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Minnesota Moore and the Emperors' Treasure
- Thread starter Praefectus Praetorio
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Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
It seems Barbara is good at getting herself into these situations. Maybe Messaline will be good at getting out?
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 38 April 23, 2019 The Real Torture Begins
Ten minutes of the canes pounding into their breasts reduced the girls to screaming, thrashing wild women, tugging hopelessly against their bonds. Their tits were bruised and welted, the nipples swollen and cut, blood running down the undersides and onto their stomachs. After what seemed an eternity to the tortured girls, the men finally stopped.
Given a minute to recover and again asked for the information, Barb struggled for the breath to answer. They had suffered this much. It wouldn’t be in vain!
“No way,” she gasped.
“Baiser les bâtards!” added Messaline.
“Then we must try a little more,” said Nicolay as his henchmen wheeled up a device looking like an electric home barbeque.
“Voilà,” said Antonio, “La pièce de résistance.”
Messaline, insulted by the man’s use of her native tongue, spat out, “Ne me parle pas comme çà, merdeux!”
“My apologies, mademoiselle. But I think you will object less to my language and more to what you are about to experience.”
“In the medieval times you study, Ladies,” continued Antonio, “you know hot irons were a favorite tool of inquisitors, witch-finders and torturers. You probably also know that the torturer was not a ignorant sadistic thug, but a highly-trained craftsman who had to serve a long apprenticeship in order to become a master torturer.”
Both women were silent as Antonio evoked the horrors of Medieval torture. This was no game now, they realized. Their very survival might be at stake.
“They would use a charcoal fire,” Harold continued, “and the torturer had to be an expert to judge the correct temperature by color.” A man lifted the lid of the barbeque to show red hot electric heating elements with two dozen long iron needles arranged across the surface.
“Too hot and it would just melt through skin and flesh and destroy the nerves, limiting the pain. Too cool and the full agony of the burn would not be achieved.” He paused to allow the thought of such inhuman torment to sink in.
“Today, technology makes it simple, science tells us the optimum temperature for burning soft flesh is 105°C - 221°F for you Americans. We set the control for that and behold, the perfect heat to cause the maximum pain! Even ignorant sadists like our friends here,” he gestured to the goons, “become masters of torture! They can thrust these needles through your flesh and draw them back out without being fused to the burnt tissue.”
Barb and Messaline listened with revulsion and terror to Antonio’s matter-of-fact description of graphic, excruciating torture.
As Barb shook her head no, a man approached her with a needle. In a moment, he stuck the point into the swell of her lower belly, sideways, just below her navel!
He left it there for a moment as blood and flesh boiled with a hiss, and then pulled it back out. But the pain remained!
“AAARRRGGHHHHHH!!!!!!” Dr. Moore screamed at the top of her lungs. The pain was as if a knife had cut deeply into her.
“Non! Non! Pour l'amour de Dieu, s'il vous plaît, non!” cried Messa, seeing the unbelievable cruelty. “Don’t hurt her! No!”
Barb thrashed in her ropes for about 20 seconds screaming with all her might until she tired and slowly quieted and hung from her bonds, her head down and her body now covered with sweat. The pain in her stomach just went on and on, seeming to burn deeper and deeper.
Nicolay spoke briefly to the other man by the heater. He picked up another needle and moved toward Barb. As he did, the first followed his lead.
He grabbed the professor’s swollen and welted right breast and drove the hot needle up from the bottom. Barb flailed as the burning, boiling pain seared the inside of her tit.
Before her wails subsided, the other stabbed his needle straight sideways through her left breast.
They returned to the heater, where they replaced the needles to reheat. They picked up two more cruel implements and approached Barb again. Smiling at each other, the beasts plunged them through her bleeding, tumescent nipples and deep into her loveflesh!
Dr. Barbara Moore’s already aching breasts exploded with hellish, unbearable pain. She cried and struggled for several minutes before her breathing had steadied and Antonio could ask the question.
“Well, Dr. Moore? Have you thought better of your refusal?”
Barbara was still in a state of shock from the torture. She couldn’t believe the blinding pain in her back and belly; but the torment in her beaten and burned breasts was so much worse! This was nothing like the dreams of a little whipping while defying Nazi torturers. She wanted to do ANYTHING to make the pain stop. But the natural defiance and stubbornness in Barb was not quite dead.
She caught her breath and looked, though sweat stinging eyes, at the men. “Is that the best you can do, you pieces of shit? I’ll never help you! No matter how long you torture me!”
“So brave and so foolish, Dr. Moore,” said Antonia in a soft voice. “Those burns will make scars you will carry the rest of your life. Do you really think you can bear dozens more? Not to mention all the other ways we can destroy your mind and body?”
Silently, both Barb and Messa prayed for rescue as they watched the men return to the heater to replace the slightly cooled needles and grab more, fresh and hot!
