ROOM OF FIRE 38

Chapter 38

The Amber Room, 1715

If you’re just joining this story, you may want to start from the beginning.

This story follows the first in Jenn’s Rediscovered series, Last Assault on Oak Island.

Onward with the search for the Amber Room. . .

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Lauren and Reuben didn't leave Halberstadt until after one o'clock that afternoon. He was irritated at the delay, but glad to be back on the road again. Before they left town he called Berlin and made arrangements to meet his client.

Lauren sighed as she watched the countryside pass out the window after they left town. The high, warm sunshine tempted sleep after her restless night in the truck. The rumble of the large vehicle's tires was almost relaxing. She touched her leg where the credit card pressed. She had never worn it this long before. The letters had rubbed her skin sore and the first aid tape she'd used to secure it was threatening to fall off. She'd had to tie it in the Gastestätte ladies room when Reuben knocked on the door.

She let herself think about Carlos. For the last twenty-four hours, she had tried to keep her mind off the curator. Her imagination kept interfering, creating horrible scenarios from her limited information.

She threw a dark look at Reuben. He could have at least let her talk longer to Carlos when he called Geil.

Reuben ignored her scowl and she turned her attention to the window again. The land had flattened, covered with gold and deep green fields. Tree lines separating crops broke the colorful patterns.

A feeling of isolation sank her spirits. There hadn't been more than a farm or cottage in twenty miles. She looked into the side view mirror to find nothing.

A bend in the road ahead was sheltered by a tree line and when the truck got to it, Reuben stomped on the brakes. A car parked askew with its hood open blocked both lanes.

She braced herself at the sudden slowing. She saw no one at the car. Reuben brought the truck to a halt a few car lengths from the stalled vehicle.

He reached beneath his seat and grabbed his gun. She was about to comment when she felt a hand on her arm on the open window ledge. There was a click in her ear.

The blood froze in her head as her attention jerked to her side. She stared back at the man reaching in the window, his grip clenching around her arm, locking her into place as she pulled from him. In his other hand was a gun, held inches away from her temple. A lone jagged tooth hung in his unpleasant grin. She stopped struggling.

Reuben relinquished the gun at the sight of Metz at Lauren's window. He sat back and slowly put both hands on the steering wheel.

"That's better, Reubens," Rybak said with a chuckle, suddenly at Reuben's open window.

Lauren's attention spun to see the man at Reuben's door. The Polish shadow.

"You make any wrong moves, Reubens, and you'll have to find a new fraulein," Rybak said.

Reuben stared at the eye patch the Polish man now wore. "Your eye fall out again?"

Rybak only laughed.

Reuben pressed his back to the seat. "Don't you ever acquire anything the old-fashioned way?"

Rybak smiled at his own genius, obviously pleased he had predicted Reubens' moves to a lucrative end—again. "Why should I? You make it so much easier this way." He stepped back and opened the door. "Get out. Both of you."