Chapter 1.29

Captain Anderson finished recording Mike's version of events. Occasionally, as the story progressed, he would ask clarifying questions and then make separate notes.

"Is that all?" He asked Mike when he finished the story.

"Yes. The last thing I remember was a mace flying at my head."

"Did you manage to notice who it was?" asked the captain.

"No. I saw the mace for a fraction of a second, and sensed the stranger's presence in just a second."

"What, no details at all?"

"I've been thinking," Mike said. "It seems to me that this man has high disguise skills. Possesses Shadow magic at the very least. Probably uses an artifact to conceal his presence."

"Well, that's something," Anderson said, writing down what Mike said into his notes.

Suddenly they heard something moving outside the door. Judging by the sound outside the door, there were at least five people. The commotion went on for a while until someone knocked on the cell door and a muffled voice was heard.

"Open that demon door…"

Mike's face changed. He certainly recognized who the voice belonged. Anderson noticed the change in his face.

"Who's that there?"

"What do you mean you have to wait for permission…," the voice at the door continued.

"A walking problem," Mike sighed.

"That's it, I'm sick of waiting…" the voice at the door said.

At the same second, Mike and Anderson felt a strong magical surge. The engraving on the door flashed brightly and then quickly went out. A faint hissing sound was heard, and then the cell door opened sharply inward.

"Bam," the door banged violently against the cell wall.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing in there!" Anderson jumped up from his seat.

The cell door normally opened outward. But now it opened freely to the inside. Whoever had used magic didn't seem to know that, though it didn't stop the door from opening.

A young girl, not tall, dressed in the same leather top and leather shorts, entered the cell. The only addition was the sandals on her feet. Her barbaric appearance alone sent a chill down Mike's spine.

"Young lady! You shouldn't barge into a prison cell," Anderson pounced on her.

"Oops," Anastasia saw Anderson. "Grandpa, what for where you put in Little Mike's cell?"

"Aunt Asya," Mike told her, "What wind brought you here?"

Anastasia pushed "Grandpa" Anderson aside and walked over to Mike, who was still sitting on the bunk. Even with him sitting up, Anastasia was still not much taller than him.

"Poor boy," she said putting a palm on his head. "It's all right, Auntie's here to set you free," she said stroking him. "Hmm, you're wearing bracelets," she said, taking her hand away. "Ah, well..."

Before Mike could react, Anastasia lifted him by his arms and hoisted him onto her shoulder.

Mike finally figured out what was going on.

"Uncle Kai!" He shouted. "Save your nephew."

At Mike's shout, Kai de Graaf peeked through the open cell door.

"Hello, Michael," he said. "Asya put the boy on the floor. He can walk by himself."

"He's got bracelets on," Anastasia replied nonchalantly.

"Only has hands bound together, but his feet are free," he pointed with his hand.

"Really?"

"Yes," Kai confirmed.

Anastasia placed Mike on the floor and examined him carefully.

"Really," she said, seeing that his legs were not bound together. "Okay, let's go."

She grabbed Mike by the arms and dragged him out of the cell and along the corridor. In the corridor, besides Kai de Graaf, there were a guard and two escorts.

"Auntie," Mike asked her loudly. "Do you know where to go?"

Anastasia stopped abruptly and turned to look at Kai.

"Kai, honey," she asked him. "Where do we go?"

"How should I know?" the man replied. "You dragged me here right away, instead of to the local colonel."

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"Okay, we'll find it somehow," she said and continued dragging Mike with her.

"You better show her the way," Kai said quietly to the guard standing nearby.

The guard looked at Kai and was about to say something when out of the cell came Captain Anderson.

"Young lady!" He called out to Anastasia. "You're going the wrong way."

"Yes?" She was surprised, but turned around and walked the other way.

"I can show you the way," Anderson said when she returned with Mike.

"Are you allowed to leave your cell?" wondered Anastasia.

"I work here!"

"In your cell?"

In Colonel Timothy de Rogan's office, where Catherine de Graaf sat, the door opened without a knock, and Anastasia walked in, literally dragging the taller Mike behind her.

"Good afternoon gentlemen," Mike hastened to say hello.

"I delivered him," Anastasia announced solemnly.

"I see that," Catherine said and pointed with her hand. "Have a seat."

Mike and Anastasia made their way to the vacant chairs across from Catherine.

"And who is this nice girl?" The colonel asked.

Catherine, from his question, almost choked with her tea. Noticing this, Anastasia stared at her angrily.

"This is my granddaughter Anastasia de Graaf and my great-grandson Michael de Graaf," Catherine introduced them.

"It is a pleasure to meet you." Said the Colonel to the two of them.

"Likewise, Colonel," replied Mike. Anastasia only nodded.

"Since you're already here," Catherine said. "The Colonel and I were discussing our next steps in your case, Mike."

"Am I going to be released?"

"Is he going to prison?"

Mike and Anastasia asked at the same time.

"First you will be released, and then possibly put in prison," the colonel replied to both at the same time.

"What?"

"Okay!"

Mike stared angrily at Anastasia.

"Auntie. You can't do that."

"Bad boys have to take responsibility for their actions," she said.

"But I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Have you read your file?"

"Yes, how…"

"That's enough! Two adults but acting like children," Catherine couldn't stand it. "I wish we could put you both in the same cell."

