No Barnes About It
October 24, 1938- Heimlich VonVIctor felt a chill run down his spine. Autumn always had that effect on him. He looked up at the multitude of colors adorning the trees and placed his hands in his coat pockets. The pungent aroma in the air told him that, somewhere, leaves were being burnt. He took a deep breath and looked down, to the place he had visited as many times as he could in the past two years. The cold hard stone hadn’t changed a bit, and never would. It would always be a testament to the man resting under it.
FEBRUARY 10, 1892-
JUNE 15, 1936
“Justice for all. Above all else.”
He took a deep sigh. He never left anything behind, nor did he suspect that Richard would want anything left for him. He leaned down and placed his hand on the stone, “I’m doing alright Richard. Eric and I started up another agency. We’re doing it right this time, and Sergei is getting better at English every day. He’s even solving cases now; you wouldn’t believe how well he’s doing.”
“Excuse me, detective VonVictor?” a voice called behind him
Heim whirled around to find himself face to face with a young uniformed officer, “What do you want?” he demanded, “Can’t you see I’m in a cemetery?”
“Yes sir,” he responded, “and I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, but I’ve been asked to fetch you right away, it’s a matter of life and death!”
Heimlich let out a sigh, and leaned down to touch the stone again, “It never ends Richard, it never ends. I have to go now, but I’ll be back real soon.”
Marc watched in amazement as Molly was led down the hall. Moments later she disappeared and he could still hear Davis yelling. Marc knew it was his turn to act and he backed up slowly into the shadows and crept down the hallway in the darkness.
As he backed disappeared into the dark, he heard Vulkie ask, "Where the hell is Marc?!"
"Don't worry," Joseph said, "Marc knows what he is doing. He'll meet up with us soon enough."
"How can you be so sure?" Vulkie asked again.
"Trust me," Zeo said, "Marc....has his ways of doing things."
Marc followed followed the trail of Davis and Molly and he watched them disappear into a room. Quietly, he pulled out his revolver. He never knew when he was going to need it.
Through that door, there was something and he wasn't sure what. The rest of the gang had gone a different way in search of the girls.
Marc stepped out of the shadows for only a brief second to cross the hallway. He picked up his foot to kick open the door, and he hesitated.
"What if the children are in there?" Marc thought? "What if the moment that door flew off the hinges, guns started firing, and the children were killed?" He thought. If that happened, he would carry the burden of the death of two girls on his shoulders for the rest of his life. He couldn't do that. He had a soft spot for young kids.
He had to rethink his plan. He was about to go around the room when something caught his eye. He looked up and just above his head, was a vent shaft. Big enough for him to fit in. He pulled out his pocket knife, and unscrewed the vent.
He climbed up until he was able to crawl strait through the room. When he came to an opening, he looked in and saw Molly being interrogated by Davis. If the children were in there, he couldn't hear them. But then again, they would most likely be tied up with their mouths taped shut.
Either way, if Marc saved Molly, and he found the kids before the rest of the gang, he'd do all he can to get them back safe and alive.
"You know, you really are quite surly for someone I've done a favor for." Molly said, crossing her knees. Davis had tied her hands behind her back, and she sat in a low chair. "I figured you'd at least be nice about all this."
"Shut it!" Davis roared, and kicked the bottom of her chair. It caused her to jerk, and she winced at the painful motion. She squinted her eyes at Davis.
"You know, you look quite familiar. You didn't come to my apartment and work me over, did you?" she inquired. "You hit like a girl."
He slapped her across the face and after a moment of furious blinking, she sighed. "Yep, it was you."
He hissed something and then froze, thinking. Suddenly he smiled. "You're coming with me!"
He grabbed at the knot securing her wrists, and she yelped. "I do not bend that way!"
He pulled out a knife and held it to her throat, looking around frantically. Molly realized he thought he was being watched.
Quickly and silently they hustled along, Molly struggling against his tight grip. He had a car waiting outside, and he shoved her inside.
"You and I, we're for Iraq, girlie." he sneered, and Molly inched up the car door, pulling herself into a seated position. Her mind raced.
If I could just get there before anything terrible goes down, she thought, I may be able to stall...whatever happens to them, or maybe protect them in some way!
Grimly she stared out the window, as close to praying as she ever was.
