The Adventures of Emily Tual Book One
Chapter Thirteen

In Bastet’s suite, Bastet was in her armchair surrounded by the Man with the German Accent’s men. They all had their guns pointed at her. They had broken in just mere minutes before, killed Bastet’s limo driver and had surrounded her quickly. Bastet would have fought back but she knew that there were a lot more men taking control of each floor below them. They were no doubt flushing out any Black Hand that worked for Bastet. Bastet knew that this was because of her ordering her allies to wipe out the Chosen One. She knew that if she was to try to call any of her allies who had worked with her on trying to kill the Chosen One, she’d either get their voice mail or other Black Hands who would say they were dead.

Bastet knew that she should have left as quickly as she could when she had discovered that the book had gone missing. Maybe then she would have been able to see if the Chosen One was indeed dead before disappearing to taunt the Man with the German Accent later on. Instead, she had decided to carry on as if nothing was wrong. She wished that these men would fear her but she knew who they were. The Man with the German Accent only took terrifying, scary, ruthless and heartless men to be his guards. She had a feeling that if she looked into their pasts, she would replace that they’ve accumulated more deaths than any other Black Hand in any Circle.

One of the men held a finger to his earpiece. “Yes Sir.” He said after a little bit. He turned to the other men. “He’s coming up.” He said. Bastet didn’t hear any emotion in his voice. He must have been one of the most dangerous men who served the Man with the German Accent. He looked down at Bastet and smiled. “Let’s see if this cat has nine lives.” He said, making a few of his men laugh. “She’ll need all of them.” Bastet glared at him but didn’t say anything.

After a few agonizing minutes, the doors to her suite opened. More men with guns came marching in. They were followed by The Man with the German Accent. More men followed him. The Man with the German Accent didn’t look happy. “You have quite a few soldiers here.” Bastet remarked.

The Man with the German Accent glared at her. “What do you expect?” He asked. “After hearing how you tried to ruin not only my plans but his plans as well, I couldn’t take a chance that you were plotting a rebellion against the rest of the Circles or trying to take control of the rest of us.”

He looked at the dead limo driver for a second but didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked back at Bastet. “Did you really think I wouldn’t replace out what you were trying to do?” He asked. He sounded betrayed but Bastet knew it was an act. “I have spies in every Circle of the Black Hand in this country and even more in every other country.” He told her. “I would have found out sooner or later. I’m just glad that someone, most likely Gabriel, was able to foil your plans and save the chosen one.”

He sat down and sighed, looking at Bastet for a few minutes. Bastet was wondering what he was thinking. The Man with the German Accent was impossible to read at times. Now was one of those times. “What were you thinking?” He asked her. “What could possibly compel you to betray him by doing this?” He snapped his fingers and one of his men came forward. This man didn’t have a gun. He had a briefcase. He opened it and gave the Man with the German Accent several pictures. The Man with the German Accent turned the pictures to Bastet and showed her each one. There was one of Eliza and Cliff dead. Another one was of Johnny and half of his gang. It looked like they had all been shot down from their motorcycles. One was of the men that had been in jail for just a couple of days before being released. In each of the pictures that the Man with the German Accent showed Bastet, Bastet saw those who had helped her with trying to get rid of the Chosen One.

The Man with the German Accent returned the pictures to the Black Hand with the briefcase. “Fifty Black Hands are dead because they listened to you.” He said in a dangerous voice.

Bastet looked at him. “They died trying to serve the Black Hand in the ultimate way.” She told him. “By trying to get rid of the Chosen One.”

The Man with the German Accent raised his cane up and the head of it glowed green. “That was not up to you to decide.” He told her. “He specifically wanted her to live until the day of the ritual where she would then be sacrificed for him to be able to return.”

Bastet shook her head. She was trying not to look scared but she knew that she was failing with that. The Man with the German Accent might be the one that she hated the most but there were times when he terrified her greatly. The Man with the German Accent pressed the head of his cane against her cheek. Bastet hissed in pain as she felt it burn her. The Man with the German Accent held his cane against her cheek for another minute before he pulled it back.

Bastet wanted to feel her cheek burn and try to heal it but she knew that if she did that, the Man with the German Accent would do worst to her. “Now then Bastet.” He said. “Are you going to try anything like this again?”

Bastet glared at him. “No.” She said through clenched teeth. Any fear she had of him was instantly replaced by loathing.

The Man with the German Accent stared at her for a minute. No doubt he was trying to sense if she was lying or not. “Despite you being in the third Circle, you have given him great service several times. You have done stuff that not even other members of the first Circle would do.” He told her. Bastet knew that he was saying that she would never be as important as him.