Ten minutes of the canes pounding into their breasts reduced the girls to screaming, thrashing wild women, tugging hopelessly against their bonds. Their tits were bruised and welted, the nipples swollen and cut, blood running down the undersides and onto their stomachs. After what seemed an eternity to the tortured girls, the men finally stopped.
Given a minute to recover and again asked for the information, Barb struggled for the breath to answer. They had suffered this much. It wouldn’t be in vain!
“No way,” she gasped.
“Baiser les bâtards!” added Messaline.
“Then we must try a little more,” said Nicolay as his henchmen wheeled up a device looking like an electric home barbeque.
“Voilà,” said Antonio, “La pièce de résistance.”
Messaline, insulted by the man’s use of her native tongue, spat out, “Ne me parle pas comme çà, merdeux!”
“My apologies, mademoiselle. But I think you will object less to my language and more to what you are about to experience.”
“In the medieval times you study, Ladies,” continued Antonio, “you know hot irons were a favorite tool of inquisitors, witch-finders and torturers. You probably also know that the torturer was not a ignorant sadistic thug, but a highly-trained craftsman who had to serve a long apprenticeship in order to become a master torturer.”
Both women were silent as Antonio evoked the horrors of Medieval torture. This was no game now, they realized. Their very survival might be at stake.
“They would use a charcoal fire,” Harold continued, “and the torturer had to be an expert to judge the correct temperature by color.” A man lifted the lid of the barbeque to show red hot electric heating elements with two dozen long iron needles arranged across the surface.
“Too hot and it would just melt through skin and flesh and destroy the nerves, limiting the pain. Too cool and the full agony of the burn would not be achieved.” He paused to allow the thought of such inhuman torment to sink in.
“Today, technology makes it simple, science tells us the optimum temperature for burning soft flesh is 105°C - 221°F for you Americans. We set the control for that and behold, the perfect heat to cause the maximum pain! Even ignorant sadists like our friends here,” he gestured to the goons, “become masters of torture! They can thrust these needles through your flesh and draw them back out without being fused to the burnt tissue.”
Barb and Messaline listened with revulsion and terror to Antonio’s matter-of-fact description of graphic, excruciating torture.
As Barb shook her head no, a man approached her with a needle. In a moment, he stuck the point into the swell of her lower belly, sideways, just below her navel!
He left it there for a moment as blood and flesh boiled with a hiss, and then pulled it back out. But the pain remained!
“AAARRRGGHHHHHH!!!!!!” Dr. Moore screamed at the top of her lungs. The pain was as if a knife had cut deeply into her.
“Non! Non! Pour l'amour de Dieu, s'il vous plaît, non!” cried Messa, seeing the unbelievable cruelty. “Don’t hurt her! No!”
Barb thrashed in her ropes for about 20 seconds screaming with all her might until she tired and slowly quieted and hung from her bonds, her head down and her body now covered with sweat. The pain in her stomach just went on and on, seeming to burn deeper and deeper.
Nicolay spoke briefly to the other man by the heater. He picked up another needle and moved toward Barb. As he did, the first followed his lead.
He grabbed the professor’s swollen and welted right breast and drove the hot needle up from the bottom. Barb flailed as the burning, boiling pain seared the inside of her tit.
Before her wails subsided, the other stabbed his needle straight sideways through her left breast.
They returned to the heater, where they replaced the needles to reheat. They picked up two more cruel implements and approached Barb again. Smiling at each other, the beasts plunged them through her bleeding, tumescent nipples and deep into her loveflesh!
Dr. Barbara Moore’s already aching breasts exploded with hellish, unbearable pain. She cried and struggled for several minutes before her breathing had steadied and Antonio could ask the question.
“Well, Dr. Moore? Have you thought better of your refusal?”
Barbara was still in a state of shock from the torture. She couldn’t believe the blinding pain in her back and belly; but the torment in her beaten and burned breasts was so much worse! This was nothing like the dreams of a little whipping while defying Nazi torturers. She wanted to do ANYTHING to make the pain stop. But the natural defiance and stubbornness in Barb was not quite dead.
She caught her breath and looked, though sweat stinging eyes, at the men. “Is that the best you can do, you pieces of shit? I’ll never help you! No matter how long you torture me!”
“So brave and so foolish, Dr. Moore,” said Antonia in a soft voice. “Those burns will make scars you will carry the rest of your life. Do you really think you can bear dozens more? Not to mention all the other ways we can destroy your mind and body?”
Silently, both Barb and Messa prayed for rescue as they watched the men return to the heater to replace the slightly cooled needles and grab more, fresh and hot!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Oh my God! That's terrible
!!
Does anyone know when the pizza is supposed to get here?
!!Does anyone know when the pizza is supposed to get here?
