Carpathian (48 page)

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Authors: David Lynn Golemon

BOOK: Carpathian
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“You mean the man in the dirty suit?” she said low enough that only Jack could hear.

“Yeah, that man just happens to be Colonel Avi Ben-Nevin, Israeli Mossad, the man that tried his best to kill Carl, Ryan, and our man at the Vatican. And a man I can only assume is on the run.”

“And now he’s here.”

“It just may turn out to be an explosive weekend.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“We do our job and hope that Ryan and Pete find Everett.” Collins stopped and waited for the elevator but turned and faced Sarah.

“That may be hard to do with you telling Zallas who we are. But you’re right,” she said, easing her look toward the filthy man at the front desk and then just as quickly looking back at Jack. “This is trouble.”

Jack frowned as the elevator doors opened.

“That is an alliance we didn’t see coming.”

“Well, we’re not fortune-tellers and we’re sure as hell not Europa,” he said with a smile as they stepped into the elevator.

“Or Gypsies.”

VILLAGE OF PATINAS

Carl and Charlie had been unceremoniously pushed into what amounted to a small barn. The place smelled like goats or sheep, Everett couldn’t decide which, or if it even mattered. Anya, Marko, and quite a few of the men who had captured them had eased Mikla onto a makeshift stretcher made from the front door of a nearby house. The door was far too small to accommodate the size of the animal but the men managed to get him out of the stuffy van.

The strange thing was that when Mikla was exposed to the outside for the first time after being moved into the open air, the mountain around them came alive with noise and Everett and Charlie could swear they heard howling. Carl hoped it was his imagination because the sounds had to have been made by, many hundreds of wolves.

The captain watched the small house in the center of the town through a break in the wooden slats that made up the facade of the barn. Everett knew he could punch out one of the slats with ease, but he had decided to play this out and hope that the woman made someone listen to reason. He watched as even more of the villagers made their way to the house where Marko and Anya had vanished.

Ellenshaw tapped Carl on the shoulder.

“Look at this,” he said pointing out a small window on the south side of the barn.

The captain stepped to the small window and saw a hundred people on the road leading to Patinas. They were men, women, children and they had goats, a cow, a wagon with several pigs inside, and they were all smiling and looked as if they were on their way to a large picnic or small fair. The music they played as they walked along the road was festive and was made up of tambourines, violins, flutes, and horns. The music grew louder as they came upon the village.

“They must be from the nearby towns,” Everett said as he watched the progression of brightly dressed Gypsies.

“What are they here for?” Charlie asked as he strained to see over Carl’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

*   *   *

Madam Korvesky held her granddaughter to her chest and cried. Marko, feeling uncomfortable at first, softened as he watched both women, his only true blood in the world sob over the years that had been lost.

Marko turned away and ran his hand through the thick black fur of Mikla. The wolf lay still and allowed Marko to stroke him. The beast closed its yellow glowing eyes and that was when he placed his hand on Mikla’s head and pressed ever so slightly as the animal dosed. Marko tilted his head as his hand moved by small increments around the beast’s skull. Mikla winced once in his sleep and then settled.

A fleeting vision of Anya came to his mind and then the face of a man he didn’t recognize. The tan face and thin build, the pencil-thin mustache, nothing was recognizable. Of course he knew he was seeing this vision through the muted gray-green spectrum of vision that the Golia used, but the vision was clear in Marko’s eyes. Mikla saw this man as a threat, one that meant harm to Anya, whom Mikla had been sent to protect. Words intruded into Marko’s thoughts and the spell was broken. He felt the small headache but it wasn’t as severe as the spell he would have normally used with Stanus, which would have drained his mind of all activity for hours. He felt a sharp but momentary pain in his right ankle and then he turned to face his grandmother.

“Marko, are you listening to me?”

He blinked and then smiled. “Yes,” he said simply and as matter-of-factly as he could after seeing the man that was trying to kill his sister far more distinctly than her mere description of him.

