instant.

Purdue’s jaw dropped and a cowering Mrs. Patterson held onto him for support as Mrs. Cotswald lowered her gun. “Stay away from my daughter, you bitch.”

“Mrs. Cotswald? You are a godsend! Holy shit! I can’t believe what just happened!” Purdue exclaimed in amazement. It seemed to him that whatever was in the Fountains of Youth not only prolonged youthful regeneration, but also kept courageous attitude intact. “You ladies are something, I tell you that,” he huffed, on edge from the whole night’s negative excitement.

But the elderly ladies heard nothing. They were locked in embrace, weeping at their strange reunion after a lifetime of being apart. “You know, I’ve never called anyone ‘Mum’ before,” Mrs. Patterson admitted. “Rather odd to start now, right?”

Mrs. Cotswald, overjoyed at being with one of her daughters again, shook her head and chuckled through the tears. “I’ve searched for you for so long, my darling. Better late than never!”

“She isn’t going to make it, Mr. Purdue,” Mrs. Patterson warned. “She’s lost too much blood already.”

“I will not accept that!” he barked. “I will give every drop I have to save her. The cancer she suffers from is my doing and I will not let her die!”

“My God, what did they do to you?” Mrs. Cotswald asked the emaciated Nina, who’s eyes barely looked at her.

“They harvested…m-my blo—,” Nina spoke through arid lips. “Lita’s blood…”

“Lita Røderick? You were the vial everyone in the Order was speaking of?” Mrs. Cotswald gasped. “ The Vial is a person? God, that is sick, even for them!”

“The Vial?” Purdue asked.

“In the Order, ever since Hitler promised my dance instructor that I would ‘stay pretty forever,’ there’d been myths all over the globe about the Fountains of Youth that contained such regenerative properties that those who drank it or bathed in it would defy aging,” Mrs. Cotswold explained. “I just never thought they really used people to carry the genetically engineered blueprint!”

“Lita?” Purdue reminded her.

The elderly woman looked annoyed. “Lita was a monster, not a person.”

“Nina was almost killed while we locked horns with Lita’s imps, and that was when they transfused her blood into Nina’s body,” Purdue filled her in.

“I’d heard the story, but thought it was a farce. Who could believe that there was a Fountain of Youth with blood capable of impeding cell division, in other words, to thwart aging as far as science permitted?” She placed her hand on Nina’s clammy forehead and revealed, “You, my dear, are the Fountain of Youth the Order has been referring to.”

Purdue was shocked. “But she has cancer. That’s all about rapid cell division!”

“Yes, but had she not been The Vial of Life, the Font of Youth, the illness would have spread far quicker. Had she had normal blood, your poor lady friend here would have perished months ago,” Mrs. Cotswald clarified. She smiled sweetly and took Mrs. Patterson’s hand. “And here I was, looking in all the wrong places for mountain springs and rock fountains all these years, hoping to put a hold on aging until I’ve seen my beloved daughters.”

Nina drew a deep breath and groaned out a few words. “She says we must hurry up because G-Goo…no, Guter-m…”

“Guterman?” Purdue asked quickly.

“Aye,” Nina said. “Coming to kill you s-s-soon.”

“Who told you that, deary?” Mrs. Patterson asked Nina.

“Gertie. Gertie says…w-we…” Nina passed out.

“Who the hell is Gertie?” Purdue asked, hoping that it was not one more opponent to evade.

Both the old ladies stood dumbstruck, until Mrs. Patterson finally said, “Gertrud was my sister. She drowned in the fountain outside many years ago.”

Mrs. Cotswald held back her tears. She hadn’t known that her other daughter had died before she could meet her. Mrs. Patterson smiled and held her mother’s hand. “Well, it looks like she’s still hanging around with us, hey…Mum?”

As if possessed suddenly, Mrs. Cotswald rolled up her sleeves, looking absolutely focused. “Anna, dear, care to run a tab for Dr. Gould from the Bar of Cotswald? I hear the elixir behind that bar is downright surreal.”

Purdue cried out an exclamation of joy!

“Coming right up, Dr. Gould,” Mrs. Patterson smiled and made haste to get her mother’s virtually immortal donation to Nina.”

“Don’t you have to be the same type?” Purdue panicked.

“Not to worry. The blood used in engineering super soldiers like Lita Røderick came from a single source in 1945. Yours truly,” Mrs. Cotswald boasted. “If Lita’s blood was flowing in Nina’s, it’s safe to use mine.”

“So you are the original Fountain of Youth,” Mrs. Patterson praised her mother.

“I’m very concerned about your injury, Mrs. Patterson,” Purdue said.

“It’s not near any major arteries, love. First things first, right?” she told the amicable young man.