Now, that’s what I call DEFIANCE!
There are drawbacks to being an academic medievalist. Sometimes you know a little bit too much.
Only for Americans? Haven’t they done studies of other groups?
How articulate of me ....
A case in which tumescence doesn’t pay ..
Oh Mr. Tree! We need you ... now!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Very simple equipment
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 39 April 23, 2019 Too Much to Bear!
“I don’t want to destroy your lovely body, Barb,” said Antonio. “And I don’t want to waste time. Your friends will be contacting the authorities and we must move. It occurs to me that I might make faster progress if I turn my attention to your little student friend here.”
To Barb’s horror, Harold turned to Messaline and the thugs brought the heater with more than a dozen hot needles to her side.
“No! Leave her alone! She doesn’t know where the treasure is! Only I do!” Barb struggled frantically at her bonds.
“No, I don’t think she knows anything,” said Antonio. “But I suspect you feel protective toward your young student…and lover.” Barb stared in terror at the man. “Yes, David told me of your affair with Messaline. Rather unprofessional wasn’t it, professor? But it gives me a little leverage, don’t you think?”
No! No! He was going to torture her innocent protégé to force Barb to talk!
Messaline had heard it and struggled to be brave. “N'ai pas peur, mon amour. I am strong.”
But Barb became frantic, crying out, “Leave her alone! Do it to me!”
“Very noble of you, Barbara. But that isn’t an option. The only option is to cooperate. You can stop it by taking us to the treasure.”
“No, please, she knows nothing! she knows nothing! Please don’t hurt her more!” begged the professor, now weeping for her young lover.
Even as the first thug approached her with a hot iron, the young blonde remained brave and defiant. He grabbed an already tortured breast and quickly thrust a hot needle through from side to side and drew it out before it melted in place. Unholy screams were torn from her throat as the pain drilled deep in her sensitive flesh. Messa thrashed in her bonds as the burning pain drilled deep in her tit.
When she opened her eyes, she saw two men, each with a hellish needle intended for her tits. Maddened by the pain from the first needle, the young student lost both courage and control. Warm yellow liquid soaked her panties and ran down her legs as she pitifully begged, “Non! Pas la torture! Ayez pitié! “.
Barb added her pleas. Harold looked at her questioningly, but she couldn’t bring herself to give in to him. Help had to come!
Both men grabbed roughly a welted breast and again positioned the needles, this time as nipple skewers. Messa couldn’t tear her eyes away from the horrid fate coming, and whimpered in fear.
Barb wanted to stop it, but her voice was frozen as she watched in horror.
“Non! Non! NON!!!” cried Messaline.
Then they pressed the glowing iron into Messa’s nipples and deep into her breasts. The poor girl screamed herself hoarse. After a minute of flailing agony, she collapsed to hang limply from the ropes, panting.
Barb stared incredulously at her young lover’s tortured nipples, swollen to two times their normal size.
“Observe, Dr. Moore.” Said Harold, gesturing to the men moving their fresh needles toward Messa’s fair skin.
“NOOOO!” screamed Barb. “Stop! I’ll take you. I’LL TAKE YOU! STOP!!!!”
The irons halted and Antonio smiled. He had won, as he knew he would.
“You will take us to the treasure? Show where it is hidden?”
“Yes, Yes, YES! Don’t hurt her again.”
“Take them down and salve their burns quickly. Get them dressed and in the first van. I want to leave as soon as possible.”
With surprising gentleness, the henchmen released the women from their bonds and lay them on nearby cots. Sweet smelling salves were applied with a feather touch to their welts and bruises and a richer cream with pain killers infused was dabbed on the burns on their breasts.
After allowing them five minutes to rest, their clothes were brought and they dressed.
Then they cuffed their hands behind their backs and a man took each arm and they were guided, half-carried, out a labyrinth of passages into the sunlight.
“I don’t want to destroy your lovely body, Barb,” said Antonio. “And I don’t want to waste time. Your friends will be contacting the authorities and we must move. It occurs to me that I might make faster progress if I turn my attention to your little student friend here.”
To Barb’s horror, Harold turned to Messaline and the thugs brought the heater with more than a dozen hot needles to her side.
“No! Leave her alone! She doesn’t know where the treasure is! Only I do!” Barb struggled frantically at her bonds.
“No, I don’t think she knows anything,” said Antonio. “But I suspect you feel protective toward your young student…and lover.” Barb stared in terror at the man. “Yes, David told me of your affair with Messaline. Rather unprofessional wasn’t it, professor? But it gives me a little leverage, don’t you think?”
No! No! He was going to torture her innocent protégé to force Barb to talk!
Messaline had heard it and struggled to be brave. “N'ai pas peur, mon amour. I am strong.”
But Barb became frantic, crying out, “Leave her alone! Do it to me!”
