She continued walking towards her previous destination, her mind racing.
It was all so very confusing, and she realized she had gotten herself into
something much deeper and serious than she had thought.
She thought of her husband and how right he was. "I'm sorry, John." raced
through her head as she was trying to solve the puzzle. But now all her
mind was focused on were her son and husband.
There was no way off of the zeppelin now, and more than one of the men
involved in the case had plans to blow up the ship.
'The ouroboros was on board, how was that ever possible! Was that
what Gunter meant, when he told Heinrich that not only the Nazis would be
awaiting him but also Xhan's men.' It didn't make sense to her. Was her
assignment to retrieve the ouroboros and return to England? But one of
Churchill's men was already on that case so what was she doing here.
Her breakfast was left untouched as her gaze fixated on the blue sky
outside her window. A hand touched her shoulder. Perplexed, she looked up
to recognize the face.
"Lady Dietrich. . . A word."
He sat facing her, asking her not to make a scene for the case at hand was
of utmost secrecy.
She whispered with rage in her eyes. "You were in the conference, what the
hell are you doing here, I thought this assignment was given to me."
"It is Lady Roxton."
"Don't' call me that, you idiot. I am Miss Dietrich now."
The guy was surprised by her reaction, he had known her only by reputation
and had met her only once in Winston Churchill's conference room.
"Miss Dietrich, we are on this Zeppelin." He looked around eyeing the
people surrounding them. " We are on this ship to retrieve the ouroboros
and to stop Heinrich's work."
"What is it about Heinrich that makes him so important?" she asked.
"Not only does he have the ouroboros, but he has taken a glimpse into the
future, do you realize how dangerous that is."
"So that is what he meant by altering the course of war."
"Yes. Altering not only the war but the world."
She kept silent, replaying his words in her mind before she asked.
"What about blowing the Hindenburg?"
"That is our extreme scenario, and you better make sure you are not on it
as it is going to land in New Jersey in two days."
She got closer to him and grabbed his collar, her eyes dripping with
rage.
"You better make sure I am not on it, and you better make sure I go home to
my son and husband, or I swear I will haunt you even after my death."
"Please let us not make a scene."
She released her grip, her facial expression becoming one of mixed
anger and confusion. She had to get off of the Hindenburg, but she had no
tool that would enable her to do that at this point. Her only way off was
the ouroboros, and Heinrich was still nowhere in sight.
"I have to get off of this ship," she told him. He replied that he had no
possible way of helping her, that her only salvation was to get the
ouroboros, and once she had it, she was to be able to "teleport" herself.
"But why are YOU here ?" she questioned. "I am just here to protect you, my lady, you mean an awful lot to Mr. Churchill, but he had to send you, because he knew there was no one who could do this job better than you. We must have the ouroboros before we get to New Jersey. It's crucial." "But why, why all this trouble, tell me all you know," she whispered. "I cannot." "Yes you can. I am putting my life on the line here. The least you can do is tell me what I am fighting for." "World War Two, Lady Roxton," he whispered, lowering his head. "World War Two." Her eyes widened. She looked at him, but her expression was blank. Her memories trailed to many years before, to the war that supposedly was the last of the century, that supposedly was the last disaster. Images flashed, most of them like a newly scarred blister that reopened. "We must not let Heinrich see more into the years to come, and we must not let the Germans have the ouroboros . . . Lady, we have seen the future, and we are prepared to change many things. . . but not our victory." He stood, slightly bowed his head, then walked away from her disappearing into the corridors. Marguerite sat in her chair perplexed yet intrigued, she had to have the ouroboros now , she wanted to, she once was Parcifal. Parcifal that managed to alter the course of the first war, and now she was to do it again. It scared her, but she was not the kind to show it or even admit that fear.
The hours had passed, and still Heinrich was nowhere to be seen . 'He'd be in his room,' she had thought. But it was too dangerous to approach him, better let him come to her. She had one day, only one, and it was time for her to move in closer. "The hell with danger," she thought, grinning. "He cannot be more dangerous than the voodoo queen." She smiled and walked towards his room.
"Who is it?" asked a thick voice. "Heinrich, it is me, Margarita. I didn't see you for breakfast, and you weren't around all afternoon, I, I was worried," she replied with a most gentle, caring tone. The door opened, and he greeted her with his sophisticated posture, her eyes spoke volumes about his amusement and expectations. He made her sick, but she kept wearing the mask of innocence, one which reflected vulnerability and concern for his state. "Come in," he invited her. "Just let me put a few things away." He headed to his desk, gently grabbing the pouch and the few notes that lay on it, placing them in a drawer. She captured every single move, watching the key turn in its hole, making the drawer a secret haven. Later he slipped the key into his left pocket, then turned, smiled and offered her a drink. "To a prosper future," he said. She smiled at him, looked at her glass, caressing it with her finger, then glanced back at him. "To a prosper future." She took a sip, then stood from the couch. "I should better leave now." Before he was able to stop her, she placed the glass on the desk, studying her surroundings quickly for a future strike, and walked out of the room as gracefully and innocently as she had walked in. He watched her, wanted to have her, she kept amazing him more and more every time he met her.
