1
Moving Violations
New York
Her name was Ethel Marion. Most just called her E for short, which was
okay with her since she hated the name in the first place. She had been named after her grandmother who
had, according to all the accounts, been a wonderful woman.
She had been a wonderful woman with a crappy name.
Ethel was a 28 year-old, curvaceous woman with short, blond
hair. She currently sat with near
perfect posture in the chair in her boss’s office awaiting his return.
She wasn’t sure why she was doing the waiting since he had
called her but nonetheless, that’s the way it was playing out. She ran a hand through her layered and parted
hair as she waited. She was dressed well,
albeit casual, in jeans and a nice sweater top. She wasn’t sure why she was in the office. Her boss rarely doled out jobs personally, and
to the best of her knowledge she hadn’t done anything wrong.
Had she?
Her boss entered the room, finally. She sat up straighter somehow as her rather middle
aged and overweight supervisor, Dan, sat down behind his desk across from her.
“How you doing today,
E?” Dan asked as he placed a file he was
holding down on the desk in front of him.
Ethel raised her eyebrow. “I’m not sure, sir. How am I doing?”
Dan smiled. “You’re
not in trouble E, at least not in the way that you thought.”
E was curious now. “What do you need, sir.”
“I have a job for you.” He said, opening the file in front of him.
Ethel was confused. “I don’t understand sir, why didn’t you just
e-mail it to me?”
He smiled again. “Not
that kind of file.”
****
Mongolia
The dining car was full to the brim at noon. People were eating, drinking and
laughing. They felt the train’s slight
jostle as it bristled down the tracks across northern Mongolia toward Russia.
It was a long car with plenty of tables and a small bar in
the far corner. The bartender was the
only American working on the car. Currently every one sitting had a drink and
was eating their food so he was cleaning glasses in the small sink.
The door to First Class slid open and a scary looking
Mongolian with a deep scar on his cheek and a bald head walked through. He was wearing a nice, casual black blazer and
black Dockers.
He was holding a small, evil-looking machine gun in his
right hand.
The entire dining car seemed to freeze and stare at him. Behind him two other men of Mongolian descent
dragged another American into the room.
These two Mongolians were very different. They were all muscle on top of muscle almost
exploding out of their suits.
“The dining car is now closed.” The scarred Mongolian said, just loud enough
to be heard.
In the next couple of seconds the car cleared out the opposite
door in at a hurried speed. The bartender
was the last to move but the Mongolian pointed at him with the gun. “You stay.”
The bartender stopped and looked nervously at the gun.
“Make me a Long Island iced tea.” The Mongolian said with a heavy accent.
The bartender raised an eyebrow.
Laughter exploded throughout the room.
It was coming from the other American being held by the
large and frightening Mongolians.
The prisoner was five feet ten inches and stringy. He had thin arms and legs but with a baby
face and hair that would have been well kept had it not been for his escort.
The Mongolian turned his attention back to his prisoner. “Something funny, Sam?”
“A Long Island iced tea?!” He asked rhetorically. “You are a gun-running, drug-dealing
warlord. Have some self respect!”
The Mongolian frowned. “Sit him down,” he ordered his men then turned
back to the well built bartender. “Make
the drink.”
The bartender nodded then moved behind the bar and began to
make the drink.
****
New York
“What kind of job is it?” E asked, feeling as though she was
being lead to something that her boss didn’t want to say out load.
He took a deep breath. “It’s the Bier, file.”
Ethel’s eyebrows went up. “The Bier
file?”
Dan nodded. “So you’ve
heard of it?”
She shrugged. “Of
course, they have been through six of our people in two years. Everyone says they can’t work with them.”
Dan watched her reactions. “Do you know why?”
“Rumors.” She began
and could tell that Dan wanted to hear what she thought. “Well it’s two brothers, Sam and Karl Bier. Sam is the older and he’s adopted, while Karl
is natural born. Both are the heirs to the
Bier fortune and primary stockholders after their parents died in a plane
crash. Other than that, I have only
heard gossip, stuff like they are thrill seekers, constantly putting themselves
in danger and bringing their translators along for the ride.”
Dan worked his head back and forth. “That is the gist of it, I suppose.”
“So I have to ask sir, why give this to anyone? Six translators have quit on them in two
years. You should send them somewhere
else.”
Dan frowned. “I was
their parents’ translator, E. It’s
personal.”
E was taken back. Now
she understood. This was less a job and
more of a personal favor.
“I see,” E said. “So
what’s the full story?”
****
Mongolia
The Mongolians sat Sam down into one of the chairs that was bolted
to the floor. He again looked down at
his hands, cuffed in front of him, and frowned.
“Come on Hoi, can’t we talk about this?” Sam asked, knowing
the answer.
The scarred Mongolian called Hoi smiled. “Well of course, that’s exactly why I brought
you here. To talk.”
Hoi pulled a piece of gold out of his pocket. It was cut in a weird cross shape with a
circle at the top. He dropped it on the
table in front of Sam, who stared.
“My men said they found you with this.” Hoi began. “So you broke into my safe box that was filled
with cash and jewels and you tried to steal this?”
Sam shrugged. “What
can I say? It just called to me.”
One of the big Mongolians slammed his face into the table in
front of him. Sam yelped in a wimpy
manner then grabbed his head. “Jesus
Christ!”
“What is it Sam?” Hoi asked again and Sam’s frown turned
into a smile.