The Man with the German Accent stood up. “I was ordered to make you suffer more.” He told Bastet. “However I think you’ve been punished enough. What with your burn and those nasty bruises you have.”

Bastet frowned. “What bruises?” She asked. “You only burned me.”

The Man with the German Accent smiled wickedly. “You’ll have bruises by the time my men are done.” He told her. He turned to the one with the earpiece. “Make sure that she’s bruised up before you leave.” He ordered. “I want her to be used as an example for everyone else who would dare risk his plans.” The Black Hand nodded and turned to Bastet.

Bastet watched as the Man with the German Accent left with nearly all of his men. Only five remained. One of them was the Black Hand with the earpiece. He turned to his men. “You heard the boss.” He said. “He wants her to be used as an example.” Without warning, he punched Bastet. “So let’s bruise this kitty cat so she has to use some of her nine lives.” The five started beating her.

As the Man with the German Accent and his men were leaving, the Man with the German Accent was giving his men orders. “I want this building put under constant surveillance at all times. I want some of my own Black Hands stationed on each floor. Everything that happens in that building is to be reported to me.” He went up to his sedan. There were black SUVs in front of it and behind it. Most of his men got into the SUVs. A few of them had gone back into the building. The Man with the German Accent got into the backseat of his sedan. “Drive me to my manor.” He ordered his driver.

The Man with the German Accent looked out his window. He could see the number of people who were looking, pointing at his sedan and talking. He looked at his driver. “And call the police officers who are loyal to us. Make sure that they keep the rest of their stations from coming here in case Bastet tries to sell us out.” The driver nodded. The Man with the German Accent went back to looking out the window. All of those people there had no idea what they were in for come the day of the ritual.

His sedan stopped. The passenger door across from him opened and Agent Simmons got in quickly. “She doesn’t know anything about us.” He told the Man with the German Accent.

The Man with the German Accent looked at Agent Simmons. “That’s good.” He said. “Was there any sign of Gabriel or his allies near her when you talked to her?”

Agent Simmons shook his head. “I had some of my guys look around the room and the hallway for anyone suspicious or unusual.” He replied. “They didn’t see Gabriel or any of his friends.”

The Man with the German Accent smiled. “Excellent.” He said. The sedan started up and continued driving.

Agent Simmons took out a file and gave it to the man with the German accent. “Either the staff at that hospital are really good at fixing people up or Bastet’s goons didn’t do a good enough job with hurting the kid.” The Man with the German Accent frowned and opened the file. There were pictures of Emily in them. “For a child who was supposed to be beaten up badly, she looks like she’ll be out of there in just mere days.” Agent Simmons continued.

The Man with the German Accent looked at the pictures. Agent Simmons was right. Emily looked way too healthy and not in any pain. He looked at Agent Simmons. “How long was she there by the time you got there?” He asked.

Agent Simmons looked at his notes. “Four days.” He answered.

The Man with the German Accent looked back at the pictures of Emily. “She looks way too recovered for just four days of normal medical surgery. “Are you sure that there was no one else there from Gabriel?” He asked.

Agent Simmons nodded. “There was no sign of his two assistants even though I’m pretty sure that they’re the ones who brought her in four days ago.”

The Man with the German Accent set the pictures down and closed the file. “Pretty sure?” He asked.

Agent Simmons nodded. “I tried to get the receptionist and the head of security to bring up the security footage but when they looked for it, it had all gotten erased.”

The Man with the German Accent punched Agent Simmons in the face before whacking him with his cane. “You idiot!” He shouted. “If the footage showing who brought the chosen one in was erased, then it clearly means that Gabriel’s assistants were the ones who brought the girl into the hospital!” Was Agent Simmons as stupid as Bastet? The sedan stopped again. The Man with the German Accent pointed his cane at the door next to Agent Simmons. The door opened on its own. “Now get out of here!” He ordered. Agent Simmons, holding his right cheek, looked at the Man with the German Accent before he got out.

The Man with the German Accent looked at him. “Just continue acting like a normal F.B.I. agent.” He ordered. “And don’t tell anyone who gave you that.” He continued, pointing at the bruise already appearing on Agent Simmons’s face. “If anyone asks, just tell them that you got into a scuffle with a drunken idiot outside a bar.” With that, the Man with the German Accent’s sedan drove away with its escort.

Agent Simmons watched the convoy leave before he took his phone out. He dialed the same number as from before and held the phone up to his ear. “The Man with the German Accent and I just spoke.” He said once the person on the other end picked up. “You were right. He believes that Gabriel or his assistants tampered with the footage of who brought the chosen one in.” There was a pause on his end as he listened to the person on the other end. “Are you sure?” He then asked. “Very well. I’ll make sure I’m there to see how this plays out.” With that, he hung up and pocketed his phone before walking away.