Chapter Twelve
Reading The Cards
Fortune telling: an attempt to gain insight about the past, present and/or future using a deck of (usually) Tarot cards.
*
Klaus spent the majority of the time crossing the Atlantic going through the information John Paul and Agent K--assisted by several others--were able to pull out of James' numerous databases. It seemed that James had been doing his own research into Project: Eroica, and had accumulated some interesting data, including further information on Dr. Andy in a file that was named Luftschutzbunker, of all things. Bomb Shelter? This was so incongruous that it leapt out at the men searching the database, the German speakers especially. Was James trying to be clever? The incongruity vanished when the file was opened. Not only did Dr. Andy live in a rather impressive neighborhood in Arlington, Virginia, but he also owned a home that boasted a bomb shelter in the backyard.
Yet another relic of the Cold War.
Bonham suggested that this might be where the records of Project: Eroica were stored, if any still existed. The more they uncovered, the more certain he was that there was no way the records would be in the CIA archives. A bomb shelter would be a perfect place to store them. Especially with proper modifications. The Major agreed with his logic and gave orders that this newest piece of information be forwarded to M's group in Virginia the moment they checked in.
Along with the databases were boxes of documents that Klaus tried to wade through while the others worked on pulling up more information. After retiring for the night, he sat in his cabin reading a notebook--one of several that were discovered amongst the various boxes of papers. They seemed to be journals that Eroica had started after his unsettling encounter with a statue in Cologne in 1987. It had caused the Earl all kinds of anxieties, and Klaus had taken a rather sadistic joy in taunting him over it at the time.
The journals only drove home how deeply John Marshall had gotten into his cover. After a decade, he was no longer playing a role. No longer thought of himself as John Marshall. He had become Dorian, the Earl of Gloria. He had become Eroica. He had to do this in order to survive undetected as well as retain his sanity. What was it about the statue that had shattered this? After the mission in Vienna in 1987, Eroica seemed to have fallen off the face of the Earth, his interference in NATO missions coming full stop. Klaus hadn't thought anything about it at the time. It wasn't unusual for the Earl to disappear for several months at a time only to resurface as if no time had passed. Not so this time.
It had all been a blur then, beginning with the start of the thaw in the Cold War in 1985. Then came the fall of the Berlin Wall in November of 1989 and things just snowballed from there; the reunification of Germany, the collapse of the Soviet Union, the war in the Gulf, the break-up of Yugoslavia and NATO's involvement in the mess that followed...
The next thing Klaus knew, eight years had passed and he was face-to-face with Eroica in the unlikely location of Moscow. The Earl acted as though only a few months had passed since they last saw one another, asking inane questions and seeming to go out of his way to annoy the Major, just as he had always done. It was only now--seven years later--that it occurred to Klaus to wonder what the man had been doing all that time.
As if I don't have enough questions that need answering, Klaus thought as he sat back and rubbed his eyes. What was the original purpose of the Project: Eroica? Why go to all the trouble to create a gay art thief as a mole for the intelligence network? Was it possible Eroica was stealing more than just information? More importantly, after twenty-five years, why end it so abruptly? The events of September 11 might be the answer to this last question. Bad enough to have a Black Ops that was a throwback to the Cold War, worst to have one that was supposed to have been halted after a scandal like Watergate. In the current political climate, this revelation would cause an equally horrific scandal, which was not what the United States needed at the present time. Not with another war in the Middle East looming closer and closer.
* * *
Eroica found the cover story he had been given rather amusing. Visitors were confined to family members only, so Eroica learned that he now had a wife in the person of G and a brother-in-law in the person of Z.
"How on Earth did they decide on you?" the amused Earl asked once the whole story had been laid out. "Did you draw the short straw?"
Z gave him a dark look. "Your doctor said it should be someone you would recognize and--" He broke off, having to force out, "And trust."
