Plague of Coins (The Judas Chronicles #1) (26 page)

Viktor Kaslow??! No frigging way!!

It looked like this person had blonde hair and blue eyes, too...yet I watched Viktor’s spirit leave his body. However, I recalled how the glowing crystal shard that pierced his heart was still glowing when I found him as he lay dying.

It did make sense, although it also made no sense.

“See what I told you, Sam?” said Cedric, smiling wryly. “I believe William thinks it’s the same guy I do.”

“What guy?” Alistair looked over at me suspiciously, as if I just gave Cedric some subtle clue to confirm his implied theory. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Well, before we make a rash rush to judgment, let me show you the satellite images that Michael sent to me a few hours ago,” said Cedric, without looking up from his laptop. “Watch the images as they get magnified.”

I’ll admit, the images picked up literally hundreds and even thousands of miles away fascinate me to no end, whether it is the Hubble Space Telescope or the satellite lenses aimed at a Taliban hideout. And in this case, the view worked its way down from Asia Minor to Iran, to the Caspian Sea area, and down into the Alborz Mountains.

Before long, the mountain near Zoran’s village with the ancient gate carved in its side appeared. For a moment, the view ceased to move....but then it began to magnify the gate.

Suddenly, the area next to the gate began to disintegrate, and an enormous hole opened up in the mountain. The magnification continued to pull us closer as glistening gem veins in the exposed mountainside appeared. Then the nose belonging to one of the FGR devices peered out through the wound.

I believe all of us who had just visited the cavern were stunned, even if nothing else happened. Obviously, someone survived. One of the Russian miscreants hadn’t died after all.

“Okay, now watch this last part, and tell me what you see,” said Cedric.

At first, the figure remained vague. But as the images became increasingly clearer, one could readily discern the preferred clothing and boots of one particular Soviet. Then, we were able to see the hair, skin color, and familiar stride the individual walked with. Even from where we stood at that moment, it was easy to perceive the man’s anger, irritation, and malice.

I didn’t need to see any more of this shit to determine that Viktor Kaslow had miraculously come back to life. I’d be a monkey’s uncle for sure if I didn’t know it by now. Yet, Viktor merely being alive still wasn’t the issue. There are plenty of creeps like Petr Stanislav in the world. However, there are remarkably few human beings who consistently demonstrate a propensity for ill will to
all
mankind. And such a man is this one.

This was very bad news.

Something exceedingly evil and unlikeable had suddenly become un-
killable
.

Welcome to immortality, Viktor Kaslow.

Chapter 22

Compared to the revelation that Viktor Kaslow had just joined a unique society that only numbers a few hundred souls—at least by my count these past few centuries—the rest of the plane trip home was largely uneventful.

The jet didn’t come with the incredible amenities featured on the Emirates aircraft we were fortunate to have for the flight to Tehran, but it did have a full bath and shower. After getting cleaned up, Amy and Alistair desired sleep and lots of it. Especially on the trip from Amsterdam to D.C., where they both slept nearly the entire time.

Yes, there were still moments of camaraderie. When awake, Alistair and Amy’s budding friendship looked to be a lasting thing. And even Jeremy and I shared several ‘quiet’ discussions about angels and what I knew previously about immortality. I told him that he could call me ‘Judas’ anytime, so long as it was done half-jokingly to where my colleagues at the CIA remained unaware of my true identity.

Sam and Cedric avoided extended interactions with any of us after getting meager answers to their earlier questions. They seemed content from that point on to wait on Michael’s assistance—which would come in my debriefing in a couple of days. Of course, Cedric had his female distractions, which grew somewhat annoying to me, and thoroughly irritating to Sam. Cedric’s philandering wasn’t as noticeable on the trip to Tehran. A combination of a more spacious aircraft and shorter flight contributed to that, I’m sure. But, I think if he had offered to share one of the girls with Sammy, there might’ve been less friction between them.

After we made it home to Washington, and prepared to gather our luggage in the Dulles baggage claim, Amy approached me. Sam and Cedric had already advised us on the necessary security measures we all needed to adhere to, and then they left to meet with Michael.

“I just want to tell you that I really am glad I met you, and I hope you’ll forgive me for not always being so brave when we were in trouble,” said Amy. “Someday, I hope to be more like you.”

No you don’t little sister—not ever.

“You are
very
brave,” I told her. “You were the bravest one back there—always, and do you know why? It’s because you faced your fears and moved past them for yours and the greater good of us all. You showed more courage than I ever have.”

Unlike my puckish tendencies, this time, I made sure my smile was warm. It should’ve come across as genuine, because I honestly meant what I said to her.

“But, you’re the bravest man—other than my brother—that I’ve ever known!” she insisted. “You’re—”

“Immortal,” I interrupted her. “I will always survive and heal, so pain for me is a temporary thing. My perspective is one that’s so different from yours. You risked life and limb without any assurance things would work out. It’s the very definition of being brave in my book.”

She blushed and didn’t know how to respond. Luckily, she didn’t flinch when I approached her, allowing me to give her a warm hug.

“I thank you for what you’ve done for Alistair,” I said, as I stepped back from her. Jeremy and my son were on their way over to us, their luggage in hand. “Like you, he’s a brave one, and a better man than his father. I hope you two stay in touch.”

I started to choke up, but it went unnoticed. I’ve become extraordinarily adept at hiding what I feel when I deem it necessary to do so.

