Relics Page 7

  “Yes. But if I show you what I know, you must promise to give credit to Ragnarok’s Chosen—our group.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” she said, to which Peter and Jonathan nodded. “Where is it?”

  “It’s hidden in the chapel above us.”

  “Great. And how do we get back there, especially with your other pals and their bats prepared to jump us?”

  “No. Now that Jeremy has left, they will wait until he comes back,” Francis advised. “You won’t have to worry until then.”

  “Well, how do we get back up there, then?” worried Jonathan, pointing to where they had been unceremoniously deposited in the sand. “We can’t go back the way we came, right?”

  Francis snickered softly. “There is another passage to take us back to the surface,” he said. “Follow me, and I will show you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Francis led the way back to a narrow passageway near the slide.

  He pressed against a shaded rock and a slight rumbling announced the rock wall was moving, opening up a stone staircase similar to the one that had taken the American trio to the hidden room of Ragnarok’s Chosen. Phoe followed Francis up the stairs, with Peter and Jonathan close behind her, and soon they re-emerged in the secret room with the laptop stations. But everything inside had been destroyed. A small fire burned in a crate filled with manuals, folders, and what looked like ancient leather-bound books, or journals.

  “No! All of our hard work! How could he do this?” Francis cried.

  Phoe helped Francis try to put out the fire, hoping that they might salvage something from it.

  “Who’s ‘he’?” asked Peter.

  “It must be Jeremy... He must have doubled back here somehow, or had his gang take care of it,” said Francis, despondently. “He has worked so hard on trying to find what you all say you seek. I thought he would be grateful for the help, but he must want the power of Mjölnir all for himself!”

  Phoe tossed the ashen remains from the crate aside. Whatever it had been, it was no longer useful. “You said there is stuff hidden upstairs... Let’s go—”

  “It will do no good,” he said, interrupting Phoe. “If he destroyed what is here, surely he has either destroyed or taken what was hidden upstairs.”

  Phoe pulled Peter aside. “I think we can use him. We should take him with us. Besides, it’s not like we have anything else we can take from here.”

  “Do you understand what you’re saying? Adding another member to this team may not be such a great idea, Phoe,” said Peter.

  “He speaks English and he has a great understanding of what we’re looking for and where we could find it, if it exists,” she countered, trying to keep her voice down since she was getting angry. “Plus, he may truly know what Riddick knows.”

  Peter shook his head. “Phoe. How will we be able to afford...”

  “Leave that to me, Peter,” she whispered.

  “You’re the boss,” he agreed, reluctantly.

  “Francis. I have a great idea,” said Phoe, sauntering over to where Francis stood, mourning over what was left of his customized computer. “Why don’t you come with us on our quest? That way you can have an even bigger say, and share, in the recovery of the Hammer of Thor.”

  Francis hesitated, though excitement danced in his eyes.

  “Come on, Francis! You could be a big help! Pleeeeease!” she persisted.

  Francis nodded thoughtfully, and a wide smile soon spread across his face. “Okay, I will do it. I will help you find Mjölnir.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Phoe, Peter, Jonathan, and now Francis prepared to climb into the rental.

  “So, Francis, you’re really into Thor, aren’t you?” asked Phoe.

  He looked at her suspiciously. “Yes, I am. I thought we made that clear.”

  “Oh, we did. I was just wondering why you are drawn to him.”

  He hesitated, then shrugged and said, “I think it would be the fact that he’s incredibly strong and righteous, even without his hammer.”

  Phoe’s demeanor changed, and she pushed Francis up against the car with her right arm jammed against his throat.

  Peter and Jonathan were shocked and tried to separate her from him. But she waved them off.

  “All right, asshole,” Phoe said. “You don’t really know much about Thor, do you?”

  Francis panicked. “What? Of course I do!”

  “First of all,” she sneered, “Thor received his awesome strength from the belt he wore. Second, he had rage problems and a tremendous ego. I believe you’re infatuated with the comic book version and not the mythological figure. Your geekiness is showing.”