“Very noble of you, Barbara. But that isn’t an option. The only option is to cooperate. You can stop it by taking us to the treasure.”
“No, please, she knows nothing! she knows nothing! Please don’t hurt her more!” begged the professor, now weeping for her young lover.
Even as the first thug approached her with a hot iron, the young blonde remained brave and defiant. He grabbed an already tortured breast and quickly thrust a hot needle through from side to side and drew it out before it melted in place. Unholy screams were torn from her throat as the pain drilled deep in her sensitive flesh. Messa thrashed in her bonds as the burning pain drilled deep in her tit.
When she opened her eyes, she saw two men, each with a hellish needle intended for her tits. Maddened by the pain from the first needle, the young student lost both courage and control. Warm yellow liquid soaked her panties and ran down her legs as she pitifully begged, “Non! Pas la torture! Ayez pitié! “.
Barb added her pleas. Harold looked at her questioningly, but she couldn’t bring herself to give in to him. Help had to come!
Both men grabbed roughly a welted breast and again positioned the needles, this time as nipple skewers. Messa couldn’t tear her eyes away from the horrid fate coming, and whimpered in fear.
Barb wanted to stop it, but her voice was frozen as she watched in horror.
“Non! Non! NON!!!” cried Messaline.
Then they pressed the glowing iron into Messa’s nipples and deep into her breasts. The poor girl screamed herself hoarse. After a minute of flailing agony, she collapsed to hang limply from the ropes, panting.
Barb stared incredulously at her young lover’s tortured nipples, swollen to two times their normal size.
“Observe, Dr. Moore.” Said Harold, gesturing to the men moving their fresh needles toward Messa’s fair skin.
“NOOOO!” screamed Barb. “Stop! I’ll take you. I’LL TAKE YOU! STOP!!!!”
The irons halted and Antonio smiled. He had won, as he knew he would.
“You will take us to the treasure? Show where it is hidden?”
“Yes, Yes, YES! Don’t hurt her again.”
“Take them down and salve their burns quickly. Get them dressed and in the first van. I want to leave as soon as possible.”
With surprising gentleness, the henchmen released the women from their bonds and lay them on nearby cots. Sweet smelling salves were applied with a feather touch to their welts and bruises and a richer cream with pain killers infused was dabbed on the burns on their breasts.
After allowing them five minutes to rest, their clothes were brought and they dressed.
Then they cuffed their hands behind their backs and a man took each arm and they were guided, half-carried, out a labyrinth of passages into the sunlight.
Last edited by a moderator:
messaline
Crucified Amazon
But when ...
... a beast'scream was getting out of my throat !
gifSorry, Barb, I'm ashamed but how some men can do that to a woman ...
Merci messieurs, you were so much kind !
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Just following our dreams, ma'am.Yes, they can be soooo beastly!
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
It appears Barbara will take them to the treasure. How many out there have figured out what the key is? Decoded the key? Are still awake?
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 40 April 23, 2019 The Treasure Uncovered
It was a bright, sunny Spring mid-morning. Totally incongruous after the time spent in the windowless warehouse/torture chamber. Barb saw three waiting vans and a box truck. Barb was placed in the front seat of the lead van, right between Antonio and the driver and Messa in the rear seat between two men.
Harold turned to Barb. “Where to? And don’t play games or I’ll have my men skin your lover alive.”
“Čačvina Fortress,” Dr. Moore said with a lump in her throat. While her sense of humanity had forced her to sacrifice the historical find to save her student unimaginable pain, the twenty years of devotion to academic values made her sob in despair.
Barb wasn’t sure exactly where they started, but they were outside the center of Split. It took about 30 minutes up route #1 and the hill highway to Cačvina.
They pulled off the road to a small turnoff at the ruins of the ancient fortress whose foundations were pre-Roman.
“Now where?” asked Nicolay as they all exited the vans. Barb led them, still handcuffed, to the ridge to the left of the ruins. There was an old dirt path leading across the ridge by the ruins and on the other side of it a rock outcrop.
“The treasure is under that outcrop.” Said Dr. Moore
“Can you be more specific? I don’t want to hurt you or you “student” again.”
“There should be a small cave entrance on the south side. It will be filled with dirt, but the roof should be visible. You’ll need picks and shovels.”
Circling to the south slope, they saw just what Barb predicted. An arch in the rock sinking inward with dirt and grass blocking the bottom.
Harold’s men set to digging. After about twenty minutes of hard work, they had removed eight centuries of dirt and debris. It was clear that there was a passage, sloping downward into the outcropping. Another ten minutes and an opening about two feet in diameter had been cleared. A cave!
Harold ordered Barb to be uncuffed. “Don’t try anything funny, Dr. Moore. My men would love to rape and torture your friend. Don’t give me a reason to let them.”
“I won’t, you bastard!”
