Meera drove them back through the city center as the sun set, leaving the greater downtown area toward the shoreline. Tall, modern buildings gave way to the city’s port where meatpacking facilities, vast warehouses, and marketplaces fought for space by the shipyards and docks. Gargantuan container vessels loomed large, tall cranes hoisting thick nets of crates from their hulls, lowering the cargo to the ground, workers eager to pull it to pieces and scurry off.

  Guided by Betty and her map, Meera turned off the crowded streets, away from the noise and hustle of the port, and headed down narrow roads, leaving the industry of commerce. They drove on old roads through a forest, unblemished by the city’s expansion. In the distance, a lighthouse peeked into view, sitting atop a tall hill Erika hadn’t noticed before. Given its proximity to the bay, it must have been at a cliff’s edge. The sun had just descended enough for the tower’s beam to soar vividly through the ocean air.

  “That’s Guff?” Erika asked.

  “Must be,” Meera nodded.

  The narrow road rose steeply up the hill, bringing them high above the bay. The lighthouse looked centuries old yet well maintained. Beside it was a small parking area with only a dozen cars. Meera pulled in, turned off the engine and the women exited, Erika still holding tight to the briefcase. They walked around front, to a cobblestone pathway that extended from the roundabout driveway to the entrance of the club. Betty and Erika ignored the building, drawn to the astonishing view. They stood only yards away from the edge of the cliff, the port before them, ships of all sizes coming and going, the city and its soaring buildings penetrating the sky and far beyond, to regions less infringed by civilization.

  “Can’t beat the view,” Erika said to her roommate coyly.

  “Yeah. Worth getting shot at,” Betty replied wryly.

  Meera was less interested. “Come on,” she insisted, and the two women joined her as they approached the front of the building. The entrance was a simple door, painted black, with a wooden sign above it that read “Guff” in white lettering. The building wasn’t very large, with the lighthouse further back and a chimney at the rear, smoke trailing off into the sky. There was a button beside the entrance. Meera pressed it and waited impatiently.

  A few moments later, an exceptionally tall, strapping yet attractive woman emerged. She had a long red braid down her back, dressed in a three-piece suit, collar unbuttoned.

  The woman’s size caught Meera, already a petite woman, off guard. After a second’s hesitation she asked, “We’re here to ask some questions.”

  The buff woman gazed down at her, her red hair catching the light, well-tailored suit hinting at her impressive musculature. She spoke in a firm voice. “Sorry. Invitation only.”

  “The questions are about one of those invited, who has gone missing,” Meera’s tone was edging on accusatory.

  The fit woman looked over the trio. “You’re not the police. Obviously.” She looked at Erika, then Betty a moment longer, and asked, “What’s their name?”

  “Max Everhart!” Erika answered eagerly.

  “Max?” The woman’s tone changed.

  “He’s my brother,” Erika added, hurrying up to stand before her, shouldering Meera aside.

  “Your brother? You’re Erika?” the woman brightened.

  “Why yes,” Erika said, taken aback. “That’s me.”

  “I’m Margaret.” She extended her hand, and they shook.

  “Lovely to meet you,” Erika said, putting her other hand atop Margaret’s. “You’re friends with him?”

  “Something like that.” She said bashfully. “Max helped me out. You said he’s missing?” Her expression turned to genuine concern.

  “Yes, I’m afraid, and this woman’s husband as well. They were here together before they disappeared.”

  Meera interjected, “My husband’s name is Ravi. He’s Indian, like me. It was four days ago.”

  Erika heard a waver in her voice. The first hint of emotion from the hard woman.

  Margaret nodded. “Four days ago.” She thought for a moment. “Yeah, I remember. Max and a friend.”

  “Do you know whether they met anyone here?” Meera pressed.

  “No, I don’t think so. But they left separately. Max wasn’t here long, but your husband, he left a while later. A car came for him, a very nice one. He hopped in, and it took off in a hurry.”

  “Could it have been a taxi service?”

  Margaret shook her head. “No ordinary service. It was a Mercedes-Benz one-seventy. That’s a nice car.”