  Francis began to sweat noticeably. “What do you want from me?”

  “Riddick didn’t teach you geeks anything about Thor, did he?” Phoe demanded.

  “Well, no, but—”

  “He wasn’t interested in Ragnarok’s Chosen to be part of his new Nazi army and I don’t believe he wanted to find Thor’s Hammer,” she continued.

  “I never said we were Nazis!” Francis protested.

  “He didn’t bother to teach you anything, because there was something that you had access to that he wanted. What is it, Francis? Think!”

  Francis began to hyperventilate. “Jeremy would never betray the Chosen!”

  “Just how stupid are you? A guy old enough to be your father comes up from out of the blue and tells you that he’s into your little gaming geek group?”

  “Please stop calling us that.”

  “Think about it, Francis. You have to have some common sense in that brain of yours.”

  Francis looked disappointed, perhaps realizing that Phoe was right. “Let me go. I’ll tell you what you want to know! I swear it!”

  She removed her arm from his throat.

  “Maybe there is something,” he confessed. “When Jeremy first contacted the Chosen, he was interested in our research into underground caverns and sacred meeting places of worshippers. We have found evidence that some underground statues erected to Thor may still exist. He was particularly interested in one legendary underground labyrinth rumored to be real among the Norse god believers.”

  “Everything you told him about it, you’re going to tell us. Now.”

  “What if you betray us the way he did?”

  “We’re on the opposing side of Riddick. I think we’ve established that fact already. But even if we did betray you, you’ve already given the information to someone who has. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.”

  “Fritzlar, Germany,” said Francis.

  Phoe urged him to go on.

  “Fritzlar, Germany, is where the Thor’s Oak tree is... or was. It was destroyed a long time ago, I think in the year 723. They call it Thor’s Oak because that was the type of oak tree that has been hit by lightning the most. That city is also the birthplace of the German Empire.”

  Phoe and Peter exchanged knowing looks.

  “Thank you, Francis,” she said, “but you won’t be needed to come with us after all.”

  “What? You just take my information and we get nothing in return?”

  Phoe took out her cell phone while staring at Francis. After motioning for him to remain silent, she dialed a number.

  “Why hello, Phoe. How goes the search?”

  “Abnormally well, Simon. We’re on our way to Fritzlar, Germany.”

  “I’ll bet you’ll appreciate the slightly warmer temperatures there.”

  “I didn’t call to talk about the weather. Since you’re going media blitz happy concerning the expedition, I need you to recognize Ragnarok’s Chosen located in Hammerfest, Norway. Without them, we wouldn’t be going to Fritzlar.”

  “Interesting. So, you want to share credit with this group?”

  “Francis Agnor will be sending all of the names in the Chosen, so I would like an honorable mention for them, please.”

  “Oh, I get it. Of course, Phoe. I will be expecting the email and will make
sure to give credit where credit is due. You, of course, will get more of the credit since you work directly for me.”

  “Of course... Thank you, Simon. Talk to you soon.”

  She closed the cell phone and took a piece of paper and a pen from her fanny pack. After writing down Simon’s email address and her own, she gave it to Francis.

  “Here is my client’s email address, as well as mine. Go ahead and send all of the names in your group so each of you will get credit for helping us.”

  Almost in tears, Francis eagerly took the paper from Phoe.

  “Thank you all. I will get to that right away. Are you really going to try to find the Hammer of Thor?”

  She smiled as she and Peter joined Jonathan in the car. “If you believe it exists, then you have to believe that I will find it.”

  “I don’t know if I believe it really exists... or not.”

  “That’s okay,” she replied, sliding the rest of the way into the front passenger seat. “We will send you an email when we do!”

  Chapter Twenty

  After completing the grueling drive back to Oslo the following day, and after boarding the jet, Peter kept looking over at Phoe. The look was one of admiration, which felt a little bit strange to her. She responded the only way she knew how.