“Well, it is your find after all, professor. I’ll let you get the first look. Here’s a torch. The hole seems big enough for you to at least look in. Like Howard Carter.*
Would this be Dr. Moore’s “Carter – King Tut” moment, or "Geraldo at Al Capone’s safe?" There was no way to know if the treasure was still there until she looked! Barb crawled in the entrance and got her head inside before switching on the torch. She drew her breath in sharply, and whispered to herself, “Yes, brother Nickolas, you were so correct! It does look like the beauty of heaven!”
She crawled back out and turned to Harold Antonio. “This is the place you want,” she said with a sneer. “The treasure looks intact and fabulous.”
He smiled and began directing the men to renew the excavation. Barbara walked over to Messa to put her arms around her. The two sobbed silently together from physical pain and mental anguish. Unspoken were the fears of both of what the men would do with them now that they weren’t needed anymore.
The whole group, except one guard for the girls, threw themselves into clearing the entrance and bringing boxes and sacks and wheelbarrows to haul their plunder away. Even Harold and Nicolay, stripped off their jackets and took up picks and shovels.
As all were completely engrossed in opening up the treasure vault, none noticed something happening down the hill toward Split. Barbara glanced down the hill and saw a caravan of about a dozen cars speeding up the hill with flashing lights. A little later, as they were no more than 200 meters away, their sirens all came on.
The gang froze for a moment and then made a dash for their vans. But it was too late. By the time they had the engines started and were getting in gear, the police cars had arrived and blocked their way. More than dozen uniformed officers jumped out with guns and body armor and the whole group quickly surrendered. Some official looking persons exited the rear cars followed by a familiar face, Andrija Novak! He hurried to greet Dr. Moore and Messalina. Following him were Henry and Susan.
In response to their urgent questions, Barbara conceded that they were injured and needed medical treatment. But neither she nor Messa were willing to leave the site.
Dr. Novak pointed to an ambulance coming up the hill. He promised that he and Henry and Susan would stay with armed police to protect the site. Dr. Windar was flying over from The U.S. with an additional team and arrangements were being made for more permanent security. He begged that the two women would go for treatment and could return as soon as able.
Barb couldn’t forget the other member of the team. "They have David," she whispered, near collapse. "Ask Antonio where he is.”
“I promise we will find him safely,” said Andrija. “Now you must go to hospital.”
As the stress was relieved, both women were feeling the intense pain of their injuries and fell together to their knees, exhausted.
As they were lifted into the ambulance on stretchers, Barb turned to Andrija and said, “Tell Dr. Windar, ‘Nike! Nike! Nenikekiam!**’”
“You shall tell him yourself, Dr. Moore. Now you must rest and recover!” said Andrija. “I swear as a fellow historian, I will guard your treasure with my life!”
The EMT gave Barb an injection and prepared to close the door. She raised her head, “How did you know where to find us.”
Andrija smiled, “Dr Chaucer called me this morning and gave me exact directions. I presumed you must have told him of the location.”
“Yes, Of course,” Barb said, as she drifted into blissful unconsciousness.
*the discoverer of King Tutankhamun (Tut’s) tomb. He made a small hole in the door and used candlelight to peer through. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness beyond, he heard his sponsor, Lord Carnarvon asking: “Can you see anything?”
“Yes,” Carter replied. “Wonderful things. Wonderful things!”
** “Victory! Victory! Rejoice, we conquer!” The hemerodromos (day-runner), Pheidippides, was sent from Athens to Sparta (150 miles) to gather troops to help fight the Persians at Marathon. He ran there and back and then the 25 miles to Marathon. After the the Greeks defeated the Persian army in battle, he was sent to bring the good news to Athens. After running the 25 miles to the Acropolis (a total run over a couple days of about 14 modern Marathons), he burst into the chambers and gallantly hailed his countrymen with “Nike! Nike! Nenikekiam.” And then he collapsed from exhaustion and died.
It was a bright, sunny Spring mid-morning. Totally incongruous after the time spent in the windowless warehouse/torture chamber. Barb saw three waiting vans and a box truck. Barb was placed in the front seat of the lead van, right between Antonio and the driver and Messa in the rear seat between two men.
Harold turned to Barb. “Where to? And don’t play games or I’ll have my men skin your lover alive.”
“Čačvina Fortress,” Dr. Moore said with a lump in her throat. While her sense of humanity had forced her to sacrifice the historical find to save her student unimaginable pain, the twenty years of devotion to academic values made her sob in despair.
Barb wasn’t sure exactly where they started, but they were outside the center of Split. It took about 30 minutes up route #1 and the hill highway to Cačvina.
They pulled off the road to a small turnoff at the ruins of the ancient fortress whose foundations were pre-Roman.
