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. . .
The fire blazed hot and bright, filling the crypt with a thick, resinous smoke. The empty credenza fell to ashes. The security camera blackened and sparked.
The stone floor was alive with a bubbling, molasses-like substance. Dark honey-colored eruptions boiled and burst. Steam collected and streamed hissing down the blistering walls.
In his office, Gustalav watched the scene through the warping security camera. His fingers were tight on the glass of brandy in his hand.
It had to come to this, he reminded himself. There was no other way.
The last image he saw was the heavy wooden sideboard collapsing before the camera ceased to function.
Geil had Carlos call for his messages at the Göttingen hotel early that morning, as per Reuben's instructions. Carlos wrote them out as Geil looked on. Karen, Elden, Karen, Gustalav, Paul, Elden.
The first two had come in late last night.
Carlos was allowed to contact Gustalav only. He did this under Geil's scrutiny, scribbling a few lines below the messages. His penmanship was a mere scratch as he listened to the Duke. It became even more illegible as he gripped the pen fiercely as a sudden pain tightened in his chest.
By the time he'd hung up the phone, his chest increasingly ached and the air seemed to fall short of his lungs. He licked his dry lips and slowed his breathing. The grip on his chest lessened.
Tolchov wouldn't take the news of a vault fire too well at this stage of the game, he knew, nor would he likely believe the account.
Gustalav had been completely bewildered by the arrangements Carlos had made.
The pain in his chest subsided, slowly ebbing to a throb, and Carlos took a shaky breath. The tight muscles in his near his sternum relaxed and he felt weak.
"I need some water," he told Geil.
The blond man hadn't noticed the change in the curator's demeanor, but he did bring a glass of water.
"I need to contact my museum." Before Geil could speak, Carlos continued. "Tolchov is going to want the funds without delay. It may take the whole day to—"
"We wait on his call," Geil decided. "That's what he said."
Carlos shook his head. "This is not a simple matter," he growled. "Even you can appreciate almost three million Euros."
Geil's face dropped momentarily. The Russian had hit the mark with this one. This was not petty cash—and it was all profit after the Russian sold the amber.
And all the more reason to follow orders. "We wait."
The day broke clear and warm after an early morning rain. The city of Berlin was washed from an overnight rain, but not clean. The most an observer could say was the water had sifted the thick grime from the air.
Lauren awoke slowly to her foreign surroundings. For a moment, she only listened to the nearby train and traffic. She heard the bathroom door creak and looked there.
It didn't creak when it closed; just upon being opened. She'd learned that last night during Reuben's trips to the bathroom; short trips that were followed by a low cursing and more of the milky white fluid he'd bought from the variety store.
She sat up as he came out.
He nodded at her. "Good morning."
She returned his greeting, evaluating his mood, deciding it probably wasn't such a good morning for him. She knew how she would feel after having her internal organs bruised and possibly worse. He looked much the same as he had when she'd met at the Colmar station. He was a bit gaunt, darker around the eyes, perhaps, but better than he should considering the previous twenty-four hours.
"How's that rash?"
She remembered to look at her leg. "Better. Still pink, but it doesn't itch." She got out of bed and started straightening the sheets.
"Leave that."
She nodded. "You shaved," she said needlessly, glancing at him as he went to the table. Her thoughts were on the credit card and how to retrieve it from the mattress.
"You're not objecting."
"Not at all." She walked around the bed, gathering toiletries from the nightstand. "Are you finished in the bathroom?"
He was putting more accessories in the duffle bag. "Almost. Go ahead."
She looked at the bottle of cognac on the table. In the morning sun, it shone a dark amber color. It was almost halt empty. No wonder his stomach had been protesting all night. She knew it wasn't the liquor that caused all the trouble.
"I'm in no burry." She sat on the bed and casually picked a tangle out of her hair.
"I am," he said, shaking out his vest and carefully pulling it on over the button-up shirt. "I'd like to find out what Geil has to report." He went into the bathroom.
She snatched the card without being seen, tucked it into her bra quickly, and then grabbed her toiletries while he was out of sight.
"You'll let me talk to Carlos?" she asked as he returned.
He nodded, placing her perfume atomizer on the items she carried. "My apologies. Refusing you that was a little excessive."
She smiled, hoping it didn't look as mechanical as it felt. "Thanks."
Thanks for subscribing! Watch your inbox for more chapters as Dr. Sheldon and Lauren elude competitors and mercenaries as they crisscross Europe following rumors in search of the lost Amber Chamber.
#treasure #amber #AmberRoom #AmberChamber #mystery #WorldWarTwo #WorldWarII #LostArtwork #history
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