  Meera exhaled in dissatisfaction.

  “Why don’t you come inside?” Margaret woman offered. “I’m sure the Lady could be more helpful.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Erika said with relief.

  “The lady?” Betty asked, joining the conversation.

  “The owner,” Margaret responded, looking over the young doctor-to-be and smiling. Moving aside, she pulled open the entrance for the women. Erika walked in first, followed by Meera, with Betty lagging as she ogled the redhead. Her bravado and disregard of rote femininity impressed her. Patting her on the arm, feeling the firm muscle underneath, Betty said, “Thanks, Margaret”. Perhaps a respite here would calm her nerves and set them on a safer path.

  Passing through the doorway, Erika felt like she was stepping into another realm. It was old and well-traveled, the interior unpainted, built with heavy wood smoothed by touch and wear. Gas lamps fixed to the walls and thick beams, casting warm light. A large roaring fireplace at the back of the rectangular room provided heat.

  Along the right wall, a modest bar extended for about twenty feet, half the length of the room, with a largely hidden kitchen adjacent, an opening for passing orders at the end of the bar. Only about a third of the stools were occupied. One man tended, dressed in a sharp white button-up shirt, hair combed and slicked neatly.

  To the left was a series of four leather booths opposite the bar. The back half of the room comprised a scattering of tables, sparsely populated, with a couch further back, flanked by a set of parlor chairs in front of the fireplace. Books filled shelves on either side, along with a painting Erika couldn’t quite make out above the mantel, partially blocked by a tall, thin woman, whom she immediately sensed was the owner. The so-called Lady.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  She was thin, pale, dressed in a black gown, with brunette hair arranged into a patterned bun at the back of her head. As Margaret shut the door, the woman turned and sauntered toward them, as if summoned, moving with an unnatural grace. Her slim arms half bent, hands open outward, her wide mouth moving into a smile as her large, gray eyes grew brighter in the light. As she came closer, Erika realized her remarkable height, even compared to Margaret. She was young, appearing to be in her thirties, but she had an air of aged maturity and experience.

  “Good evening,” the Lady said in a deep, soothing voice.

  “Hi,” Erika uttered. The woman looked like no one she had ever seen before, but was altogether beautiful in a majestic, enigmatic way.

  Meera silently took measure of the woman. Her first concern was whether this was an ally or an enemy. But she couldn’t tell; she appeared more like a sculpture of a person than someone real.

  Betty took the lead. “Good evening, ma’am. We’re looking for two men who were here four days ago. Max Everhart and Ravi…” she looked to Meera.

  “Sharma.”

  Margaret stepped forward and interjected, “Lady, this is Max’s sister.”

  “Erika.” The tall woman said. Her eyes softened, and she seemed to admire the brunette for a few seconds. Silence lingered, no one speaking. The background noise of the restaurant seemed to fade away as she stared at her. Then the woman continued, “Yes, I believe Leonard may be of some service.”

  “Thank you…” Erika spoke quietly, disarmed by the woman’s gaze.

  Margaret put his hand on Erika’s upper back and reassured her, “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” She then moved past, returning to her duties.

  “Leonard,” the tall woman said, her voice never rising, but somehow clear over the many other conversations filling the room. “This is Max’s sister and her friends. Please help them in any way.”

  “Yes, Lady,” he responded with a sharp nod of his head.

  She pivoted and walked away. The three young women watched her go with curiosity as she headed to the back of the restaurant and through a doorway to the left of the fireplace, to where the lighthouse would be.

  “She’s… interesting,” Betty remarked.

  The trio took seats at the bar as Leonard waited for them to get comfortable.

  “Call me Lenny. Get you all something to drink first? On the house.”

  Erika started, “Nothing for me, thank-”

  Betty interrupted, “Bourbon, please.”

  “Gin, double,” Meera added.

  “Of course.” Lenny poured a glass of water for Erika first and set the glass. Erika took a sip that turned into a series of gulps as he made the drinks for Betty and Meera.

  “Thank you,” Betty said gratefully.

