The Stone of Destiny (A Tom Wagner Adventure) by M.C. Roberts & R.F. Maclay

The Stone of Destiny (A Tom Wagner Adventure) by M.C. Roberts & R.F. Maclay

Author:M.C. Roberts & R.F. Maclay [Roberts, M.C. & Maclay, R.F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-15T07:00:00+00:00


24

A broom closet in Villa Quinta do Monte

Tom’s head throbbed and roared as he slowly regained consciousness. It took him a moment to understand where he was. He reached around to the back of his head, where the hammering pain was centered. His hair felt wet. Blood.

“What happened?” moaned Hellen, also slowly coming to her senses. She tried to sit up.

“What do you mean, what happened? You tased me! And I’m pretty sure that English guy also bashed me over the head.” Tom probed his head wound with his fingers. Then he unclipped his SureFire flashlight from his belt at the back of his trousers and turned it on.

“Actually, I think that’s my fault,” Hellen said. “I remember now. That happened when I pulled you over the threshold – sorry.”

“You pulled me over the threshold? Well, just as long as you didn’t carry me over the threshold and we’re now hitched, everything’s okay.”

Hellen struggled to sit up and gave Tom a tortured smile. “He threatened me. What was I supposed to do? When I dragged you into this broom closet, he tased me, too.”

“A broom closet?” repeated Tom, looking around the small room. “You’re right, it really is a broom closet. A very spacious broom closet—imperial-sized, even—but a broom closet nonetheless.”

He lit his face with the flashlight from beneath his chin and twisted his mouth into a pained grin.

“Hilarious,” Hellen said. She reached out her hand to Tom. “Help me up, Mr. Wagner.”

Tom took her hand and, with a heave, got Hellen back on her feet. For a short moment, in the dim light of Tom’s flashlight, they looked deep into each other’s eyes.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of all this ‘Doctor’ and ‘Mister’ stuff. A murderer took us out with a stun gun and locked us in a broom closet together. Feel free to call me ‘Tom’.”

Before Hellen could say anything in reply, Tom leaned in and gave her a loud peck on the cheek.

“Don’t be surprised. We do that in Vienna. All that’s missing is the glass of wine, then it would be perfect.”

But Hellen just pulled a face and screwed up her nose. “Can you smell that?” she asked.

Tom raised his arm and sniffed his armpit.

“Sorry, that’s me. I tend to perspire when someone knocks me out.”

“That’s not what I mean, peabrain! It smells like . . .”

Tom shone the lamp around and the beam came to rest on the floor in front of the door. Smoke was wafting in through the small gap underneath.

“My God, something’s burning out there!” Hellen burst out.

Tom hesitated briefly. Fire was the only thing that scared the shit out of him; he had no desire to be burned alive. They had to get out of there. He pushed Hellen away from the door, and this time she was less surprised—but no less thrilled—when he smashed the door out with a powerful kick.

He managed to knock the old door completely off its hinges. For a moment, the swirling



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