23. Jet
JET
Isaw Sev’s face when I said what I said. When I used the one thing that haunts him to this day, more than a decade after the event.
Same way you would have me. If you could have.
I don’t blame Sev for what happened. I don’t think he could have protected me. He was barely a man himself, and our grandfather was a force. I swear he had the hand of Satan at his back.
But I can’t risk Amal.
I look at her walking beside me. She’s standing tall, her spine straight, eyes set, expression unreadable to all but me. She’s scared but she’s good at hiding it. It’s a facade she’s learned well over years.
When I squeeze her hand, the mask slips just a little. Just for a split second. Severin walks on the other side of her, slightly back, but I know he’ll keep his promise.
My brother is an enigma to most, but I know him. I know at his core he will do anything to protect his family. And like it or not, she is family now.
As soon as we’re in the lobby, one of the men lays Amal’s coat over her shoulders. I find it strange because they don’t bother to do that for me or Sev and I doubt it’s simply a man being gentlemanly.
IVI soldiers lead the way to the lobby doors. Two more men wait outside. Two Rolls Royce’s stand ready at the entrance each with a driver inside. A van with tinted windows is parked behind them. I’m going to guess more soldiers are inside, should they be needed.
“Sir, Mr. Blackstone,” Joe, the bellman starts. “Will you be—”
I stop walking sliding my hand into my jacket pocket for my wallet. The soldiers react instantly, every single one of them reaching for their concealed weapons, only standing down when their leader, the one at the doors, sees what I’m doing.
Slipping two hundred pounds out of my wallet, I fold the bills over and hand them to Joe. I squeeze his shoulder. “Thanks, Joe. See you next time we’re in town.”
“Sir, yes, of course. Have a, uh, pleasant day.”
I almost laugh. Taking Amal’s hand, I resume our march to the waiting vehicles. A soldier opens each of the back doors.
The one in charge gestures to two men who walk swiftly toward my brother and I.
I know what they want and hand one my Glock before he touches me.
It’s inappropriate to perform a full search here so I keep the smaller pistol I have strapped to my ankle.
It’s come in handy so many times. I’m sure as soon as they’re able, they’ll conduct a proper search and relieve me of it.
The man subtly tucks my gun into the waistband of his pants and reaches for Amal’s bag.
“I don’t have anything,” she tells him, holding onto the large bag with both hands. I am guessing her mother’s diary is in there.
The soldier turns to the man in charge who gives a small shake of his head. The man backs away.
I catch my brother’s eye because this is odd behavior. They must know it was Amal who sold the watch. I didn’t expect her to be treated with courtesy.
“Mr. Blackstone, you and your brother are here,” the one in charge says to my brother gesturing for the first car. “Ms. Lombardi, you’ll ride with me.” He gestures to the second vehicle.
“Like hell she will and when you address my wife, you’ll refer to her as Mrs. Blackstone,” I tell the asshole and shove past him toward the second vehicle, not letting go of Amal’s hand until we’re both in it and I’ve closed the door.
I watch Severin slide into the first vehicle, and a soldier gets into the passenger seat. The befuddled man I just told off regains his composure and walks around to get into the passenger seat of our car.
“Will your brother be okay?” Amal asks in a quiet whisper. In the rear-view mirror, I watch the men who disappear into the van behind us as the vehicles drive away from the hotel all in a nice military-like row.
“Sev can handle himself. Don’t worry about him.” I reach over her to pull her seatbelt across her lap and click it into place before doing the same with mine. I see how she clutches the bag to herself. “Diary?” I ask her.
She nods.
“Where are we going?” I ask the man in front.
He turns and smiles almost politely, setting one arm across the back of the bench-style front seat. He glances at Amal, then at me.
“We will drive to Glenrothes where we’ll take a flight to the Isle of Elysium.
It’s where The Society is headquartered in Scotland.
Well, we have smaller properties throughout each of the cities, of course, but Master Robertson resides on the island most months of the year.
He’s most curious to meet Mrs. Blackstone,” he says, making a point of using the name.
“And, of course, eager to speak with the Blackstone brothers.”
“I’m sure.” I sit back keeping Amal’s hand in mine as we drive out of the city to the private airport about forty minutes out of town. “My Glock?”
“It will be returned to you upon your departure from the island.”
I don’t stop to think about how we’ll be departing.
Once we arrive at the airport, we’re escorted into a luxurious private jet. Soldiers stand sentry as we take our seats.
The man in charge sits in a chair facing us. He has a grin on his face I’d really like to punch off.
“What’s your name and function?” Severin asks him with his usual authority. The Blackstone’s weren’t nobodies in The Society. At one point we had quite some clout, but that was a long time ago.
