which he blinked a couple of times, as if trying to make sense of something.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he replied, letting go of me. “Remember to press Send as soon as you’re face-to-face with Stenger. Now go.”
I nodded and turned around, the imprint of Ian’s kiss still burning on my lips.
I walked down to the road where Ian’s rented Mercedes was parked at the shoulder, hidden from the view of the mansion, but I didn’t enter the car. Instead, I would walk along the gravel road that led up to Stenger’s main entrance and ask to see him.
It only took about ten minutes for me to cover it and reach that wide stone porch where the two men were parading back and forth. Both of them stopped walking and turned to face me as I neared them. I came to a complete stop when I was just a few yards before them.
“Hello,” I said and gave them my most friendly smile. Ian and I had decided that I needed to do all I could to get to Stenger while making them think I was a friend of the family to rouse the least suspicion when we made Stenger change his plans later. “I’m here to see Otto Stenger. His son sent me.”
One of the men, a handsome, square-faced man with short, black hair that I instantly assumed must be a hybrid, said with a raised eyebrow, “Jonah sent you?”
“Yes. He has a very important message for his father. And he wanted me to tell him in person.” I grimaced. “He’s sick and can’t get out of bed. So I had to come in his place.”
The man glanced at his buddy, another attractive, buff male, as if asking what to do.
“Let me go in and talk to him,” the buddy said and disappeared into the house.
Squareface and I remained outside, neither one finding it necessary to say a word apparently, because the silence between us was so stark that I could easily hear the sound of crows cawing in the distance.
Soon the other man appeared and waved for me to enter the mansion.
“Thank you,” I said and walked through the front door he held open for me, feeling more than a little nervous. This was almost going too smoothly. I quickly shut down my nerves by reminding myself that Stenger had no reason to make my visit difficult. It wasn’t like he knew that I was coming here to see him because we wanted to stop the coups. This was why Ian and I had settled on this approach in the first place. It was the most likely to succeed.
The insides of the mansion were bright and beautifully but sparsely furnished. Big paintings hung on the walls of the long, winding corridor that the man was leading me through. Finally, he stopped in front of a closed door, then turned to me.
“Mr. Stenger is in his study, working,” he stated with a stony face. I nodded and smiled tightly in response, not daring to breathe as the man opened the door to let me in. I was finally about to see the legendary Otto Stenger, the mastermind of this evil movement that wanted to shackle the world, control all of it, change it according to his twisted worldview. What would he look like?
All I saw as the door fully opened was a wide oak desk that sat in front of a huge window facing the big back garden. The desk was surrounded by walls filled with books that gave the study the feel of a library. It certainly was spacious enough to pass for a little library.
Looking around, I wondered where Stenger could be.
It was then that I spotted an old man in a corner. Sitting in a wheelchair.
“You had a message from my son?” the man said, smiling pleasantly at me.
I tried my best not to stare at the man in the wheelchair, a green blanket covering his legs. Somewhere in his early seventies maybe, he looked like your average university professor, fine-boned and pasty-skinned from spending too much time inside, away from sunlight. There was quite a lot of blondish hair on his head for such an old man. As I had already surmised, nothing about him looked Serbian, and neither did he look anything like his handsome son,
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he replied, letting go of me. “Remember to press Send as soon as you’re face-to-face with Stenger. Now go.”
I nodded and turned around, the imprint of Ian’s kiss still burning on my lips.
I walked down to the road where Ian’s rented Mercedes was parked at the shoulder, hidden from the view of the mansion, but I didn’t enter the car. Instead, I would walk along the gravel road that led up to Stenger’s main entrance and ask to see him.
It only took about ten minutes for me to cover it and reach that wide stone porch where the two men were parading back and forth. Both of them stopped walking and turned to face me as I neared them. I came to a complete stop when I was just a few yards before them.
“Hello,” I said and gave them my most friendly smile. Ian and I had decided that I needed to do all I could to get to Stenger while making them think I was a friend of the family to rouse the least suspicion when we made Stenger change his plans later. “I’m here to see Otto Stenger. His son sent me.”
One of the men, a handsome, square-faced man with short, black hair that I instantly assumed must be a hybrid, said with a raised eyebrow, “Jonah sent you?”
“Yes. He has a very important message for his father. And he wanted me to tell him in person.” I grimaced. “He’s sick and can’t get out of bed. So I had to come in his place.”
The man glanced at his buddy, another attractive, buff male, as if asking what to do.
“Let me go in and talk to him,” the buddy said and disappeared into the house.
Squareface and I remained outside, neither one finding it necessary to say a word apparently, because the silence between us was so stark that I could easily hear the sound of crows cawing in the distance.
Soon the other man appeared and waved for me to enter the mansion.
“Thank you,” I said and walked through the front door he held open for me, feeling more than a little nervous. This was almost going too smoothly. I quickly shut down my nerves by reminding myself that Stenger had no reason to make my visit difficult. It wasn’t like he knew that I was coming here to see him because we wanted to stop the coups. This was why Ian and I had settled on this approach in the first place. It was the most likely to succeed.
The insides of the mansion were bright and beautifully but sparsely furnished. Big paintings hung on the walls of the long, winding corridor that the man was leading me through. Finally, he stopped in front of a closed door, then turned to me.
“Mr. Stenger is in his study, working,” he stated with a stony face. I nodded and smiled tightly in response, not daring to breathe as the man opened the door to let me in. I was finally about to see the legendary Otto Stenger, the mastermind of this evil movement that wanted to shackle the world, control all of it, change it according to his twisted worldview. What would he look like?
All I saw as the door fully opened was a wide oak desk that sat in front of a huge window facing the big back garden. The desk was surrounded by walls filled with books that gave the study the feel of a library. It certainly was spacious enough to pass for a little library.
Looking around, I wondered where Stenger could be.
It was then that I spotted an old man in a corner. Sitting in a wheelchair.
“You had a message from my son?” the man said, smiling pleasantly at me.
I tried my best not to stare at the man in the wheelchair, a green blanket covering his legs. Somewhere in his early seventies maybe, he looked like your average university professor, fine-boned and pasty-skinned from spending too much time inside, away from sunlight. There was quite a lot of blondish hair on his head for such an old man. As I had already surmised, nothing about him looked Serbian, and neither did he look anything like his handsome son,
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