“Well, are you going to tell them that now is not the right time for song and dance? There will be ample time for them to celebrate after I have seen to Mikla.”

Finally Marko heard the cacophony coming from outside the village. The locals were starting to gather, something he had been fearful of ever since his grandmother had mentioned Anya was returning home. The music was loud and the people boisterous, which caused Marko a pang of jealousy and also of worry that there were now too many Jeddah eyes around Patinas for what was happening far below at the resort. The gathering was not wanted or needed at this time.

“I will see to it,” he said as he turned and patted Mikla one last time on the cheek. The wolf whined deep in its throat and then stilled again. Marko left without looking at either woman.

“Your brother has brought great trouble upon us I fear,” Madam Korvesky said as she watched her grandson leave. “He has done this for a cause that he sees as just, but I fear will bring the world down upon us.”

Anya wiped tears from her eyes as she stood and faced her grandmother.

“This is why I am to stay?”

Madam Korvesky smiled and then looked her grown granddaughter over as she held out a hand for assistance to stand from her large chair.

“No, your mission for the Jeddah is at an end. We have no more reason for eyes on the world, and especially eyes placed in Israel.”

“I do not understand,” Anya said as she helped her grandmother over to the door that had been placed between two large sawhorses from the barn. She watched as the old woman placed a weathered hand on Mikla’s shoulder, being sure to stay away from the animal’s head. She wanted him sleeping for what she had to do. She patted him easily and the wolf huffed and then went still.

“We are at a crossroads, my child. The world has started to gather more knowledge than we can suppress.” She turned and faced Anya with a sad look. “And I’m afraid your brother is the cause. He was blinded and now he is beginning to gather his wits about him and truly see that which he has set in motion.” Madam Korvesky looked down at Mikla and stroked his thick fur as he slept. She ran her hand easily down the full length of the beast, limping as she moved.

Anya stepped over to assist but the old woman shook her head as her hand came in contact with the break in the right hind ankle.

“He did this thinking he would make life easier for the Jeddah. And now the world has learned many things, and this knowledge cannot leave here.”

“Fool,” Anya said as she shook her head at the naïveté of her older brother. “What are we facing?” she asked, now afraid of the answer.

The old Gypsy queen stopped as she felt the small break in the bone. She tilted her head and closed her eyes. She was feeling her own touch in her swollen ankle and she knew it was comforting not only to herself but also to Mikla. She nodded her head and then took a deep breath.

“It’s not as bad as I thought,” she said as she smiled and then rubbed the muscled leg of the Golia. “We’ll have you fixed up in no time, you clumsy wolf,” she said laughing at her own words.

“Grandmother, what are we facing?” Anya insisted.

“Nothing but the total end of our way of life.” The old woman said it far too easily for Anya to be sure she heard the statement correctly.

“Surely things are not that—”

“And I’m not sure if that is a bad thing.”

Now Anya was totally stunned. She grasped the old wooden door to stabilize her wobbly legs as she felt her heart break at the thought of losing the mountain and what they have protected for thirty-five hundred years.

Before Anya could say anything the old woman held her hand up to still the questions she knew was coming.

“We can discuss this after we take care of Mikla. We must hurry him to the temple as soon as he is able. The other Golia may relax when he returns unharmed.”

Anya watched as her grandmother prepared for the healing spells that would not only make the pain easier to bear for Mikla but also herself. She stepped up and took hold of her by her elbows and helped her walk to her kitchen that was only a few paces away.

“And then we can discuss this rather large American stray you brought home.”

“He saved my—”

Again the smile and the hand stopped Anya from speaking.

“And you know how I feel about strays. You were always bringing home some animal for healing or for loving.” She turned with her smile still in place. “But I feel this particular stray means something a little more to my granddaughter.”

The hand again stopped Anya from speaking and she became frustrated as her grandmother started rummaging through her boxes and cabinets for the items needed for the healing spell.

