The Thirteenth Skull (Alfred Kropp 3)
She slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alfred, I don’t know any person named Sofia.”
“Nueve said she was the goddess of wisdom.”
Abby gave a weird little laugh. “Did he?”
“What’s the Thirteenth Skull?”
“The . . . what?”
“Thirteenth Skull. Jourdain is looking for it.”
“Is he? How . . . extraordinary.”
“So you know about it?”
She nodded.
“You’re about to tell me it’s classified, aren’t you? You’ve got that ‘it’s classified’ look.”
“I was about to tell you Jourdain is chasing a chimera if he is searching for it. The Thirteenth Skull is a myth.”
“What’s the myth?”
She shook her head. “What does any of it matter now, Alfred? In a few days, none of this”—she waved to indicate the world according to OIPEP—“will be your concern. You’re free now.”
She turned on her cherry-red heels and hurried from the room. I took a quick shower to wash off the mud and cow poo, found a toothbrush by the sink, and scrubbed my teeth, then yanked on a regulation black OIPEP jumper I found hanging in the closet. Using the mirror in the bathroom, I combed my hair with my fingers, thinking I probably wouldn’t be combing my hair if Ashley wasn’t my extraction coordinator. She had quit OIPEP after encountering sixteen million demonic fiends in the Sahara, which totally freaked her out, and I never thought I would see her again. Just my luck when I did I was wearing a dress. But I’d also lost a lot of weight and grown another inch and my hair had those funky, cool gray streaks in it and I was thinking that’s what happens when you go through a big change, the old you lingers in your mind’s eye, like a ghost limb of an amputee.
They were waiting for me in the outer room, Ashley, Abby, Nueve, and Mr. Needlemier. I slid into the empty seat next to Ashley and said, “I’m a guy again.”
“Smooth,” Nueve murmured.
He turned to Mr. Needlemier. “In ten minutes we depart for happier climes. The Company has agreed to extract Senor Kropp in exchange for the item stolen from Company possession.”
Mr. Needlemier nodded nervously. I thought of bobble-heads.
“So,” Nueve said, “do you have the item?”
Mr. Needlemier looked at me. I nodded. He unlocked his briefcase and pulled out the Great Seal of Solomon. I took a deep breath. Now OIPEP would have both the Great Seal and the Holy Vessel with all those demons locked up inside it, able to free them and do whatever the hell they wanted with them. I looked at Abby. If she wasn’t the director now, I thought, I wouldn’t do it. I didn’t trust OIPEP that much— never had—but I trusted her. Abby would keep the Seals safe. She’d make sure nobody ever released the Outcasts of Heaven again.
Nueve reached over and practically snatched the ring from Mr. Needlemier’s quivering fist. His dark eyes shone as he held it up. The Seal glittered under the fluorescent lights.
“Good,” Abby said crisply. She was all business now. “We’re at the edge of the security envelope.” She stood up, Ashley stood up, and then Nueve stood up. Mr. Needlemier and I didn’t stand up.
“Alfred,” Abby said.
“Alfred,” Ashley said.
“Alfred,” Nueve said.
“May I have a few moments alone with Alfred?” Mr. Needlemier asked.
Nueve was immediately suspicious. “For what purpose?”
“For the purpose of saying goodbye.”
Abby looked at her watch. “Five minutes.”
On their way out, I heard Nueve say to Abby, “Sentimentalist!” The door closed. Mr. Needlemier glanced through the window to make sure they weren’t trying to eavesdrop. I could have pointed out they probably had the room bugged. He scooted his chair close to mine.