“Okay. I’ll tell
you.”
****
New York
“Their parents started the Bier Brewing Company,” Dan began
to explain, “which has since catapulted to one of America’s top ten breweries. The Biers didn’t think they could get pregnant
so they adopted Samuel Bier. That year,
they conceived Karl. The two kids grew
up the same but were very different.”
E found herself leaning forward, enthralled with the story.
“Sam, the adopted one, dropped out of high school, but not
before being diagnosed with A.D.D. and barely got his G.E.D. Despite this, he
is an amazing researcher. I’ve seen him
in action.”
****
Mongolia
“That, my scary Mongolian friend is an Ankh,” Sam began, “which
is a symbol from after life that varied throughout the Egyptian Dynasties.”
Hoi raised an eyebrow. “This is Egyptian?”
Sam shook his head. “No, of course not. Egypt is an Arabic nation. The Mongolian school system isn’t much for
history, is it?”
Hoi frowned. “I
wasn’t privileged enough to go to school.”
Sam nodded, “That explains a lot. That is ancient Egyptian, back when they had
a lot of very wrathful Gods. But that
particular piece is related directly to Osiris. He was a God of Agriculture and the
Underworld.”
Hoi was confused. “So
it’s worth a lot.”
Sam looked hurt. “Of
course it is! Millions, if you could
find the right buyer, but it has another use too. It can also show the way to an even bigger
treasure.”
Hoi grinned. “Really?”
Sam grinned back. “Oh
yeah…”
****
New York
“Of course, Sam has plenty of other flaws too.” Dan Continued. “He’s a drunk and a womanizer.”
E Shrugged. “And Karl?”
Dan smiled. “Karl’s
different… Very different. Joined the
National Guard right out of high school, not that he needed the money for school
but because he wanted the experience. He’s an expert marksman and a black belt in
three different Martial Arts. He joined the F.B.I. after his service and was on
the fast track until his parents died. He quit to manage the business, as well as his
brother Sam.”
Ethel raised her eyebrow. “Sam needs constant supervision?”
Dan grunted. “You ask me, Sam needs a straight jacket,”
****
Mongolia
Hoi chuckled. “You
know you are an idiot, right?”
Sam grinned. “I am?”
“I mean you told me all of this. I have no reason not to kill you now.” Hoi
stated smiling, showing his very tattered and rotting teeth.
Sam shrugged. “Maybe
so, but you have failed to realize something, other than how to floss.”
Hoi frowned at the comment on his teeth and closed his mouth.
“What’s that, American?”
Hoi raised the machine gun to Sam’s forehead.
Sam just smiled. “My
brother.”
Hoi frowned, hesitating to take the shot confused at the
comment.
“Long Island iced tea, sir.” The bartender’s voice made Hoi
turn.
The bartender slammed the glass of alcohol into the Mongolian’s
faces, shattering it and showering him with Long Island iced tea.
Hoi rocked backward falling out of his chair and as he did
the bartender grabbed the machine gun and slipped it out of Hoi’s hands, effortlessly.
He swung it back around and slammed the butt of the gun into
one of the muscle men. Blood sprayed from the big man’s nose as he went
crashing through a table and some chairs.
The bartender raised the machine gun to the remaining muscle
bound man’s face. “Don’t.”
The man stopped in his tracks.
Sam smiled and picked up the Ankh. He stood and turned to the bartender. “What took you so long, Karl?”
Karl shrugged never taking his eyes off of the large
Mongolian who was still standing. “I was
enjoying watching them slam your head into the table.”
Sam frowned. “You’re
hilarious.”
Karl grinned slightly. “I think so.”
They moved slowly circling the Mongolian’s heading the
around toward the door they came in.
“It took longer than I thought. You think the chopper is still there?” Sam asked.
“Longer than you thought? You said this was in and out.” Karl accused.
“You know, Karl, that’s the best thing about life…” Sam said
as he moved to the emergency stop.
Hoi pulled himself off the floor trying to shake off the
damage he had taken. Little pieces of
glass stuck out of his face. He then
proceeded to scream angry orders in Mongolian.
Karl grabbed the handle of the door, dropping the gun.
The big man charged.
“…The surprises.” Sam finished, then wiggled his eyebrows
and pulled the emergency stop lever.
The train lurched suddenly with a deafening squeal. Hoi and his muscle had their backs to the
front of the train and when it stopped the two were hurled backward the length
of the car and sent crashing into the tables and chairs.
****
New York
Dan finished and E
stared at him, confused. “So they are
like treasure hunters in their spare time?”
Dan shrugged. “It’s
somewhat of a hobby, but they don’t hunt just any type of artifacts.”
Ethel looked really confused. “What kind of artifacts do they look for?”
Dan looked embarrassed. “Well… Their
parents didn’t just own and start the Bier Company. They loved beer. They loved it in all forms. Sam and Karl were brewing when they were
twelve. The interest in beer is in their
blood.”
“So?” E asked hoping to force him to finish the answer.
Dan took a deep breath. “They look for artifacts pertaining to beer.”
Ethel blinked. “They
are beer treasure hunters?”
****
Mongolia
They exited the back of the train to see the helicopter
hovering down to pick them up.
“So you are sure this is the key?” Karl asked loudly over
the rotors.
Sam shook his head. “Not the Key… it’s the map to the Cup of
Osiris!”
TO BE CONTINUED…