Marc was crouched in the air vents watching as Molly was led out of the room. When the door close, he opened the vent and jumped down to the ground. He felt a bit of pain jolt through his feet. After all, he was still wearing dress shoes with is suit. Shoes like that aren't made to jumped in. Marc stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes. Quietly, he opened the door, and stepped out.
He could here them walking and so he followed the sound of the footsteps. As he rounded a corner, he saw them making their way to an exit. Marc stepped inside the shadows once again being able to be unseen. As he watched Molly, get shoved inside a car, he heard Davis say something about going to Iraq.
Iraq? But why? It didn't matter. The car started to drive away. Marc paused but only for a second. There was no time to tell the others. He watched the next car approach. He swung the door open and pulled the driver out.
"I need your car," Marc said as the driver fell to the ground. The man started screaming incoherent words at Marc, but Marc ignored him as he drove off following Davis.
He followed them to the docks. Marc stuck to the crowed of people boarding the ship. He watched in shock as Molly was dragged out of the car and drug up on to the ship.
He had to act quickly. He ran up the loading dock and made his way onto the ship.
The others! Marc forgot once again. The ship was about to leave! He pushed the thoughts away. If they found the kid's, then great. Marc needed to get Molly back. He wasn't about to let something bad happen to a friend.
He saw, Molly again but only for a second as she was being herded Davis. Marc followed them down a hallway. He made sure no one was around when he drew his pistol. He slowly approached Davis from behind with his gun drew. Molly looked up and saw him and Marc quickly put his index finger to his mouth signaling her to stay quiet.
Slowly, Marc leveled the gun to Davis' head and pulled the hammer back. (Cont..)
Davis froze in front of his door and stopped fumbling with the key to unlock it. There was a silence between the three of them for a moment.
Marc felt the tug of the ship as it began to leave the dock. There was no turning back now. Marc, along with Molly, was on his way to Iraq. "Slowly, I want you to open your door."
Davis reached for the knob and turned it. As the door began to open, Marc kicked Davis in the back. Davis flew through the door and landed face first on the ground. He turned back around ready to get up and fight. Marc stepped over Davis and punched him in the face, knocking him unconscious. A fist was the last thing Davis saw before the lights went out.
Marc turned around and picked Molly up and helped her to her feet.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Molly winced. "Yeah, more or less. Would you like, tie him up or something?"
She limped into the bathroom and unwound the bandages around her hand, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she looked at her busted digits, now practically blackened with bruising.
"That's attractive." She didn't even bother looking at the mass of bruises and broken bones under her clothing. It would just depress her.
"Alright, we need to figure out a game plan. I'd suggest a telegram to our friends but I haven't the faintest idea where they are now." Molly said, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed.
"It's blood" Albert said. "The word Iraq is shown and a sun... Any idea Henry?" Albert asked, looking at Heimlich...
Vulkie looked at Heimlich. Heimlich was thinking, hard. "Iraq... Sun... what does that all mean...." Heimlich said loud and everyone wondered. "Where's Molly?" Joseph asked and Anais asked : "Where's Marc?"
As everyone looked around, they couldn't find Molly and Marc. "Where's Davis? He's gone!" Anais said, pointing to where Davis was laying a few minutes ago.
As the detectives made their way out of the building, they saw Marc pulling a man out of a car, saying : "I need your car" and immediately drove off.
"Where's he heading?" Anais wondered loud, but Vulkie pointed to her own car. "Come on all. We'll follow him!" Vulkie shouted and Heimlich, Joseph, Anais, Albert and Riza stepped in Vulkie's car and Vulkie behind the steering wheel.
Vulkie started the car and immediately drove off, speeding her way towards Marc. "What's he up to, he's running through red lights!" Joseph shouted and Vulkie grinned. "What he can do, I can do also!" Vulkie said and drove through the red light, crossing the cross-over point. Cars immediately braked and slipped, as Vulkie made her way through.
"He's heading for a boat!" Riza shouted and Vulkie looked, as she stopped the car. "Quickly, the boat is leaving!" Anais yelled and everyone ran towards the boat.
"We're not going to make it" Heimlich said, breathing heavily and clamping himself on a pole.
"Not if you're sticking to this pole, we ain't" Albert said and pulled Heimlich with him.
Just then, the boat left. "Great, we just missed them!" Vulkie shouted angrily. "Henry, the clue... Think, Henry, think!!!" Albert said, pressuring Heimlich. And just then, Heimlich smiled. "I know the solution" Heimlich said and everyone waited for a reply...