"No!"

"Don't."

They answered in unison. Catherine sighed and looked at the colonel.

"Excuse us for this family scene Colonel."

"It is nothing, Madame de Graf," replied the Colonel with a smile. "I have grandchildren growing up myself. So, I know."

Paul was sitting in his office at the Lone Star Bar, sorting out the current business papers. Sitting next to him was Johnny, reading a fashion magazine for men. A knock was heard at the door. Paul raised his head and looked at Johnny.

"Look who's there."

Johnny got up and opened the door. The bartender walked into the room.

"Is there a problem?" Asked Paul.

"A delivery came in from your acquaintance Louie, boss," said the man. "It's a big box, looks like an army thing. And a sealed envelope, too."

"Let's go show me," said Paul, getting up, "I hope you didn't leave it in the common hall?"

"No boss, we put it in the next room."

The next room was where the bar usually kept the booze and not-quickly-perishable groceries. When Paul walked into the room, he immediately saw a heavy wooden box with a metal lock on it.

"Did he pass the key to it?" asked Paul.

"No, boss."

"No?" Surprised Paul. "Where's the envelope? Give it to me."

The bartender handed Paul a sealed envelope. He quickly opened it and read the letter.

"What's in here, boss?" The bartender asked him.

"So," said Paul after reading it. "This box is to be put away in the basement. But away from the portal with the pentagram."

"Will do, boss."

"Next. Get all our guys together for tomorrow. Awl, Thornton, and Diane for sure."

"There's this… Boss," the bartender mewed, and Paul stared at him. " Awl's out of town."

"What?" Surprised Paul. "What an ungrateful bastard."

The letter he read contained instructions from Louie de Briand. Part of them concerned the heavy wooden box that lay before him. In it were two army mines. Louie needed a carriage with a hatch in the floor through which to drop the mine onto the road. Obviously, he was going to eliminate someone. Just the thought sent a chill down Poll's spine.

He had been in the business a long time and had seen a lot. And he was not exactly the noblest of men. But Louie de Briand gave him real fear. The way he had treated the kidnapped Selvi Meyer was not normal.

Paul made sure his men moved the wooden box to the basement. Then he headed for the secret hideout. Quickly activating the pentagram on the floor in the small room, he transferred to the hiding room.

There were three men in the room where he had transferred to two of his men and a healer. Paul had known the healer for a long time and had dealt with him quite often on both business and personal matters.

"Boss, is something wrong?" One of his men asked.

"No, everything's fine," Paul answered him and turned to the healer. "Stefan, how's the girl."

Stefan was a middle-aged man, not tall, and of medium build. He was completely bald. As he told himself, he went bald after a failed experiment. After that, he was nicknamed "Bald."

"Alive, in relative consciousness," he replied. "And why do you ask, Paul?"

"An instruction came in on her account."

"It's from…"

"Yes, from him."

"And what's in it for her?" asked Stefan.

"Apparently he doesn't want her anymore. He's giving her to us. Offers to sell her either in parts or whole. That's why I'm asking you, Stefan, how she is. Is there anything you can squeeze out of her?"

"Hmm," thought the man. "Entirely, after the way he worked with her, that's unlikely. Too bad, she was in good physical shape and had a nice body."

"And if for organs? We need to make at least something on her case. Otherwise, it's easier to kill her and get rid of the body."

"What's the hurry? You can always get rid of the body," Stefan said. "And as for the organs, I have to examine her, count the organs. And most importantly, I'll need to clear her body of the crap she's been drugged with."

"Do it. I'm asking you."

"All right, but it'll take two days to cleanse her system. And it'll cost you five gold coins."

"Okay, no problem," Paul sighed. "Just as long as there's a profit in it."

At this time, somewhere on the outskirts of the capital of Artea, in one of the mansions. On a spacious veranda in a comfortable armchair sat a middle-aged woman, fair-skinned and with long brown hair. She was actively smoking a pipe and puffs of smoke rose above her from time to time. The weather was quite warm, and the woman was dressed in a rather light dark navy dress with short sleeves and a long neckline on her chest.

"Mistress," a servant came up to her and bowed. "You have a visitor."

"Who?" she asked, not turning her head and letting out another cloud of smoke.

"Mr. Ibrahim Roh, Mistress."

"Invite him."

The servant bowed again and walked out. And after a couple of minutes, a rather large, medium-sized man approached her.

"Good afternoon milady," he said and bowed as well. "You look lovely."

"To what do I owe your visit, Ibrahim?" she asked.

"I need your instructions."

"Really?" She marveled, then gestured the servant away. "Leave us."

"Yes, Mistress," he said and quickly walked away, leaving them alone.

"Speak."

"You do remember that we have a body in possession. His name was Drake, I believe. From the Dark Empire."

"So? What's wrong with that?"

"Well, our friends took the head. They don't need the body anymore, milady."

"So, figure it out yourself. Why ask me?" A little annoyed, she said.

"He's from the foreign intelligence of the Dark Empire, milady," Ibrahim Roh reminded her. "They are looking for him. Allow me to return the body to them."

She thought for a moment and took another puff from her smoking pipe.

"Foreign intelligence, you say," she said, letting out a cloud of smoke. " Put it on their doorstep, let them all start moving. May the dogs bark in this swamp."