“Oh, we’ve already become fast friends!” she beamed, and looked over at my boy and gave him a smile that only the closest of friends and lovers ever see. “In fact, we have a dinner date for next weekend!”

“Luigis—best pizza in the D.C. area!” said Alistair.

“Sounds like fun!” I then reached out to shake hands with Jeremy. He gripped my hand and held it for a moment. “I’ve enjoyed our talks, Jeremy!”

“Me too...Judas!”

Ah, such impishness that so reminds me of...
me!

For the time being, we parted ways—Amy and Jeremy hailing a taxi to take them to their parents’ estate in Arlington, and me and Alistair picking up his Honda from long-term parking.

On the way to dropping me off at my townhouse, Alistair and I talked briefly about our trip...the good times and our near death experiences. We always hold a little celebration when we collect a coin, and decided to do that around 2:00 p.m. the next afternoon, Saturday. It was already going on eight o’clock that Friday night, and even I felt a bit tired. I could only imagine how exhausted Alistair felt, though he did sleep quite a bit on the way home. But jet lag always takes its toll with him—especially whenever we return home from a foreign land. Even so, he refused my offer to drive him home first and return his automobile in the morning.

You might think I reside in a palace fit for a king. I have done that—lived the life of extravagance before. But as I get older—or, rather, as I take on more years of experience on the great planet earth, I find I need less and less in terms of material comforts.

So where I live right now isn’t far from both the Smithsonian Institute and Alistair. I love the convenience, and I love even more the fact I’m generally left alone. It’s not a crime-infested area, but it is a place that allows me to come and go almost unnoticed. That comes in handy for numerous reasons, not the least is the fact I don’t have to worry about my neighbors noticing that I never age. I could live here for thirty to forty years if the secret about my real identity holds up.

My only niggle about any residence is when my CIA cohorts show up. I would hate to be recognized by any of the international enemies I’ve made in the past twenty years. Yes, they follow us just like we follow them, so this is not an idle concern.

After letting myself into my home, I took a moment to feed my pet cactus that I call Fred, before settling in for the night. With the lights on low, and my Mozart collection reverberating softly throughout the main level, I stared out my living room window toward the D.C. skyline. I held the latest coin again, allowing the now faint memories of what happened so long ago torture me for a while. Fine Scotch on the rocks takes a little off the edge. But until I grew weary enough to sleep a few hours, I continued to twirl the shekel. I admired equally the exquisite honker on Caesar’s face and the proud eagle that the country I have since adopted embraces as the ultimate symbol of freedom...and of peace.

***

“You’re early Pops!”

Alistair almost sounded perturbed, but a playful glint danced in his eyes as he opened his door to me. He really does seem younger, and I happened to notice that the ligature marks around his neck had totally disappeared. In less than two days, no less! Pleasantly surprised that the Tree of Life’s power had extended longer than I believed possible, I told him that he looked fantastic.

“Well, I do feel a helluva lot better than I have in years,” he said, smiling slyly after first eyeing me suspiciously. I guess years of playful zingers have made it hard to tell a dig from a sincere compliment from me. “Come on in and make yourself at home in the living room!”

He sounded happy, and I noticed a spring in his step. Could this mean more than a dip in the stream that was enhanced by the Tree of Life? Could it be deep fondness for a certain female? Far too early to broach the subject, I didn’t want to jinx what is meant to be or not meant to be by bringing it up.

“I’ve got your Dewar’s ready for you, so all you’ll need is a glass and some ice, right?”

Alistair followed me into the living room as he said this. Everything was set up for our little ceremony, including the long mahogany case that lay open on the coffee table. Twenty-one silver coins were on display, with nine open slots left to be filled. We used to keep the case’s contents in one of the city’s leading industrial banks’ safety deposit boxes. But once the number of silver coins climbed past fifteen, Alistair wisely suggested we keep the coins somewhere less conspicuous. So, I purchased a heavy duty safe to keep them secure and then had a small alcove added to the waiting area outside Alistair’s master bedroom, where the safe sits bolted to the floor.

Not that I worry too much about anyone stealing our cursed coins. A fate far worse than what befell Ivan Sutter from Missoula Montana could well await anyone foolish enough to try.

“I see you’ve also brought out your blue label Jack Daniels,” I said, alluding to the sealed bottle next to my preferred Dewar’s. “Would you like for me to pour you a glass of it and bring it on over to you?”

“That would be great, Pops, and remember I take it straight up!”

“Will do, son!”

After I poured our drinks, I brought them over to the table. I handed to Alistair his Jack Daniels, and then pulled out the latest coin from my pocket.

“Would you like to do the honors this time, or should I?” I said.

“You set the coin in its space, and then I’ll offer the eulogy for it, since there’s now one less to go!” He chuckled warmly. This was indeed a more joyous occasion than our most recent celebrations.

“Sounds like the best plan.” I chuckled as well while placing my coin in the slot marked ‘Twenty-two’. “Now let’s hear what sweet words you have to say this time, Ali.”

“Ah-hem...,” he began, clearing his throat. “Here lies silver shekel number twenty-two, left in a decrepit grave hidden from view. Now there are just eight coins left for redemption. I pray for a kinder fate, to find them quickly, and hasten for your soul heaven’s exemption.”

“Not bad, son...not bad at all.” I was impressed with what he made up on the fly and the sincere tenderness of his delivery. “We’re getting closer to the end of this crazy journey.”