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“Potato, potahto. Your judgment doesn’t concern me in the slightest.”
“Apparently.”
Greene inhaled again. “Do you know what it’s like to watch the planet being ravaged and destroyed right in front of your eyes?”
“I’ve been around the world,” Annja said. “I’ve seen abject poverty, environmental disasters. And, usually, they’re caused by people like you who con themselves into believing their cause is just. Except justice is a facade. You’re all after power or money. Greed drives you and others like you. You can try to spin it, but it doesn’t change that you’re out for yourself.”
Greene slapped her so suddenly that the shock of it sent Annja reeling. She tasted blood in her mouth and took a breath.
“You don’t know me, Annja Creed. And you have no right to criticize the work I’ve done.”
Annja wiped her mouth. “You were the one who kidnapped me, Greene. I don’t want to be here. But you gave me no choice. So, as far as I’m concerned, I have every right to comment on your petty little world vision. Don’t like it? Then you can drop me off here.”
“Or I could just kill you.”
“Nah, you need me. Reginald’s waiting, remember?”
“I told you I could find another way if it became necessary.”
Annja smirked. “Yeah, you said that. But I don’t believe you. If there was another way, then you probably wouldn’t have driven to Brooklyn to kidnap me. But the fact you drove down to New York tells me you’ve run out of options.”
Greene sat smoking quietly for a few moments. “All right, I’ll be honest. I do need you. But would you prefer to do this in relatively decent health or in a world of pain?”
“You’re into torture, too? Well, there’s another character trait to be proud of.” Annja shook her head. “You’re just full of greatness, aren’t you?”
Grudgingly, Greene laughed. “Compliments will only get you so far, Annja.”
She could, of course, use the sword to kill Greene and his associate behind the wheel. But what would that achieve, except her freedom? Annja would never find out what Reginald Fairclough wanted with her. Or how he even knew her.
She racked her brain but the name still didn’t ring any bells. Of course, it was a little tough thinking when she was feeling the secondhand effects of Greene’s marijuana.
Her head swam, but Annja blinked the dizziness away. “Tell me more about the book dealer.”
Greene eyed her. “We have a detente?”
“We don’t have anything, Greene. You’ve got a captive—for the moment—and my piqued curiosity. I don’t think I know Fairclough, yet he wants to see me. That intrigues me.”
“Lucky me,” Greene said. “I’ve piqued your curiosity.” He chuckled quietly and then coughed. “Fairclough is one of the most renowned experts in early history texts. I don’t suppose you know much about that, do you?”
Annja shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”
“I’m sure.”
“Fairclough apparently thinks I’ve got some value.”
Greene mercifully stubbed out his cigarette and regarded Annja. “He’s bordering on insane.”
“Well, good, then you two will have a lot to talk about.”
“He’s also dying right now. As we speak.”
“From what?”
Greene smiled. “I’ve got him hooked up to a slow IV drip. It’s currently leaking a motley assortment of narcotics into his bloodstream. I’d give him about thirty-six hours before he’s dead.”
Annja looked at Greene. “Why in the world are you killing him?”
“He’s got something I want. I thought I told you that earlier.”
“You mentioned that. But you didn’t tell me what it was you’re after.”
“I want a certain book in his collection. It’s very old. Ancient, in fact. Fairclough acquired it a few years ago. It’s his most prized possession.”
“Well, I don’t blame him for not wanting to give it to you. A manmade book? You’d probably just burn it.”
“I will do no such thing,” Greene protested. “In fact, I want to study it and learn what it has to teach.”
“What’s so special about this book?”
“It’s an ancient account of the history of the world. The tome used to be in the library at Alexandria. Of course, the history ends with the destruction of the library.”
Annja narrowed her eyes. “I thought the texts in the library were incinerated during the fire.”
“They were.”
“But not all of them.”
“Not all of them,” Greene agreed. “And Fairclough got his hands on this text. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
“Maybe.”
“The Tome of Prossos, the ascetic.”
“What do you hope to learn from it?”
Greene shrugged. “It might tell me a lot about how the world used to be before we all got into the business of destroying our home.”
Annja waited for him to continue. When he didn’t she prodded, “Is that it?”
“Does there need to be more?”
“I guess not,” Annja said. “But I don’t think you’re being honest with me. Whatever. I’ll talk to Fairclough. But don’t think for a moment that I’ll help you get it back from him.”
“You might change your mind once you meet him. He can be quite persuasive.”
“Does he kill people to get his point across?”
“Not that I know of.”
Annja nodded. “Well, there’s a big point in his favor already.”
Greene leaned back and looked through the windshield. Annja felt the change in the engine’s thrum. They were slowing down. Greene’s associate took an exit off the highway, and she watched as they drew into what looked like a small town.
“We’re almost there,” Greene announced.
“Good,” said Annja. “I’m dying to get out of this van. It reeks in here.”
