Treue’.
“What does it mean?” I whispered.
He cleared his throat and spat into a plant pot next to my chair, groaning as he stood up, with one hand supporting his back. “‘My Honor is Loyalty’. On the reverse side it says, ‘With Cordial Comradeship from Heinrich Himmler’. He was a German officer and leader of the SS before and during the Second World war. I was born on the same date — the 7th of October — as him. Over a hundred years apart of course, but I have always admired his strength of purpose. His ideas were extremely advanced for his time. He gave 200 of these daggers to the men who helped him achieve his masterplan. A plan that began with a night called, ‘The Night of the Long Knives’.”
He walked around me and sat back down in the lounge chair next to mine. The thought came to me that he made no sound when he walked. The dagger felt heavy in my hands. Another thought arrived. I felt it come from the dagger. This was the dagger that killed my mother. I was sure of it. I pulled the blade fully out of its scabbard and looked across in the dark at the outline of Sir Thomas. After a moment, I pushed the dagger back into its scabbard and reached for the whisky on the table. Taking a huge swallow, feeling the burn of it down my throat, I slowed my breathing and my thoughts. I could hear him breathing next to me. Another surge of hot hatred came. I took another swallow of the whisky.
The crystal glass suddenly shattered in my hand. I had squeezed too tight. The top half had collapsed into the bottom and I felt blood seeping from my hand. Sir Thomas didn’t seem to have noticed. I put my broken glass back on the table, with a thump.
“Oh damn. Sorry, I’ve just broken your glass.”
“Don’t worry about that. Get yourself another from the cabinet. We have things that we have to talk about urgently.”
I got up from the chair and, putting the dagger on it, crossed to the sliding doors. Opening the clearfilm doors to the living room, I went inside. A single lamp near the door lit the room in a soft yellow light. Mariko, still in UNPOL uniform, didn’t say anything but looked questioningly at my hand. I shook my head softly with a glance to the bodyguards, who watched me when I came in, and then professionally looked away.
I got a new glass from the cabinet and, wrapping a tissue around the bleeding wound, went back out to the balcony. Sir Thomas hadn’t moved. His dark shape stared forward, his back hard up against the chair, arms on the armrests, the glint of a glass in his left hand. I picked up the dagger as I sat down, placing it back in my lap, then I twisted over to take the top off the whisky bottle and poured myself another shot. The little walk had done me good — I was back in control and focused again. The alcohol and my emotions had got the better of me. For a while back there I had come close, too close, to plunging the dagger into his chest. The whisky sat like a smoldering fire in my belly, waiting for the winds of my emotions to fan it. Be cool, Jonah. Stay cool, stay calm, learn and think.
“Jonah,” Sir Thomas hissed.
I jumped in my seat, startled. “Yes, Uncle.”
“I want you to do something for me. It is a test of your loyalty to me and to us as Hawks. Will you do it?”
“Yes. What is it you want me to do?”
“I want you,” his voice changed and he turned and leaned very close, putting his mouth next to my ear, almost a lover’s kiss, “to kill someone for me.”
I sat dead still. His words running through my brain. I felt stone cold sober. I cleared my throat, to be sure that there wasn’t a quaver in my voice, and didn’t turn to face him.
“Who is it that you want me to kill?” As I said this my brain was running through the list of people it could be. For a panicked sec I thought he might order me to kill Mariko in the living room. I sucked in air sharply. If he did that I’d kill him and we’d just have to take our chances with the bodyguards and Charles.
“Someone. Anyone. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the commitment. Kill and bring me evidence of your kill. Then I’ll believe that you can make life or death decisions. The greatest generals all cared for their men, and didn’t hesitate to spend them to attain their goals. This is no different.”
I exhaled slowly. We’ve already committed a crime together, I thought. This. Talking like this is conspiracy to murder. Enough to have both of us put in containment for years. I have to kill someone. Or I will die.
“When?”
“Within two weeks. You have until Friday week. Do it. Don’t get caught and don’t tell anyone what you are going to do. Especially not her.” He tilted his head and rolled his eyes in the direction of the living room. “If we decide later to bring her in, she’ll have to go through the same test of loyalty. But until then. Not a word.”