  Meera grabbed hers and finished it in one swig. Lenny paused before her as she set the empty glass down, expecting another order. Instead, she launched her inquiry. “My husband was here with Max Everhart four days ago.”

  The man nodded. “Sure, I remember. Max is a regular. Doesn’t usually sit at the bar though. Never met his friend before, your husband.”

  Meera nodded. “Did they meet with anyone else?”

  Lenny thought and shook his head. “No, it was just the two of them.”

  “Did you overhear anything? Anything stand out to you?” Meera pressed.

  “They wanted their privacy.” Lenny took her glass, rinsed and started cleaning it with a white cloth. “Sat at the end, by the door. So, I left them to it. Your husband, he had a briefcase. Kept it in his lap the whole time, so it must have been important.”

  “Was it this one?” Erika asked, pulling up the case she’d been lugging around.

  “Yeah, could be.” Lenny put away the clean glass and tossed the cloth over his shoulder. “There was tension. They were both nervous about something.”

  “Margaret said they left separately?” Erika noted.

  Lenny nodded. “Yeah, Max first. His friend, it was a while later… an hour, maybe. He moved to one of the tables in the back. Whenever he left, he marched out of here in a hurry.”

  “What about the briefcase? Did Ravi leave with it?” Meera asked.

  Lenny paused and thought for a moment. “I’m sorry. Don’t know. Once he left the bar, I lost track. Sorry.”

  Erika looked to Betty, who shrugged. Meera was deep in thought.

  Erika said, “Thanks, Lenny. I think we’ll get a table for a bit if that’s alright.”

  “Of course. You ladies hungry?”

  “Yes,” Erika and Betty said eagerly.

  “I’ll take care of it. Go get comfortable.”

  “You’re a gem,” Erika replied, and the three women moved to the rear of the restaurant, to a table away from other patrons. Erika set the briefcase on an empty seat beside her.

  “Okay, toots,” Betty said to Meera, “What’s going on here?”

  Meera leaned back in her chair, looking back and forth at the two women, as if making one last judgement call before sharing any more information. “Erika, you’ve never heard of my husband before? Max never mentioned an Indian friend?”

  Erika shook her head. “No. Max and I don’t talk very often.”

  “Ravi and Max are friends from the war. But Ravi wasn’t a soldier. He was a scientist. Captured by the Nazis and put to work on one of their secret projects. In Tunisia.”

  “Max fought in Tunisia,” Erika commented. “That’s where he was injured.”

  “He got that injury saving Ravi. Or Ravi saving him, depends on who you ask,” she let out a little laugh. “Max never told you the story of how it happened?”

  Erika shook her head. “He’s told me almost nothing about the war.”

  “Oh.” Meera paused. “Max came to the site where Ravi was working. But he didn’t come to get him. He was there for your father.”

  Erika’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

  “Your father was heading up the project there, for the Nazis. Ravi was his assistant.”

  “Max saw our father…” Erika was in shock. “He never told me.”

  “Your father didn’t make it out,” Meera continued, trying to be delicate. “But Max and Ravi got away.”

  Erika’s mind was reeling. She put her head in her hands on the table. “I’m sorry. This is…”

  Betty put her hand on her roommate’s shoulder. “Just take a breath.” Looking at Meera, she asked, “What do you mean ‘make it out’? What happened?”

  “There was a cavern, an underground chamber with ancient ruins. They found something in it. Erika’s father, Werner, was researching it before the Nazis took it over.”

  “Ruins?” Erika looked confused. “My father studied biochemistry.”

  “It wasn’t the ruins. There was something alive in there.”

  Betty cocked an eyebrow. “A mummy?” she snorted.

  “Don’t be childish. It was primordial. Ravi described it as like a plant, but made of tissue, like an animal.”

  “Tissue? Like… flesh?” Erika asked.

  “Something like that. The cavern was enormous; they called it the Hall. Your father had been in contact with your brother. He was worried about what they had discovered. Ravi said it could create viruses, terribly deadly viruses. Your father wanted it all destroyed. The entire place. But he needed help. That’s where your brother came in.”