The Mummies of Blogspace9: Chapter Thirty-Seven

July 24, 2011
Seville, Spain
Samples      http://www.greatbigLeon.blogspace9.ex

Good music, fine wine, old friends — and I mean old! — we had ourselves a tearful reunion of sorts.  Shortly before 2:00 a.m. we crammed ourselves into Melchor Sacromonte’s little office behind the kitchen.  Assembled theirein were the following: Sacromonte; his muscle-guy Baltazar; my bud Bruce; his smoking-hot new dead girlfriend; Duran; and Cuellar, who looked like he lived under a bridge.  Good times!

I’ll admit it was awkward at first.  I was half in the bag from all the drinking, and I couldn’t stop staring at this girl Naya, who had nestled her five-hundred year-old self in Bruce’s lap, where she sat purring.  Cuellar was having a hard time with it, you could tell.  He asked her to dinner twice.  Not a tooth in his head, and I’m pretty sure he wet himself each time he started talking, but he actually asked her on a date twice.

Sacromonte was all business.  “Where is the gold?” he demanded.

“We’re working on that,” Bruce told him.  “There’s just one thing we need to do first.”

Sacromonte stared at his brandy.  “He is quite probably the most powerful man in Europe.  He will be heavilly-guarded.  Not only does he own the police, but on such a day, his wedding day, he will certainly take extra precautions.

“Here’s one thing I don’t understand,” I ventured.  “It’s our working supposition that the possessed Gaspar Quiroga y Vela, the five-hundred year-old Grand Inquisitor of Spain, intends to marry our friend Kim, right?”

I got some shrugs and general nods of agreement.

“Then how is it he lives in the Alcazar, one of the most famous buildings in Spain?  It’s a museum.  It’s open every day for tourists.”

“Part of it is open to tourists,” Sacromonte told us.  “Several of the upper levels are the property of the royal family, their official Seville residence.  But it’s been a long time since they dared enter.”

“So they know who he is?  They know that he lives there?”

Sacromonte lit a cigarette.  “They know who he is, but not what he is.  A malevolent businessman, nothing more, if you were to ask.  But he hovers like a doom over the monarchy.  They’d not dare oppose him.”

“Then how do we get in?” I asked.

“I’d advise you not to.”

“We get in,” Bruce chimed in, “the same way we got out.  There may be police and guards, but they won’t be in the harem.  They wouldn’t dare go there.  Baltazar knows the way out through the harem, so therefore he knows the way in.”

The large gypsy by the door looked up when he heard his name spoken, and once he had processed the words, he began shaking his head.  “No, no.  What would be the point?”

“The point would be to get me into the same room as him, close enough to touch him,” said Bruce.

Cuellar shrieked with either glee or horror, perhaps both.  “He’ll smell your blood before you enter the room.  He’ll have your soul in a place where it will never stop screaming, and he’ll flay your skin to keep him warm at night.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Bruce told him.

Bruce is like serious diesel at this point.  He’s a fearless diesel dude.

Sacromonte stared at him.  “And if we do this, you will bring me to the gold, or the gold to me?”

“Without hesitation.  You’ve earned it.”

Sacromonte gave it some thought.  “We will need to strategize.”

Bruce nudged the girl off his lap and produced a floor plan of the Alcazar, which he spread out on the desk.  “We enter here, through the hidden door in the fortress wall.”

Sacromonte nodded as Bruce continued.  “Once inside, we split up into two teams.  Leon, you and Baltazar find Kim.  Because if Quiroga gets cornered, he may try to use her.  Meanwhile, Duran and I will head to the private residence.  We’re going to hit him where he sleeps.”

“He doesn’t sleep,” Duran noted.

Bruce stared at him.  “Even you sleep.”

“But he’s far more powerful than I.  Remember, he is something more than a mummy, to use your term, something more than me.  He is also a sopay, a very old and very powerful malignant.  And that sopay has no more need for sleep than a shadow or a suicide does.”

“He’s right.”  Sacromonte poured another glass of sherry.  “And Cuellar is right too.  He’ll kill you the moment you walk in.”

Bruce shook his head.  “He’ll welcome me.  He needs to talk to me.  Remember, I have something he wants.  He can’t find the gold without me.”

“Then I’m coming too,” Sacromonte said.

“I’m coming too,” Cuellar managed to get out before a sneeze sent tendrils of mucous across the room.  “Pardon.”

“No, no.”  Our newly-formed gang seemed to agree on this point.  “You would be better here manning the telephone,” Baltazar suggested.  “Right here in the nerve center of it all – a most important role.”

Cuellar spat, then sulked back into a corner.

“You must all understand one thing,” Naya, the girl began as she clasped Bruce’s hand.  It was the first time I had heard her spoke, and her voice was nothing short of angelic.  “I will not leave his side, come what comes.  I have my own score to settle.  And I am not without considerable strength and resolve.”

More shrugs and nods of agreement.

“Let’s talk supplies,” Sacromonte offered.  “I will be armed, as will Baltazar.  Do any more of you wish to bring weapons?”

Bruce shook his head.  Only Cuellar and I nodded.  Cuellar got ignored.  I got a brutal-looking .45 automatic with a spare clip.

“One more thing,” Bruce noted.  “We don’t yet understand Kim’s frame of mind.  She may not welcome us.  Even so, we must take care not to harm her.  She’s one of us.”

“Word to that, my my mummy-hunting brother.”  I looked around the room.  “So what else do we need?  How much water should we bring with us?”  That got me nothing but frowns.

“We’re going to be in and out in an hour, Leon.  Have a drink of something now.  Use the bathroom too, while you’re at it.  We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

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