Mesopotamian in origin, and crafted in the cradle of civilization, that had to be it! Heimlich opened his mouth to speak, but caught himself. If he said those words, it meant that his fate was sealed, but if he didn't, Valerie and Josèe would die.
"The Temple of the Sun," he said finally, "in Iraq. It's where the Eyes were supposedly crafted. It must be the only place that their power works. If you get on a boat now, you may still be able to catch them."
"You may?" Anais asked, "What do you mean you may? We're in this together Heimlich."
"No," Heimlich replied, "this is none of me. It's never been any of me, and I can't have any part in it."
Joseph grabbed Heimlich by the collar. "You coward! You yellow, selfish, coward!" he shouted, "These are children we're talking about here!"
"Get off me!" Heimlich shouted as he shoved Joseph back, "You have no idea! You haven't been a father to Josèe for most of her life anyway. Face it Joseph, you're an opportunist with no redeeming graces!"
Joseph dropped his hands and stood with his mouth agape in shock. Heimlich began to storm off, but felt an arm grab him by the shoulder. He was spun around by an angry looking Anais.
"That was uncalled for Heimlich!" she said angrily, "What is your problem? You know he hasn't been given a chance, and he's the best friend you've ever had!"
"Anais," Heimlich said urgently, "I can't be near any of you anymore. I need to go away. A curse follows me, and it will kill everyone I love if I don't go somewhere else."
"You're not cursed Heimlich!" Anais said, "Even if you were, you're not alone! Maybe years ago this lone wolf stunt would have worked, but it's not going to work today. Not since you became Uncle Heimie. Not since you opened yourself up. You don't do it alone anymore."
He throught back to Thomas' words. "You poison all that come close to you. Those closest to you will come to peril at your hand." Maybe this was what he meant.
Perhaps he was destined to drive those closest to him away. He nodded. He would do everything he could to prevent that. If his destiny was to die saving children, then so be it. He returned to the group and saw them casting daggers his way.
"Joseph I'm sorry," he said, "I lost my temper. I thought I was alone, but the truth is that none of us are."
Joseph nodded, but did not speak or give any sign of forgiveness.
"We need a boat," Heimlich continued, "preferably something fast. If we can't catch the boat, then we need to get across the Atlantic as soon as possible. Joseph I know you can get one through the FBI. Anyone else have any better ideas?"
Riza stood by and watched the scene unfold before her. She shook her head as she watched Heimlich walk away, as she remembered.…
She shook her head. “Ok guys, we need to get to Iraq right now.” A sidelong look at Joseph told her they wouldn’t be expecting any favors from him anytime soon. “Come with me,” she commanded, and led the group down the street.
Fifteen minutes later they arrived in front of a large, decrepit looking warehouse. “You guys wait here.”
Riza walked over to the door on the side and gave it three sharp kicks with her stilettos. “It’s me! I need a favor!”
Three seconds later a small eye slit in the door slid aside, revealing a pair of grey menacing eyes. A few murmurs were exchanged. Riza beckoned the others over. Anais ran over immediately, followed by Heimlich, Vulkie, and Albert. Joseph lagged behind the group, staring at the back of Heim’s head.
The door opened. They entered into the darkness. “I can’t see anyth--” Anais started. A soft click sounded as a single lightbulb was turned on. A collective gasp erupted from the group.
“This,” Riza gestured while smirking, “Is our ride to Iraq.” A small plane stood in the middle of the warehouse, looking just big enough to fit eight people. Its silvery coating shone in the dim light.
“Alright, everybody get in!” the grizzled pilot shouted over the roar of the plane’s engine. “Come on, don’t keep me waiting!”
Joseph looked around. “This is just an empty plot of ground! How are we supposed to take off from here? It’s dangerous!” he protested.
“It’s this or nothing,” Heim said resignedly. “We need to get the Temple of the Sun as soon as possible if we’re going to save the girls.” His face looked gaunt.
Everyone looked at each other, nodded their heads in assent, then piled into the small plane and took their seats. “Seatbelts!” the pilot belted once he shut the door, quite unnecessarily.
The mood was tense as the plane took off. Riza had a feeling that the risky takeoff wasn’t the main cause. Anis shrieked as the wheels hit little rocks along the ground, causing the plane to jilt multiple times.
But the mood lightened and sighs of relief were heard as the plane successfully launched into the air and made its way to Iraq. They were on their way to save the girls. Riza smiled.
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