  “What is it, Peter? Is my make-up running?” she teased.

  “No, Phoe. You look great... I just can’t believe how fast you think on your feet sometimes. I was extremely impressed on how you pegged Francis as a lying sack of shit.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Hopefully, you’ll still think that once we’re back on the hunt in Germany.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I will,” he said, opening his laptop, apparently ready to catch up on the latest sports news back in the States.

  As for her, she found the hum of the jet engines revving up especially soothing. We are on our way! She leaned back in her seat and debated on turning on her laptop or not. When she gave in to the urge, after the plane was back in the air, her casual internet search for Jeremy Riddick became more intense... and also more frustrating.

  “Help,” she mouthed to Jonathan, who reluctantly came over to her. “Have you tried any different spellings of Jeremy and Riddick?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Being that he is affiliated with Nazism, he probably won’t be using his real name, either in real life, or on the internet. You also want to look for known alliances... How about you use my computer?”

  She vacated her seat, and he huffed as he sat down, but started typing.

  “Why do you hate me? Is it because I screwed up with the Head of Olmec?”

  She cast him a perturbed look that was as playful as his words.

  “I don’t hate you, Jonathan. At least, not anymore.”

  “I know... but you were really upset about not getting the Head of Olmec.”

  “I’m upset with myself more so, Jonathan. I allowed myself to be put in that situation.”

  “You pushed me into the water when you knew I couldn’t swim.”

  “You had a life jacket on, for Christ’s sake! I knew you would float!” she laughed.

  “You’re evil,” he said impishly. “Here you go.”

  She looked at the screen over his shoulder. Jeremiah Ruddoc A.K.A. Jerome Riddick and Jeremy Reddick. Born: 1967 in Bismarck, North Dakota. Father: Arnie Riddick currently in prison for manslaughter/leader of Aryan Brotherhood sect in prison. Mother: Margaret killed by Arnie in crime of passion. No known next of kin.

  Phoe was shocked. “An American, huh? Is there any other information?”

  “That’s all the access I could get,” he said. “I hit a couple of walls that could be a problem. His name may be linked to some federal activity that I couldn’t get information about. This guy is big-time bad.”

  “How did you get Ruddoc?” Phoe asked. She would have never come up with that connection to Riddick.

  “That’s a spelling variation from the early 9th century. I guess he went way retro with his name. Everyone assumes that Jeremy is short for Jerome, but it’s really short for Jeremiah.”

  Jonathan was noticeably more comfortable talking to her as long as he was in his element. She would have to keep that in mind if she was going to get the very best out of him.

  ***

  Jonathan returned to his seat, feeling relieved that Phoe hadn’t lost her damned mind again.

  As soon as he had restored his laptop from sleep mode, he decided to visit the Kessler Industries website. A huge animated picture of Mjölnir dominated the upper third of the page, spinning around before flying off. He laughed to himself, realizing his control freak father had spared no expense to exploit the expedition. What is Dad hoping to accomplish?

  An entire section of the website had been devoted to the quest. Scanning page after page, he noticed, detailed the mythos of Thor, and even what some scientists believe Mjölnir was made of. When Jonathan reached the last page, he was surprised to see pictures and a biography of Phoe. His father had listed her name as ‘T. Phoenix.’ Her store, Simple Treasures, was mentioned as well. In fact, the site included several pictures of store items currently for sale, a picture of her assistant, Charlotte, along with the hours of operation and location in Taos, New Mexico and a small map with driving directions. Not sure how Phoe would react to seeing that, he decided not to mention what he’d found. He even clicked on the ‘x’ in the top right corner to remove it from his screen before she or Peter happened to notice it.

