Session 21 - Marcus's Journal

The morning was upon us, after a lengthy discussion it was decided that I would drive, Tom and Will would grab both Donovan Jnr and Alexi, we needed to know what was going on with them both, we could not take one without the other.  Frank would do his usual distraction routine with the nurses and Carter would be a lookout based on the layout of the hospital ward.

Before we did anything though, we would need a place to take the children, Frank left early stating that he would be back at the hospital by 8am, enough time to complete the acquisition of the property for the children.  Although late, our snatch and grab operation was underway.  I was the driver, having already been sighted by the nurses and the doctor in charge, my presence would do nothing but be a hinderance if I was discovered.  I dropped everyone off at the rear entrance to the hospital, the rear stairs having been identified as the easiest and quickest access point if things go wrong, Frank arrived in his own car and proceeded into the front of the hospital.  We were to meet at the boat I had secured after the deed so Frank could take the children and we could remain for our next step.

I waited for several minutes, Tom and Will both seemingly anxious, Carter however, far more so.  As the seconds ticked by on my watch, sweat began to flow from my brow, every movement on the hospital grounds making me flinch as I did not want to cause any unwanted attention.

Tome emerged first, a large bundle of sheets wrapped around what I could only assume was a child’s body over his shoulder, Will was directly behind him, holding a similarly wrapped bundle.  Carter then emerged also, his face nervous yet surprised, this seemed to go perfectly, strangely enough.

The children were silent, the drugs in their systems clearly acting as a powerful suppressant for any outbursts.  I drove as to not draw attention, the sweat starting to sting my eyes.  Arriving at the boat, it was some 20 minutes before Frank appeared, giving us time to see the children closely.  Alexi had strange bite marks all over his hands and arms, Donovan Jnr however was untouched, both groggy and confused, we chose to leave them in the car bundled in their sheets, the last thing we wanted was to alarm them and have them scream the docks down.

Frank quickly shuffled them into his car, Carter agreeing to contact him on the number he provided us with at 3am, enough time to have the talk we needed to with Donovan.

As we watched Frank drive off into the distance, there was nothing we could do, we returned to the hotel, coffee and breakfast seemed to be the best idea.  I took my leave and returned to my room to shower, the sweat that I had emitted leaving feeling clammy and smelling not much better.

It was mid-morning that Carter made the phone call to Donovan, his message was simple, Donovan and one man were to meet us on his boat at 10pm.  I wasn’t the fondest of this plan, we were essentially leaving Donovan all day to plan an assault on the boat we would be waiting on.  However Carter had a different notion in his head.  He believed that Donovan was looking for a way out, that he was not the same type of person that Brooks, Trammell and Echiavarria had been.

As night fell over the water, we used the boat I had acquired to ferry ourselves to the “elegance”, Donovan’s boat.  We kept the lights dim, we didn’t want to make it easy for anyone to see us and potentially have a shot at us.  After seeing the security at the warehouse, men with rifles who clearly knew how to use them, I didn’t want to take any chances.

It was close to 10pm when a small boat made its way across the water.  Two occupants within.

Will and Tom stood on the rear deck, all of us had no idea what to expect, we all had our pistols drawn.  The first man climbed aboard, his face clad in shadow in the moonlight, looking around at the four of us, Carter and I by the entrance to the cabin, Will and Tom standing on either side of the man, he motioned for Donovan to come up.  As Donovan climbed to ladder, the man opened his coat, revealing a revolver on his hip, he asked if we wanted to take it, looking at the four of us, we knew that he must be out of his mind if he thought he had any chance of using it effectively.  We decided to let him retain it.

Donovan emerged onto the deck, his eyes bouncing between all of us.  Carter ushered the two men inside the cabin, stating only that we needed to talk.

Sitting Donovan at the small table, Carter sat across from him, the other man who Donovan introduced as his security chief, Walter, sat on a lounge behind Donovan.  Walters eyes sizing up everyone in the room, reminding me of Frank in terms of his collected appearance even in a situation beyond his control, I believed he was not thinking about taking us by force, but merely how many of us he could take with him should things go wrong.

Donovan spoke as we knew he would, questions of money for the return of his son.  Carter cut through the opening financial remarks, despite Donovan’s mentioning that money was not a concern, giving off the vibe we both received from Janet.  Carter proceeded to explain the reason we had abducted his son.  The mouths, the nectar, how this could not continue.  Donovan was like a bucket of water full of holes, explaining that Echiavarria was before his time, he was originally aligned with Trammell, who had sent him to Malta.  The mouth that is here, under the warehouse was summoned by Donovan, just as Brooks had done in Mexico and Trammell had done in LA.  At the mention of this, Will took a particularly rough tone, cutting off the conversation to make his feelings known.  Tom however, never took his eyes off Walter, waiting for the faintest movement that would require a violent reaction.  The only movement coming from Walter when he leaned closer to Donovan and whispered, from what I could hear, he was suggesting Donovan tell us everything.

Donovan continued to explain the situation with his son, he had been sick for years, since the summoning of the mouth, the nectar however was not flowing as it did in the other locations we had been to.  The mouth, known to Donovan as “The Font” demanded a sacrifice.

As Donovan continued to explain, his face changed from anxiety to despair.  It was 1933 when Donovan made his sacrifice, he stood before the mouth with his wife and son, he had chosen to give the mouth is ill child, however when the time came, he could not do it, giving his wife instead.  From that day on, the nectar flowed.  It was not a sacrifice of money or power, but a personal, irreplaceable sacrifice that was required.
Donovan’s son however, remained ill, the mouth telling him what he should do to make is son better, the “treatment” coming from the mouth, the lies.

Donovan wants to be free of this curse he has found himself entangled in.  Carter and I both explained to him that keeping his son here is a mistake, he needs to be as far removed from the mouth as possible.