“I’m Jameson, personal assistant to Master Robertson.” He reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket and hands Severin a card. He’s not armed from what I can see but I’m sure if it came down to it, he could shoot to kill as easily and precisely as any of the other soldiers.
Sev takes his card, glances at it and sets it aside like he can’t even be bothered to tuck it into his pocket it’s so unimportant. Well done, brother.
“I’ll have a whiskey,” I tell Jameson. “Amal, darling, would you like something to drink?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
I see Jameson’s irritation a moment before that smile stretches across his ugly face again. He gestures to an attendant to get me a whiskey. She asks Severin if he’d like something, but Sev gives a dismissive shake of his head.
“Cheers,” I say, once I have a tumbler in hand. I raise my glass to no one in particular and sip the drink.
“Early for that, isn’t it?” Amal asks me quietly.
“I’m on Devil’s Peak time.”
Sev leans his chin on his hand and watches out the window. Amal and I do the same and just under an hour later, I see it. The island. A rock rising from the Atlantic, its cliffs beaten raw by centuries of salt and wind.
As we begin our descent, I see the marina and a handful of boats bobbing in the wild waters. Air and sea are the only way on or off the island. This might get tricky.
“The Isle of Elysium is a private island in the Outer Hebrides. It is only accessible by private plane or boat, as you can see. You’ll notice what was once a ruined castle The Society completely rebuilt over time.
We’ve been maintaining it over decades. Returning it to its former glory and more.
We’ve also built housing for those members who wish to reside upon the island either permanently or as respite from the dullness of pedestrian life.
” Jameson tells us, smiling proudly as if he built the place with his own two hands.
I admit though, the views are breathtaking with jagged cliffs and white sand beaches, the water shifting color as dark clouds give way to patches of bright sky and sunshine.
Water crashes against these rocks and it’s hard to believe this is the same water that I often watch from the windows of my own home.
“Do you live here?” Amal asks Jameson.
He smiles to her. “I live here when Master Robertson is here. I am at his disposal.”
I snort at that and exchange a glance with my brother. I’m sure Sev’s noted that it’s not a Councilor of the Tribunal who has summoned us, but a Master Robertson.
I’ve never been to Scotland. I’m not sure if Sev has. Our family was associated with the branch of The Society in New York. I’ve never heard the term Master used as a rank so I’m curious.
The landing is smooth and two Land Rovers are waiting to take us to the castle. No Rolls Royce’s here. The ground is too rough for that.
The plane touches down and the doors are opened. As I rise to my feet, I see the men standing beside the matte black vehicles, all with windows tinted black. Several soldiers exit first, followed by Jameson. I remain close to Amal as she descends, Sev after me.
The wind is immediate and wild. Gulls wheel overhead, the roar of the sea smashing itself against the island endless.
Rain is a drizzle but a glance at the clouds tells me it’s about to get worse.
Amal and I climb into one SUV and Severin rides with Jameson in the other.
As we begin our procession, that drizzle turns to slashing rain the sound unutterably loud.
Amal presses close to me. I glance at her, wrap an arm around her.
“It’s going to be all right.”
“There’s no way off the island, Jet. We can’t leave until they let us.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s a wrist slap they’re planning for the watch turning up like it did,” I say, but I’m not sure at all.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused.”
I squeeze her close. “You came with that trouble. I’ll take it. I’d choose it again in a heartbeat. Choose you again.”
Her eyes search mine and she smiles a weak smile.
Keeping her pressed to my side, I watch our route. Although the island appeared small from above, there’s an intricate infrastructure of roads and we drive toward the castle which stands at the island’s highest point.
Scattered across the land are the cottages.
They’re connected by both roads and footpaths cutting through jagged rock and heather fields.
The stone used for the walls is natural to the island and even though none would be considered big, I see how luxuriously built each is with rustic exteriors hiding the opulence within each making the most of the wild landscape.
Smoke rises out of many of the chimneys telling me most are occupied.
The weather changes by the minute as the driver navigates the winding road up to the castle.
About a mile from the building there are no more cottages, only rough land.
From here, connected to the main castle by a narrow road is a grim, circular structure built of a stone so dark that if you didn’t know it was there, you wouldn’t see it.
A twelve-foot-high wall topped with sharp iron spikes surrounds it.
A cloud seems to hang over top of it darker than the others, no breaks to let in even a little bit of sunshine there.
I know what it is. I’m sure Sev does too. Most of the Tribunal buildings of The Society are circular with a few exceptions. It is the courthouse of this branch of IVI. And beneath it would be the cells carved into the rock of the island.
Not much makes my blood run cold in this world. Not after the things I’ve endured. Things I’ve seen and done. But this? This black hole of a building? It has me hugging Amal a little closer as even she who doesn’t know its significance shudders.