  He turned his search to Fritzlar, Germany, concentrating on places that might be of interest to someone like Jeremy Riddick. Places such as Nazi museums and the last-known location of the Thor Oak tree, which was removed in 723, according to Francis. After a half hour of searching the internet, Jonathan relaxed, leaned back in his seat and stretched his fingers. That’s when he noticed a search result for a pub he had passed several times in his initial search, because it didn’t seem important. He wasn’t sure why it caught his eye, but when it registered in his mind, he sat forward. What was a quick reference to an establishment called Die Bruderschaft, which translated into English meant ‘The Brotherhood.’ What better place to find members of the Aryan Brotherhood?

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Just before noon, the jet landed at Kassel-Calden Airport.

  Phoe, Peter, and Jonathan loaded up their gear. Greeted by a cold breeze, Phoe was pleased that a rental car was waiting for them, as had been the case in Frankfurt. She zipped up her coat to her neck while jogging to the Toyota Camry. A bit small for our needs, but what the hell, it’s free.

  She got behind the wheel and Peter took shotgun, not nearly as bothered by her taking control as he had in Oslo. Was something in his attitude changing or was it her? She was beginning to toy with the idea that the two of them made a pretty good team. While she was considering the new state between the two of them, Jonathan muttered something about feeling a little cramped in the back, but when neither she nor Peter respond, he let the matter die.

  “You must have this all mapped out, Phoe,” quipped Peter. “I’m glad to see the initiative... ready to assume the lead, finally?”

  That pretty much ended the thoughts she had just started to entertain about them making a pretty good team. She returned his jab with a condescending look. “Actually, I have no clue where to begin, but I figured if we just started hitting places, we would cover a lot of ground before midnight. We’ll still find what we need quicker than we would with you at the helm!”

  “Excuse me, Ms. Phoenix,” said Jonathan from the back seat. It sounded more like a squeak than an actual human voice coming from the back seat. He held up some pages he’d printed out on the plane.

  “Well, Jonathan, if you have an idea, I’d love to hear it. Please call me Phoe, by the way.”

  “Well, okay, Phoe.” She could see his shy smile through the rearview mirror, sending a pang of guilt into her heart. Gotta work on the charm, Phoe baby.

  “I was doing some research w
hile you and Mr. Kellerman rested. I believe the best place to start is a bar called Die Bruderschaft. The English translation means ‘The Brotherhood.’ From what I gathered, mostly from local police reports, it’s the perfect place for someone like Jeremy to go.”

  Phoe smiled slyly at Peter. “The Brotherhood, it is.”

  Peter asked to see the papers and Jonathan handed them to him.

  “I printed out the map, nearby landmarks, and I think everything else we need.”

  “Thank you, Jonathan. See, Peter, he’s not useless.”

  Peter looked shocked at her comment, and his face turned beet red as Jonathan leaned forward.

  “Do you think I’m useless, Mr. Kellerman?”

  Peter glared at her, shocked that he had just been thrown under the bus. Her naughty grin was intended to remind him that she had yet to forgive him for taking the Head of Olmec.

  “All right, Phoe, let’s get this out in the open... Turn right at the next stop sign, then go straight for about two miles... Okay, I got the Head of Olmec fair and square, and I’m really quite tired of hearing about it all the time. I’m sorry, but it is what it is! Tell me why you can’t let it go!”

  She ignored him until she turned right at the stop sign. “I don’t remember bringing it up, but since you have chosen to, then, yes, Peter, let’s get this out in the open. That was the first artifact I actually had a chance of getting.”

  “What about the copies of all of the artifacts that you sell? Didn’t you obtain them from the original artifacts?”

  “Of course I did. Otherwise, they wouldn’t look as authentic as they do. The Head of Olmec was... was going to be the first artifact that I would ever have been able to call mine.”

  “I thought you were getting it for Kessler.”

  “I was, but it was still mine. My lead, my initiative, my fortitude, my brain power, my footwork; all of which you copied and took advantage of all the way up to snatching it right out from under my nose.”

  An uncomfortable silence fell upon the car. Her speed was matching her frustration. She noticed that she was well over the speed limit, but she didn’t care.