We turned the conversation in a new direction, how are we going to deal with the nectar and distribution here.  Donovan explained he is now little more than a name.  There are two people in direct control of the operation, a man, Victor Prescott and a woman Diana Hertz.  The two Tom had seen making deliveries.  They had about 30 people on their side, deliveries and production alike.  Donovan had little more than a handful of close protection and security.  However his name did still carry some weight at the factory.

We decided to make a deal with Donovan, we would allow him and his son to leave, alive, relocated to another part of the world, new names, new life, never to return to this again, the conditions being that he aid in our destruction of the warehouse and distribution here in Malta.  Donovan barely hesitated, he agreed without question.  The next conversation was how Walter and his men would take care of Prescott and Hertz, Donovan would then allow us access to the warehouse, doing everything we can to destroy what we found.  Then Donovan would be reunited with his son.

Will and I both shared the same curiosity about Walter, we decided that we would be present for the removal of Prescott and Hertz, just to make sure that they were not playing us.  Carter and Tom would stay on Donovan until we meet for our visit to the warehouse.

As the conversation came to a close, we took the contact numbers for Donovan and Walter, we would be following their every move, if anything didn’t feel right, we walk away and make our own plans.  I felt nothing but pity for Donovan, yes, he had brought this evil into the world here, but he has experience more loss than I imagined possible for a man living the high life.  He was still a man, despite his wrong doings, could he in fact be saved.

We made our way back to the hotel around midnight, Carter turning to drink, Tom to opium, Will to his frustrations, grumbling to himself about not being certain we could trust these men.  I however simply continued my studies, searching my bible for passages to make me feel better about salvation rather than condemnation.

The morning arrived, sunlight piercing through the slightly opened curtains.  Carter was still fast asleep, his snores echoing through the thin walls.  Tom caught my eye, telling me that Frank is expecting us this evening with Donovan, after everything is done here.

After a good breakfast and some more light reading of several books from the SS library, Will and I sat in the car outside the pusher’s house where Tom had followed him to in the last few days.  It wasn’t long before the familiar face of Walter exited a car a little further up the road, two of his men with him.  They branched out across the road like limbs of a spider, one man sitting in a café across the road, the other moving the car down the road and out of sight, Walter himself entering the house and closing the door behind him.

After another 15 minutes, another car arrived, Prescott and Hertz.  As Prescott removed a crate from the trunk, the car with Walter’s man appeared back on the street, widows down, a hail of bullets from a tommy gun shattering the peaceful street and slamming into Prescott’s torso, sending him to his haunches.  The man sitting in the café also sprung to life, advancing on the car and emptying the magazine from what looked like a broom-handle Mauser pistol into the driver.  Prescott rose to his feet again, his body leaking blood everywhere, turning to face the car he drew his pistol and began raising it at the man who had crossed from the Café.  As he did so, the door of the house opened to reveal Walter who let a blast from a shotgun tear into the back of Prescott’s skull.

Within moments everything was done, bodies thrown in the trunk, the only evidence, blood stains of the pavement and brass in the gutter.  Watching this violence unfold, Will had a slight look of satisfaction on his face, as though he secretly enjoyed watching a gangster film unfold in front of his eyes.  All I could do was pray silently in my head, these may have been bad people, but did they deserve death.

Will took the wheel as I managed to doze off for a little while, my heart racing after the bloody scene, I needed a break.  Waking in the car, we were already on our way to the Warehouse, Will had spoken to Walter who in turn had arranged with Donovan for us to be allowed inside.  Meeting with Carter, Tom, Walter and Donovan at the gate, we made our way inside across the stepping stones, being warned not to step on the grass as it is full of mouths.

Once inside, Donovan called everyone to attention, all the workers and security.  Announcing that they are shutting down due to unfortunate events, Donovan dumping a large bag of money on the central table.  Explaining that this was to keep them going until work started up again but with no estimated commencement time.  After a slight ruckus, Walter shot one of the ringleaders of the dispute, after that, everyone took a handful of money and exited the building.

We had free reign over the building, Walter left us to wander.  Upstairs offices, downstairs tunnels, it was going to take a while.  Splitting up we all traversed numerous caverns and tunnels discovering ledgers of production and assorted notes.  After roaming the tunnels for some time, we came across a small office.  Donovan’s office, on the desk, something that was strangely familiar, a spell of sorts, a spell to open the sky, only unlike the one I had previously memorised this was more intense, more powerful, something to reveal a far deeper meaning.  Next to the spell, a letter from Brooks, requesting from Donovan of all things, to open the way to the Maw.

Another search of the tunnels revealed a temporary wall of timber and nails, from under the door, flowing across the tunnel floor and disappearing behind another door, nectar, rich, orange nectar.  We knew where it came from and against our desires, we decided not to open the door, we had seen a mouth before, something we all wish we hadn’t.

We left the Warehouse, all convinced that this place was going to require attention. But how, in the middle of an industrial area, we couldn’t just burn it down.  We watches as Walter and Donovan locked the gates and drove away behind us.

Carter took his leave of us, opting to make is way to the location Frank had given us of where to find the children.  He was to pick up Donovan and continue with the deal we had made.  Asking us to meet him there, Carter disappeared into the evening air.  Tom, Will and I all packed our belongings, taking the time to make sure we hadn’t missed anything.

The directions we had been given were vague at best, an address in a distant suburb.  It took some time but we managed to get there without getting too lost.

We entered the house to see the two children sitting on a lounge in the living room, Donovan sitting next to his son, holding his hand.  One of Donovan’s men standing close by, not Walter, but someone as equally imposing.  Carter also leaned against a door frame, breathing heavily, there was no sign of Frank.  Had we just missed him? What was going on.