Eroica's eyebrows went up. He was prevented from responding when the physician in question came through the door. The concerned look changed into a bright smile when he saw his patient awake and alert. "Allah has smiled upon you again, my dearest Lord Gloria," he grinned, bowing his head slightly and waving a hand before his face.
"Does this mean I'm no longer contagious?" Eroica inquired seriously, throwing a quick glance over to Z.
"Yes, yes. And if you continue to do well, and behave yourself, you should be out of here in a few days."
The Earl gave him a tired smile and held out his arms. "Then come here and give us a hug. Better yet, mara bebus!"
To the amazement of the watching Z, Dr. Al Rabeeah crossed to the bed and hugged the Earl warmly, going on to exchange pecks on the cheek. Shit, is this for real?
When the grinning Dr. Al Rabeeah stood back from the bed, he saw the stunned look on Z's face and laughed. "We seem to have shocked your pseudo brother-in-law."
"I haven't been well enough to tell them about you, my dearest Harlun," Eroica sighed apologetically.
"I think your Major recognized me, although he tried to pretend he was just one of your men."
"The Major?" Z gasped. He was beginning to wonder if anything connected with the Earl was real.
Harlun nodded, saying to the Earl, "He's just as stern as I remember." He laughed as he recalled the Major's reaction all those years ago when he had asked for a kiss.
By this time Z's head was spinning. How was it possible for this man to know the Major without the officer recalling it? The Major remember everything. Then Z learned why.
Harlun laughed again at the bewildered expression on the agent's face. "Lord Gloria saved my life," he stated flatly, going on to explain that he had been a boy when he first met the Earl and later the Major during a mission in Iran. Z had not been on the mission because of his inability to speak Persian--something he had since corrected. Afterward, the Earl could not get the boy out of his mind and returned for him, going on to send him to the finest schools in Europe. As it turned out, the boy Harlun aspired to be a doctor and eventually chose to practice in Indonesia.
"Officially, I am the house physician for a large hotel," he said. "But that's not especially demanding, even in high season. So to fill my time, I help run a free clinic funded by Lord Gloria."
Z's mouth dropped open. He looked at the Earl as though seeing him for the first time. Perhaps he was, considering all the layers to the man's personality that he had kept hidden for decades. "Is that your way of paying him back?"
"The only payment I ever ask of Harlun is a hug and mara bebus." Eroica gave the physician an affectionate look. "Give us thy kiss."
* * *
Klaus tried to shake the cobwebs from his head. After listening to the recordings of the Earl's delirious ramblings for a third time, he had stared into space for nearly half an hour. There was nothing he could do about the man now that he was in a hospital. If he changed his mind and gave the Alphabet away, they would be able to quickly change location. The Earl's jet had been repaired and relocated to Bali, making evacuation a fairly simple operation, especially since they were ready to do so at a moment's notice.
Drawing a deep breath, he returned his attention to the journal and the Earl's precise and, thankfully, legible handwriting.
~
20 February, 1988
The sleep clinic was no damn help at all. Apparently, I don't have a sleep disorder. I have "a mild psychosis brought on by a sudden traumatic event." MILD! A bleeding statue comes to life and they call it mild? I'm going mad and the only thing the "professionals" can do is slap labels on me.
~
29 February, 1988
I've been trying to find Dorian's journals. I'm sure he told me that he kept them when he lived here, but no one seems to know what happened to them. The doctors keep asking me if I had nightmares as a child, but I'll be damned if I can remember. They want me to ask my mother. Yeah, THAT will go over well. Which mother? The real Earl's or the one who thinks her son died in ‘75?
~
18 June, 1988
My men are getting worried. Me with them. I can't function anymore. I've had them pull the last three jobs without me. It's gotten to the point where I'm afraid to be in the dark even a few minutes. I feel like I'm a five year old afraid of ghosts in the closet. I've had to have all the statues removed to the island because they scare me so much.
The doctors are no bloody help at all. James said that I should contact the Company about this. He's afraid it may be a breakdown in that experimental technique they used to prep me for deep cover.