Greene eyed her. “I’d be very careful of judging what you don’t fully comprehend, Annja.”
“I don’t know how much is left to comprehend,” she said. “You want a book that Fairclough owns, and he doesn’t want to give it to you. I don’t blame him. And for some reason, he wants to talk to me. So fine, I’ll talk to him.”
Greene watched her for a moment and then looked down at his gun. “We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Fairclough lives on the outskirts of town in a rather large estate.”
“Is he retired or actively still in the business?”
Greene shrugged. “The internet allows him to work from the comfort of his home.”
“Technology’s not all bad.”
“That remains to be seen. Maybe when this…meeting…is over you’ll understand that.”
“Or maybe not,” Annja said.
Green hefted the pistol. “Maybe not. Indeed.”
Annja leaned back and waited for them to arrive at Fairclough’s mansion. She had her own ideas on how to resolve this situation.
Chapter 4
Fifteen minutes later, the van rolled to a stop before turning left down a long winding gravel road—to Fairclough’s estate, presumably. Annja tried her best to pick out details as the van rolled in, but the cloudy evening sky cast long shadows across much of the landscape. Still, Annja could see sprawling lawns, well manicured, and shrubs perfectly coifed, creating the idea of an English country estate. As they drew around the corner hedged in by a massive rhododendron, Annja could see Fairclough’s house for the first time.
Floodlights aimed at an angle to the brick and stone exterior displayed the full magnificence of the mansion. Light poured out of the massive windows and ivy crawled over one entire side wall.
“Impressive,” Annja said.
Greene sniffed. “It’s horrendous. A grotesque stain upon what would otherwise be a beautiful landscape.”
“You’d deny him his right to own a home like this? It’s not like he got his money from poisoning kids or burning down forests.”
Greene shrugged. “Money is greed. Its only real value is in bringing our planet back closer to the purity of its origins. Does it look as if Fairclough cares about anything but his own personal pleasure?”
Annja shook her head. “His bank account is his own business. As far as I’m concerned, Fairclough got his money doing something good—promoting the value of books. I think a lot more people could use a reminder of how great books are. No one reads much these days unless it’s an easy-to-digest sound bite. Just take a look at the last election cycle.”
Greene cocked his head to study her. “I don’t vote.”
“Then you’ve got no right to complain.”
He laughed. “You’re pitifully naive, Annja. You think your vote matters?”
“I don’t know. But it’s a right and a responsibility, so I take it seriously. Not that I’m around much during elections.”
“You’re allowed to vote only because the corporations—those with the real power in the world—let you. This is how they manipulate you into thinking you have some measure of power, when you don’t. None whatsoever.”
“What paranoia.”
Greene raised his eyebrows. “Think about it—what happens if one party gets too much power? Next election, the other party gains more power to balance it out. In recent years extremism has become mainstream with the advent of the Tea Party. I mean, really, look at that swath of candidates who came to power last year. Idiots, racists and people who wanted to destroy the Constitution they claimed they would die to protect. And you all fell for it. Pathetic.”
“So, what would you do—kill them?”
Greene shrugged. “Well, it’s not a perfect solution. But for the time being, it works pretty well.”
“Can I get out of this van now and get some fresh air?”
Greene nodded.
Annja grabbed the side panel door release and jerked it back on the rails. As it slid open, a rush of fresh air greeted her and she breathed it in deeply. It felt good to flush her lungs.
The air outside was heavy with moisture and she could see droplets of water on the grass. She stepped out and felt the gravel beneath her shoes.
Greene emerged behind her and she heard the driver’s door close with a slam. She glanced and saw Greene’s associate come around the hood of the van.
Greene waved him over. “Annja, you haven’t been properly introduced to Kessel yet.”
Kessel stood in front of Annja and folded his arms. He said nothing.
Annja looked him up and down. “Does that pose go over well with the ladies?”
Kessel said nothing. Annja glanced at Greene. “Real conversationalist you got yourself here.”
“His tongue was cut out during the first Gulf War by the Iraqis when he was captured and tortured for information.”
“Why would they cut his tongue out if they wanted him to spill?”
“Kessel told them from the start that he wouldn’t divulge any information that would compromise his unit. They didn’t like that response. So, instead of trying to break him, they simply sliced his tongue off like some piece of meat and fed it to a dog.”
Annja shook her head. “Horrible.”
“Effective,” Greene said. “But it did have an effect on Kessel that led him eventually to me. He came to see that all the wars being fought were simply proxy battles engaged in by corporate masters. That soldiers like him were being manipulated as expendable pawns. He grew to despise the vast industrialism rampant in the world today.”
“You really think that?”
Greene nodded. “Yes. I do.”
Kessel nodded, as well. “All right,” Annja said, “let’s go see Fairclough and get this over with.”
Greene stopped her. “Annja, I don’t want you thinking this is going to be a quick job. If Fairclough is as I expect him to be, you may find yourself in for quite a challenge.”
Annja frowned. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
