11.
The steam locomotive
with its boiler engine was in full throttle across the valleys surrounded by
the round low hills with the setting sun on the rear of the ten carriages drawn
by it. The team have the luxury of the second last carriage with two servants
in attendance for their food and drinks. The carriage held fifteen luxurious
seating with the satin luxuries and the fine drapes over the windows. The
carriage was lighted by the then gas lights but these did not flicker.
“I am impressed with
the comfort here but don’t you think we ought to ….. like flies.” Lord
Greystoke was eager to get on the balloons. “Why are we doing it on the second
fastest mode?”
“We could fly in but we
are trying to remain inconspicuous. Germany had been monitoring our flying
balloons for they feared it may be used for spying. With the high attitude, we
can see a lot.” Mycroft explained. “M had allowed us this comfort for we have
the borders paid off to allow us free passage.”
“So much for that and
we hit the snag at the last border check.” Lord Greystoke raised his concern.
The train had then
pulled up at the station at the France and Germany border an hour ago. The
border officers boarded the train and in the carriage where the seven were
seated, a short figure dressed in the uniform with the knee high dark boots and
the cap with the dark visor inlaid with the braided strings to mark his
seniority.
“Guten Abend,” The
officer greeted in his native tongue. Then he saw the travel documents.
“English? Good. How are you? My name is Henrich, Walter. I am here to check
your documents.”
“And you …..can go
through but one cannot travel though. A Mr. Korvac.” Henrich looked towards Van
Helsing. “He is of Albanian origin and we are careful of your …. kind.”
“Korvac is one of us.
He goes with us.” Mycroft intervened. “I will call your superior.”
“You get me wrong. I am
saying he cannot be travelling here. He has to be move by another mean. I have
the carriage ready. He will meet you later in Germany.” With that, Henrich led
Korvac off the train and before Mycroft could complaint the train lurched
forward.
“Well, at least we are
having better meals here.” Mycroft rang the bell to signal the staff to bring
dinner.
“Gentlemen, dinner is
ready.” Mycroft saw then the two serving staff were not bearing food but
menacing double gauge guns at the exit and on the other side were two unknown
figures with the same guns.
“We are trapped…”
Mycroft did not get the words out when Watson reached fast with the dining
knife. The silver plated knife flew from his right fingers like a miniature
spear and thrust into the throat of the serving staff on the right. Next he was
tossing the small plate like a Frisbee at the second staff. On the other side
of the carriage, Lady Greystoke had her legs raised onto the seat and with her
knees bent she fired off both pistols at outside her thighs. The .22 calibre
was not an effective kill power but the placement of the bullet made the
difference. The bullets pierced the skin and the bone at the forehead and
impacted the brain flesh. It was also named the ‘dead shot’.
“Moriarty boys? And
girl?” One of the serving staff was a lady and Mycroft corrected his question.
“I am surprised that we were tracked here.”
“Moriarty has a lot of
allies including here in Germany. There is one named Von Herder who had a
preference for sniping tools hidden in walking stick. The man had one made for
Moriarty killer Colonel Moran.” Sherlock told the team. “I won’t be surprise
that we have more to contend with.”
They all felt it then
when the speed of the train was faster. It was moving too fast on a straight
stretch. Lord Greystoke looked out the window and the wind was blowing his long
mane back.
“I say we may crash.”
Sherlock looked of the window on his side. “We passed the last town ten minutes
ago and if my mind still recalled the land terrain, we shall be headed for a
long bridge which may never cross. Based on the movement of the shadows of the
trees I will say twenty minutes at most.”
“I do wondered how our
Korvac fared right now?” Mycroft asked.
On the carriage, and
served with the food in our paper bag, Van Helsing stretched his legs in the
cramp condition. It was a fancy carriage but the cushions were a bit too hard
for him. He was escorted to the carriage by the train and then shuffled on. He
looked to the side openings and found it sewn to the frame.
“Un-hospitable indeed”
The man grumbled to himself and then shifted his weight to ease on the hard
pressure up his butt. He was to lay back for a rest when the carriage went over
a bump and almost tossed him to the ceiling. Van Helsing cursed with his eyes
looking at the rooftop. It was then the arm shot passed the leather and wood
panels to grab at his face. He reached out with his silver arm and pried the
other hand off. He did not just pried it but crushed it with the pressure of
his fingers. The flesh squeezed and the then the bones beneath were exposed
before it broke under the silver fingers. There was no blood spurting out but a
yellow substance was seeping out.
“Darn!’ Van Helsing
cried out before he took the turn to pull the attacker down. It was a figure
dressed in darker shades but the tailor measurements were flabby by length. Van
Helsing moved aside to drop the body.
“Hello, Stalker.” Van
Helsing greeted the fallen attacker. He then raised his right feet to step on
the attacker in the face. That took care of any bitten fangs on his neck. He
knew that he was not in the clear when the horses stopped galloping. He reached
for the door latch but it won’t open so he created his own door. He stepped out
before he tossed the last remains of the wood from his right hand. He saw the
darker reception there.
“The witches of three,
or was it two now?” Van Helsing greeted the surviving witches there. “Are you
not exiled to the Black Forest?”
The three witches are a
trio of assassins with the darker interest in the occult. They were also from a
line of vampires but were not seen for some time and thought to retire to the
forest. Van Helsing had come across them before and barely survived the
encounters. He saw then the one he had crushed at the face crawled to the other
two. The witches did not die but they suffered wounds and needed time to
recover hence the spate of time that lapsed between their encounters. They
helped the wounded one up and then stared at the broken face. The nose was
dislocated and the left eye was out of the socket. The right hand was a pulp at
the wrist. The wounded witch reattached the eye ball and then tore at the loose
flesh on the right wrist.
“Van Helsing, you are
worthy of the task. We have fought the three encounters but each time we needed
time to recover. This time we will win.” The witches drew from behind their
back the short rifle with an extended round magazine for the extra bullets.
“These are called repeaters but at a much accelerated speed. And you can shoot
with one good hand.”
“And we are good at
it.”
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