“Now where?” asked Nicolay as they all exited the vans. Barb led them, still handcuffed, to the ridge to the left of the ruins. There was an old dirt path leading across the ridge by the ruins and on the other side of it a rock outcrop.
“The treasure is under that outcrop.” Said Dr. Moore
“Can you be more specific? I don’t want to hurt you or you “student” again.”
“There should be a small cave entrance on the south side. It will be filled with dirt, but the roof should be visible. You’ll need picks and shovels.”
Circling to the south slope, they saw just what Barb predicted. An arch in the rock sinking inward with dirt and grass blocking the bottom.
Harold’s men set to digging. After about twenty minutes of hard work, they had removed eight centuries of dirt and debris. It was clear that there was a passage, sloping downward into the outcropping. Another ten minutes and an opening about two feet in diameter had been cleared. A cave!
Harold ordered Barb to be uncuffed. “Don’t try anything funny, Dr. Moore. My men would love to rape and torture your friend. Don’t give me a reason to let them.”
“I won’t, you bastard!”
“Well, it is your find after all, professor. I’ll let you get the first look. Here’s a torch. The hole seems big enough for you to at least look in. Like Howard Carter.*
Would this be Dr. Moore’s “Carter – King Tut” moment, or "Geraldo at Al Capone’s safe?" There was no way to know if the treasure was still there until she looked! Barb crawled in the entrance and got her head inside before switching on the torch. She drew her breath in sharply, and whispered to herself, “Yes, brother Nickolas, you were so correct! It does look like the beauty of heaven!”
She crawled back out and turned to Harold Antonio. “This is the place you want,” she said with a sneer. “The treasure looks intact and fabulous.”
He smiled and began directing the men to renew the excavation. Barbara walked over to Messa to put her arms around her. The two sobbed silently together from physical pain and mental anguish. Unspoken were the fears of both of what the men would do with them now that they weren’t needed anymore.
The whole group, except one guard for the girls, threw themselves into clearing the entrance and bringing boxes and sacks and wheelbarrows to haul their plunder away. Even Harold and Nicolay, stripped off their jackets and took up picks and shovels.
As all were completely engrossed in opening up the treasure vault, none noticed something happening down the hill toward Split. Barbara glanced down the hill and saw a caravan of about a dozen cars speeding up the hill with flashing lights. A little later, as they were no more than 200 meters away, their sirens all came on.
The gang froze for a moment and then made a dash for their vans. But it was too late. By the time they had the engines started and were getting in gear, the police cars had arrived and blocked their way. More than dozen uniformed officers jumped out with guns and body armor and the whole group quickly surrendered. Some official looking persons exited the rear cars followed by a familiar face, Andrija Novak! He hurried to greet Dr. Moore and Messalina. Following him were Henry and Susan.
In response to their urgent questions, Barbara conceded that they were injured and needed medical treatment. But neither she nor Messa were willing to leave the site.
Dr. Novak pointed to an ambulance coming up the hill. He promised that he and Henry and Susan would stay with armed police to protect the site. Dr. Windar was flying over from The U.S. with an additional team and arrangements were being made for more permanent security. He begged that the two women would go for treatment and could return as soon as able.
Barb couldn’t forget the other member of the team. "They have David," she whispered, near collapse. "Ask Antonio where he is.”
“I promise we will find him safely,” said Andrija. “Now you must go to hospital.”
As the stress was relieved, both women were feeling the intense pain of their injuries and fell together to their knees, exhausted.
As they were lifted into the ambulance on stretchers, Barb turned to Andrija and said, “Tell Dr. Windar, ‘Nike! Nike! Nenikekiam!**’”
“You shall tell him yourself, Dr. Moore. Now you must rest and recover!” said Andrija. “I swear as a fellow historian, I will guard your treasure with my life!”
The EMT gave Barb an injection and prepared to close the door. She raised her head, “How did you know where to find us.”
Andrija smiled, “Dr Chaucer called me this morning and gave me exact directions. I presumed you must have told him of the location.”
“Yes, Of course,” Barb said, as she drifted into blissful unconsciousness.
*the discoverer of King Tutankhamun (Tut’s) tomb. He made a small hole in the door and used candlelight to peer through. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness beyond, he heard his sponsor, Lord Carnarvon asking: “Can you see anything?”
“Yes,” Carter replied. “Wonderful things. Wonderful things!”
** “Victory! Victory! Rejoice, we conquer!” The hemerodromos (day-runner), Pheidippides, was sent from Athens to Sparta (150 miles) to gather troops to help fight the Persians at Marathon. He ran there and back and then the 25 miles to Marathon. After the the Greeks defeated the Persian army in battle, he was sent to bring the good news to Athens. After running the 25 miles to the Acropolis (a total run over a couple days of about 14 modern Marathons), he burst into the chambers and gallantly hailed his countrymen with “Nike! Nike! Nenikekiam.” And then he collapsed from exhaustion and died.