“I’m a Gypsy, my dear, and some of the stories about us are true. I know you’ve been absent for a long while, so I’ll let you have your doubts. But I can feel this man has caught your heart.” She stopped rummaging and turned to face the young woman who looked just like her when she was at the same age. “Hear me, girl,” she said, losing the smile and becoming deadly serious. “Things are going to change, and now may not be the best time for such things as your American stray to be near the Jeddah.”

Anya didn’t want to go into any form of denial with her grandmother. She was old and she wasn’t reading things like she used to. But the news about her brother was now starting to weigh heavily on her. She smiled and then kissed her grandmother on the cheek.

“Your visionary aptitude has gone astray, Grandmamma, the American has no interest in a Gypsy from the mountains.”

The old woman chuckled.

“You have been gone far too long. I have missed your smile so much. And I won’t even say what a horrible liar you are.”

Her grandmother took Anya in her arms and hugged her as if for the last time.

*   *   *

From what Niles could tell, the five men in the Army Humvee liked being in the procession of cars, vans, and other old and rusted vehicles. They nodded and pointed at vehicles they recognized from bygone days. Everything from rusted-out Chevys to French-made Citroëns.

“This is amazing,” Alice said from the backseat of the hard-riding Humvee.

“That’s one word for it. I thought most of these cars and trucks would have been scrap sometime after the Kennedy assassination. What do you think is happening to draw so many Gypsies to the pass?”

“I’ve always heard about it, but no one I have ever spoken to has ever seen a Gathering.”

“It’s a gathering all right,” Niles said as he watched an old and battered Toyota pickup slide by them with ten children and several more adults in the back. They were jabbering away and laughing. Niles shook his head. “A gathering of what I don’t know. Look at their clothes, the styles they’re wearing, it’s like I’m looking back in time at several different ages. The sixties mostly, but maybe even as far back as the eighteen nineties. It’s amazing.”

“Gypsies,” Alice said beneath her breath.

“What was that?” Niles asked leaning closer to her.

“These are what the real Gypsies are like, Niles. This isn’t Hollywood or what others perceive them to be, these are the real thing.” She looked at Compton and smiled and he saw that she was loving every minute of what was happening. Alice was finally in her element. “These aren’t the Gypsies you find in Paris, London, or New York. No, these are the ones that stayed close to the mountains.”

Niles watched the motley group of Gypsies inside a truck as it went past.

“Are you saying that these people are—?”

“The Jeddah.”

Compton was about to respond when the driver of the Humvee gestured forward.

“We have a village here and it doesn’t look like the others below, this one seems a little crowded.”

As Niles and Alice strained to look out of the front windscreen, the multitude of men, women, and children could be seen crowding around the small village of Patinas. Many were lined in the roadway and many more in the trees surrounding the town. Many were playing and laughing as they waited, while others sat around and smoked pipes and cigars and discussed the year’s shearing and butchering that would be handled come fall. The women were gossiping about this and that and the children were watching the many entertainers winding their way through the crowd.

“I think this is about as far as we’re going to go, sir.”

Niles reached up and patted the driver on the back. “Okay, let’s go see what’s going on and ask if we can visit the higher reaches of the pass.”

As Alice stepped out of the vehicle she was amazed to see the friendly smiles and faces that greeted them. This was not at all like the closed society of Gypsy bands that roamed the Western world—these people were open and very much unsuspicious of others.

The men of the 82nd, along with Niles, Alice, Will Mendenhall, and Denise Gilliam, all watched jugglers and vendors, and then their eyes widened when a small brown bear with a collar around his neck and being led by a small Gypsy child with a gold shirt and black vest walked upright to many laughs from the children.

Denise had to smile when Mendenhall’s mouth came slightly agape at the sight. Even the engineers from the 82nd looked as if they were kids seeing a circus for the first time. One staff sergeant pulled on the sleeve of another and pointed to the two teenage girls dancing and swirling to the sound of a horn as they beat tambourines. The men were awestruck and Alice could do nothing but clap her hands together and smile. All the while Niles watched. It felt good to the director of Department 5656 to see her smile again. It had been a long haul since the senator’s death and she deserved this last Event call.

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