What the hell did I let them do to my head?
~
25 July, 1988
This is it. The day I've been looking forward to and dreading. The flight to the States leaves in a few hours and I'm all butterflies. I don't think I was this nervous when I pulled my first heist. Now isn't that weird? According to James, Tomlinson agreed with him about my breakdown. I'm not sure how he came to that conclusion. I'm sleeping with the lights on, for Christ's sake! I don't think I even slept with a nightlight as a child, not that I can actually remember it. God, I can't seem to remember squat before starting this mission. Everything is such a jumble. I don't know if it's real, imagined, or just part of the bios that were drilled into my head.
If this doesn't work, I have a feeling they're going to have to scrap the project. What good is a thief who can't steal?
~
1 August, 1988
It's been a week, and guess what? I don't have a sleep disorder. I told them that before they wasted my time, but apparently British sleep clinics aren't to be trusted. Whatever. Tomlinson wants me to meet with Dr. Schrekk Scrheckin (I can't spell the bugger's name.) Dr. Andy. He's the one who helped with my intensive training back in the 70s after the Earl made all those recordings for me.
Gosh, that seems so long ago now that I think about it.
~
8 August, 1988
Weeks two and I'm still rehashing my story. I did find out that all the records from the project are archived at Dr. Andy's house! He's got a ruddy BOMB SHELTER in the backyard! I couldn't believe it when I saw it. It's lined with shelves and has boxes and boxes full of all kinds of things down there. He needs a better security system though. My lot could crack it ---
Listen to me. I'm Eroica again. Anyway, the doc showed me one of the videotapes I did all those years ago. I can't believe how different I look. Oh, the wonders of plastic surgery!
~
10 August, 1988
The doc is trying to see if this lovely psychosis of mine is a "simple" breakdown in my training. Simple, he says. I'm no expert, but I would swear the man is just as scared of the statues as I am the way he acts when I talk about them. The Major would call him a fucking idiot. --- Shit. Where did that come from? I haven't thought of that sadist in months. I'm sure he'd love knowing I'm having a complete mental breakdown. He'd probably take credit for it after locking me in that room in the dark with all the bloody statues.
~
12 August, 1988
I was wrong about Dr. Andy being an idiot. He's a fucking rabbit! I thought I was bad, jumping at shadows, seeing ghosts under the bed. But he's even worse! And he's making ME even more jumpy. Bloody hell, the pair of us will end up in a rubber room yet. I wonder if the Major will visit me? Maybe then I can tell him the truth.
~
Klaus sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed in the distance. He had originally planned on putting off reading the Earl's journals. Now he was glad he had not. They were puzzling as well as a gold mine of information. In fact, he hadn't even noticed the inconsistency until he got to the entry of August 10. After the mention of the Major himself, the rest of the entry was written in German, as was the next entry. He paged back finding this oddity started with the entry of June 18. What the hell was that all about?
Klaus stored this peculiarity with the other bits in the back of his mind. Just now, he needed to concentrate one key piece of information, this being the physical location of the project archive. And it was right there in black and white. Would the Eroica gang really be able to steal it without being detected? Klaus gave a snort as the question crossed his mind. This group could steal someone's back teeth without them knowing about it. And if the security system were the same as in 1988, it would be child's play to Eroica's men.
He went to the bridge, finding Bonham chatting with John Paul. Both men looked up expectantly when the officer entered. It seemed to be a routine now. Every time Klaus came across something pertinent, he would have it relayed to America or Bali. This time, he requested that Craig come to the bridge.
"I know where the archive is," Klaus announced to everyone's amazement.
Bonham gave a startled noise. "Where?"
"Just as you thought, Dr. Schreckengost's bomb shelter." Klaus held up the journal. "Agent Marshall learned its location and was good enough to write it down." A small smile curled the edges of his mouth. "He was also good enough to record a few other things." He turned to Craig. "And that's where you come in."
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