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Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Works great, it comes after they take off her cuffs. I've inserted at the proper place
Minnesotans don’t sneer. We’re way too nice to do a thing like that ...
Here comes the cavalry! So Hollywood like!
Flying first class, no doubt.
Of course. I knew that
Rescues at the very last minute are not only classic but always fun, aren’t they?
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Chapter 41 April 23, 2019 The Dean Arrives
After that, things were the proverbial whirlwind of activity.
Barbara and Messaline were whisked off to the hospital in Split to have their injuries attended to. Andrija and Henry and Susan took charge of the treasure site with the help of the armed guards. Antonio, Nicolay and their men were taken into custody and transported to the federalni zatvor (federal jail) in Zagreb under high security. Antonio immediately told the police where to find David.
April 24, 2018
Early next morning Dr. Claus Windar arrived with three more professionals to help with the site administration and recovery. Sending the others to the treasure site, he stopped first to visit the women in hospital.
Once in hospital beds and full of pain killers, the effect of a sleepless night and severe injuries caught up with the two. When Windar arrived at 10 the next morning, they had just barely awakened and were still groggy. The attending physician assured the Dean that their injuries were not life-threatening and that they would fully recover. He expected to be able to discharge them the next day. He did say trauma counseling would be appropriate as well as possible plastic surgery to cover the scars.
When Claus walked into the room which Barb and Messa shared, he was pleased to find them in good spirits.
“Congratulation Dr. Moore, and you too, Messaline. Bonjour. What you discovered will be rated one of the great moments of historical discovery!”
“Bonjour, Doyen,” said Messaline in a cheerful but weak voice.
“Thank you, Dean,” Barb said in a weak voice but with a broad smile. “My team did an excellent job all through. But what about the site and the treasure? Are they safe?” Panicking over her great discovery sitting exposed in the Croatian hillside, Moore tried to push herself up to get out of bed. But she grimaced and groaned with pain.
“Now don’t go hurting yourself, Barb,” ordered Windar. “Henry and Susan and Director Novak did an excellent job safeguarding the site. We have already arranged with the Croatian government to use military transport to move the treasure to a vault at the Hrvatska Narodna Banka (the Croatian Central Bank) in Zagreb. It will be quite safe there as we work out issues of sovereignty with the government.”
“That sounds the best,” said Barb even more weakly. The next round of pain-killers was beginning to dull her mind.
“The Doctor says you will be released tomorrow. Rest until then. I’m heading to the site now.”
“Good-bye,” Dr. Moore whispered before falling asleep.
“Au revoir Doyen,” said Messa even sleepier.
At the treasure site, Dr. Windar found everything proceeding well. Henry and Susan had camped out overnight along with guards to keep “Dr. Moore’s Treasure” (as they insisted in calling it) safe. Now, along with the new personnel from Minnesota and Director’s Novak’s people, they were well on the way to recording the in situ of the treasure preparatory to being able to move it. Military transport vehicles and a well-armed contingent of Croatian special forces awaited the order to load and go to the Capital.
Since Claus needed to do little, he contented himself by observing the extent of the find. Most exciting, of course, were the gold and silver vessels and statuettes. Director Novak guessed over 1,000 kilos each of gold and silver objects, all in beautiful condition. Also cataloged were fifty bags of gold Roman coins estimated to weigh in total 1,500 kg! Just the bullion scrap value of those coins was phenomenal – over $45 million! But far beyond that was the historical significance. Multiple manuscripts were found in the pile, many in remarkably good condition. What might they add to our knowledge? Thought Windar. He pondered this, knowing the oldest extant manuscripts of the whole New testament were written over fifty years after this treasure was sealed!
The dean also noted a small golden bust being removed which did not look at all Roman.
The usually business-obsessed Dean even took time to enjoy the beautiful views from the hilltop this sunny morning. Green fields swept down toward the sea and herds of goats grazed peacefully. Diocletian had selected a picturesque as well as secure site for his treasure!
Never long content without counting costs, Clause took up his laptop to update the budget and expenses. He noted ruefully the hospital costs for the two girls (he’d make sure they were discharged in the morning, no matter what) and the cost of flying the additional personnel from the States. But now, that he was here, he could at least control some the additional expenses, starting with smaller, cheaper hotels with two or three to a room.
With all at Čačvina in good hands, Windar returned to Split and checked into his hotel (really little more than a hostel) to get a few hours of jet lag sleep. When he got to his room, he noticed there was only one small window and one low power lamp, leaving a pervasive impression of darkness. He smiled. Darkness is cheap, and Clause liked it.
