Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
He nods, steps toward the ruined castle on the top of this mountain in Austria, nearly darkened skies still filled with winged predators above us, and begins walking into what I see is a long, dark passageway to the unknown.
We follow. No ceremony. No questions. No looks of curiosity between us. Just an exhausted and shared comprehension that none of that shit matters now.
I don’t know if it’s God who’ll be cutting us down, but it sure as shit will be someone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Following the Austrian down the long, dark corridor that leads us into the interior of the castle, I now believe I know what this is. Definitively. There are signs and indications everywhere.
This is the endgame of a match that was begun one night seven years ago. The night we stole the diamond—the diamond—from my father’s safe. The night that began an odyssey that feels like it is finally nearing its end.
There is no possible way we are here for any other reason than the diamond.
Christine said the name back by the side of the Autobahn: “Gorny. Mr. Gorny,” she said. Russian. The diplomatic plates on the cars: Russian. Those who killed my mother and father because of the diamond we stole: Russian.
The seven-carat diamond we stole seven years ago.
That last part might just be coincidence. Seems incredibly poetic to the point of opera for it to be anything other, but then again, Russians do love their operas, so…
Maybe. I suppose.
Maybe when Christine went up onto that roof and shot that oke David, she also pulled the trigger on a chain reaction set in motion by the Russians my father owed and from whom, by proxy, we stole. They want their diamond back. They must. There’s nothing else that could be driving this all.
Unfortunately, they will be greeted with the disappointing news that we do not have it. I have no idea where it is. I must assume it to have been left behind in the glass house in the woods all those many eons ago, but truthfully, I’ve no idea. If the plan here is that they will hand us Andra and Theo in exchange for the diamond, then they are sorely out of luck.
And then what? What happens after? How do we navigate our way out of this?
At the moment, I can only think of one way. It’s not how I ever thought my story would end. It’s assuredly not how I want it to. But, right here and now, it’s the only way I can see that makes any kind of sense. I was prepared before. I still am now.
My father is dead. My mother is dead. Lars is dead. What started with a deep and courageous love between a Zulu man and a white woman lo those many years ago will find its end here, now, today, in this place. And it will be so that others may carry on. That others may have the chances that I had but squandered. That others may live the life that they deserve and not the lives I have foisted upon them.
I chuckle quietly to myself because even in the face of my impending demise, I retain the belief that I have control. But so fokken what, eh? What good is being a narcissist if you plan on abandoning your god complex at the end? Seems a waste of a good personality disorder.
We arrive at a large, ornately carved door done in the classic baroque style so immediately recognizable as Austrian, and our guide pauses as he turns to say, “They are right through here.”
He spins back and a silent stiffening happens between the three in my company. Of the four of us, only I do not reinforce my spine. Because I have already accepted my fate. I hope, no matter what happens in these next, last moments, that I am granted the opportunity to say goodbye. I hope that in the midst of whatever hail of gunfire or brutal torture awaits I am somehow able to seize their attention and tell them I love them. Christine and Danny. That I love them and that I’m sorry.
I hope Eliza gets Andra back. I hope Theo is unharmed. I hope everyone gets all that they wish and gets to live life its fullest.
And I hope it’s quick. For me. I hope the end comes swiftly. Because I’m over all this fokken kak and I’m really in no goddamn mood to fok about.
Ah. There he is. The old Alec I know. Good man.
I am prepared. I am prepared for whatever this is to be. I’m ready.
Except, as the Austrian pushes the door open and we step ahead to greet what lies beyond, I discover…
I’m not.
I’m not ready.
Not even remotely.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
It’s not hyperventilation, what I feel entering this place, but it’s close. I have a flash.