A test of loyalty or a tool for blackmail? I thought.
Sir Thomas continued with the same breathy quality to his voice: sexy in a woman, scary coming from the mouth of a seventy-five year old lunatic. “Events are moving fast. I need you to get through the test and join me. I want you to be by my side as these events unfold. He paused and leaned closer, reaching out with his hand he turned my face to his. He’s going to kiss me, I thought, shrinking back in the seat. But instead he spoke softly, his sweaty hand tenderly cupping my cheek. “If you can’t do this thing for me, then this will be our last two weeks on Earth together.” His eyelids lowered and he squinted through them looking directly into mine.
“What do I get when I do this?” I said, staring at him hard.
He smiled. “When you do this thing for me, I promise you power like you could never imagine.”
He patted my cheek lightly before standing up with a grunt. I looked up at him, my hands folded in my lap over the dagger. My sight impaired by a stray hair falling down over my eyes. I reached up and swept the hair out of the way, not taking my eyes off him. The reason for the two bodyguards became clear as I saw him shake his head slightly while facing the clearfilm windows of the living room. If I had refused I had no doubt my death would have been a dual suicide with Mariko, off Sir Thomas’s balcony. Or perhaps a staged crash on the Travway. Either way we wouldn’t have survived the night.
He seemed smaller in the dark, and his shoulders were slumped. He turned sharply almost as if on a parade ground. And then stopped and turned to me. “You better hide that,” he said, nodding at the dagger. I rose from the seat and slipped the dagger into the back of my bottom outers and lifted my jacket over it. I rolled my shoulders and shook my hands. He looked me up and down and then sniffed in loudly and tugged at his jacket. Straightening, his shoulders square and with his chest puffed out, he chuckled and clasped my arm.
“Come on. Let’s sally forth, eh?” he said, chuckling again as he opened the door and walked inside. The guards and Mariko came to attention sharply when Sir Thomas and I entered the room.
“At ease. At ease everyone. Relax. No need to be formal. It’s late and we’ve all had a long day. Mark…” I jumped at hearing the name, but realized he was talking to one of his bodyguards, “… please escort Jonah and Operative Mariko to their vehicle.”
“Sir!” The bodyguard, who I now knew was called Mark, saluted Sir Thomas and went to the door. He opened it, stepped outside and closed it after himself. I turned to Mariko and smiled. She didn’t smile back but stood with her legs apart and her hands behind her back in an informal ‘at ease’ position.
“Shall we?” I said and held out my hand to her. She smiled at me then and ignoring my hand walked towards the door. Sir Thomas put his arm out in front of her and clasped her arm as she passed him. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his lips and said, “My dear, I do apologize for being such a terrible host this evening, but in my defense, Jonah and I had some very serious matters to discuss. I look forward to having the opportunity to address my failure as a host in short order.”
Mariko smiled at him and left her hand in his. “Oh please don’t apologize, Sir Thomas. I think it’s wonderful how you and Jonah get on so well.”
Sir Thomas patted her hand and released it, smiling at her. His eyes puffy and bloodshot in the rimless round glasses. I crossed to Mariko and put my hand in the small of her back as we walked to the door. She put a hand out behind her to hold me back and pulled the door swiftly open, stepping through, her head moving from side to side. I saw through the gap of the door that Mark stood in the foyer next to the Lev port. The Lev door was open and a soft chiming noise came from it.
Mark left us only when we had climbed into our Titan, and Mariko had given him the thumbs-up from cockpit. I had bought the Titan in the week after Gabriel’s letter, worried about Mariko traveling on Levs. I slumped in the co-pilot’s Siteazy, too tired to even think about driving. Mariko took over and I looked out of the window at the world going by. Soon we were clear of the city and traveling up the Intracoastal Travway towards Sisik, still about two hundred and sixty kiloms away according to the Dev on the console.
Mariko was driving fast as we passed long-haulers transporting goods north to the markets of the Thai and