That evening, he returned to the hospital to keep Barb and Messa company and to keep them from ignoring their doctor and attempting to leave the hospital prematurely. He worried that they might injure themselves doing so and have to stay longer, running up the bill. In addition, Claus had promised Geoffrey that he would tie them to their beds if necessary! As they sat and chatted idly, Winder couldn’t get out of his mind the image of Moore and Messeline tied, naked, to their beds!
After that, things were the proverbial whirlwind of activity.
Barbara and Messaline were whisked off to the hospital in Split to have their injuries attended to. Andrija and Henry and Susan took charge of the treasure site with the help of the armed guards. Antonio, Nicolay and their men were taken into custody and transported to the federalni zatvor (federal jail) in Zagreb under high security. Antonio immediately told the police where to find David.
April 24, 2018
Early next morning Dr. Claus Windar arrived with three more professionals to help with the site administration and recovery. Sending the others to the treasure site, he stopped first to visit the women in hospital.
Once in hospital beds and full of pain killers, the effect of a sleepless night and severe injuries caught up with the two. When Windar arrived at 10 the next morning, they had just barely awakened and were still groggy. The attending physician assured the Dean that their injuries were not life-threatening and that they would fully recover. He expected to be able to discharge them the next day. He did say trauma counseling would be appropriate as well as possible plastic surgery to cover the scars.
When Claus walked into the room which Barb and Messa shared, he was pleased to find them in good spirits.
“Congratulation Dr. Moore, and you too, Messaline. Bonjour. What you discovered will be rated one of the great moments of historical discovery!”
“Bonjour, Doyen,” said Messaline in a cheerful but weak voice.
“Thank you, Dean,” Barb said in a weak voice but with a broad smile. “My team did an excellent job all through. But what about the site and the treasure? Are they safe?” Panicking over her great discovery sitting exposed in the Croatian hillside, Moore tried to push herself up to get out of bed. But she grimaced and groaned with pain.
“Now don’t go hurting yourself, Barb,” ordered Windar. “Henry and Susan and Director Novak did an excellent job safeguarding the site. We have already arranged with the Croatian government to use military transport to move the treasure to a vault at the Hrvatska Narodna Banka (the Croatian Central Bank) in Zagreb. It will be quite safe there as we work out issues of sovereignty with the government.”
“That sounds the best,” said Barb even more weakly. The next round of pain-killers was beginning to dull her mind.
“The Doctor says you will be released tomorrow. Rest until then. I’m heading to the site now.”
“Good-bye,” Dr. Moore whispered before falling asleep.
“Au revoir Doyen,” said Messa even sleepier.
At the treasure site, Dr. Windar found everything proceeding well. Henry and Susan had camped out overnight along with guards to keep “Dr. Moore’s Treasure” (as they insisted in calling it) safe. Now, along with the new personnel from Minnesota and Director’s Novak’s people, they were well on the way to recording the in situ of the treasure preparatory to being able to move it. Military transport vehicles and a well-armed contingent of Croatian special forces awaited the order to load and go to the Capital.
Since Claus needed to do little, he contented himself by observing the extent of the find. Most exciting, of course, were the gold and silver vessels and statuettes. Director Novak guessed over 1,000 kilos each of gold and silver objects, all in beautiful condition. Also cataloged were fifty bags of gold Roman coins estimated to weigh in total 1,500 kg! Just the bullion scrap value of those coins was phenomenal – over $45 million! But far beyond that was the historical significance. Multiple manuscripts were found in the pile, many in remarkably good condition. What might they add to our knowledge? Thought Windar. He pondered this, knowing the oldest extant manuscripts of the whole New testament were written over fifty years after this treasure was sealed!
The dean also noted a small golden bust being removed which did not look at all Roman.
The usually business-obsessed Dean even took time to enjoy the beautiful views from the hilltop this sunny morning. Green fields swept down toward the sea and herds of goats grazed peacefully. Diocletian had selected a picturesque as well as secure site for his treasure!
Never long content without counting costs, Clause took up his laptop to update the budget and expenses. He noted ruefully the hospital costs for the two girls (he’d make sure they were discharged in the morning, no matter what) and the cost of flying the additional personnel from the States. But now, that he was here, he could at least control some the additional expenses, starting with smaller, cheaper hotels with two or three to a room.
With all at Čačvina in good hands, Windar returned to Split and checked into his hotel (really little more than a hostel) to get a few hours of jet lag sleep. When he got to his room, he noticed there was only one small window and one low power lamp, leaving a pervasive impression of darkness. He smiled. Darkness is cheap, and Clause liked it.
That evening, he returned to the hospital to keep Barb and Messa company and to keep them from ignoring their doctor and attempting to leave the hospital prematurely. He worried that they might injure themselves doing so and have to stay longer, running up the bill. In addition, Claus had promised Geoffrey that he would tie them to their beds if necessary! As they sat and chatted idly, Winder couldn’t get out of his mind the image of Moore and Messeline tied, naked, to their beds!
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