She was laying on her bed when a knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts. The husky voice told her it was Heinrich. She got nervous suddenly, thinking of what he might want from her at such a late hour. She slowly opened the door that soon revealed the thoughts that had been hidden in the depths of the man. She tried shutting the door but it was too late, he was already inside.
"You know what, kid? I have a wonderful idea." Eric looked at his father, kneeled beside him, helping him build a giant wooden castle and smiled at the thought of another adventure with his father. He said nothing but waited patiently for the plans, his eyes glowing with mirth. "How about tomorrow we go visit Granny," Roxton said, adding another cube to the growing structure. "Can we ride ponies as well?" the little boy asked hopefully. "Of course, we'll ride ponies and then have a picnic." He came closer and whispered to his son. "And since mummy is not here, we get two slices of cake instead of one," he winked at Eric. The boy giggled and hugged his father. Roxton took him in his arms, stood up and headed upstairs for some sleep. But not before he told his little son another story, that was the deal.
'Where are you, Marguerite?' he thought constantly. The assignment had dragged. He was expecting that, but he was not ready to accept it. She had been gone for almost four days now, and if anything was to happen to her. . . He shouldn't think that way. She'd be back in no time, he convinced himself. She had to. No one deserved to be separated in the way they were separated.
"But why are YOU here ?" she questioned. "I am just here to protect you, my lady, you mean an awful lot to Mr. Churchill, but he had to send you, because he knew there was no one who could do this job better than you. We must have the ouroboros before we get to New Jersey. It's crucial." "But why, why all this trouble, tell me all you know," she whispered. "I cannot." "Yes you can. I am putting my life on the line here. The least you can do is tell me what I am fighting for." "World War Two, Lady Roxton," he whispered, lowering his head. "World War Two." Her eyes widened. She looked at him, but her expression was blank. Her memories trailed to many years before, to the war that supposedly was the last of the century, that supposedly was the last disaster. Images flashed, most of them like a newly scarred blister that reopened. "We must not let Heinrich see more into the years to come, and we must not let the Germans have the ouroboros . . . Lady, we have seen the future, and we are prepared to change many things. . . but not our victory." He stood, slightly bowed his head, then walked away from her disappearing into the corridors. Marguerite sat in her chair perplexed yet intrigued, she had to have the ouroboros now , she wanted to, she once was Parcifal. Parcifal that managed to alter the course of the first war, and now she was to do it again. It scared her, but she was not the kind to show it or even admit that fear.
The hours had passed, and still Heinrich was nowhere to be seen . 'He'd be in his room,' she had thought. But it was too dangerous to approach him, better let him come to her. She had one day, only one, and it was time for her to move in closer. "The hell with danger," she thought, grinning. "He cannot be more dangerous than the voodoo queen." She smiled and walked towards his room.
"Who is it?" asked a thick voice. "Heinrich, it is me, Margarita. I didn't see you for breakfast, and you weren't around all afternoon, I, I was worried," she replied with a most gentle, caring tone. The door opened, and he greeted her with his sophisticated posture, her eyes spoke volumes about his amusement and expectations. He made her sick, but she kept wearing the mask of innocence, one which reflected vulnerability and concern for his state. "Come in," he invited her. "Just let me put a few things away." He headed to his desk, gently grabbing the pouch and the few notes that lay on it, placing them in a drawer. She captured every single move, watching the key turn in its hole, making the drawer a secret haven. Later he slipped the key into his left pocket, then turned, smiled and offered her a drink. "To a prosper future," he said. She smiled at him, looked at her glass, caressing it with her finger, then glanced back at him. "To a prosper future." She took a sip, then stood from the couch. "I should better leave now." Before he was able to stop her, she placed the glass on the desk, studying her surroundings quickly for a future strike, and walked out of the room as gracefully and innocently as she had walked in. He watched her, wanted to have her, she kept amazing him more and more every time he met her.
She was laying on her bed when a knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts. The husky voice told her it was Heinrich. She got nervous suddenly, thinking of what he might want from her at such a late hour. She slowly opened the door that soon revealed the thoughts that had been hidden in the depths of the man. She tried shutting the door but it was too late, he was already inside.
"You know what, kid? I have a wonderful idea." Eric looked at his father, kneeled beside him, helping him build a giant wooden castle and smiled at the thought of another adventure with his father. He said nothing but waited patiently for the plans, his eyes glowing with mirth. "How about tomorrow we go visit Granny," Roxton said, adding another cube to the growing structure. "Can we ride ponies as well?" the little boy asked hopefully. "Of course, we'll ride ponies and then have a picnic." He came closer and whispered to his son. "And since mummy is not here, we get two slices of cake instead of one," he winked at Eric. The boy giggled and hugged his father. Roxton took him in his arms, stood up and headed upstairs for some sleep. But not before he told his little son another story, that was the deal.
'Where are you, Marguerite?' he thought constantly. The assignment had dragged. He was expecting that, but he was not ready to accept it. She had been gone for almost four days now, and if anything was to happen to her. . . He shouldn't think that way. She'd be back in no time, he convinced himself. She had to. No one deserved to be separated in the way they were separated.