Chapter 1
Ten Years Later
Solomon Northrum had everything a man could desire. In just ten years he had gone from a nobody to the wealthiest man west of the Mississippi. It was not only wealth that he had amassed but also power, which according to him was even better than money. Money did have its uses though, he mused as he looked around his ornately decorated train carriage. Fine Persian rugs covered the floors as imported Chinese silks draped the windows. Yes, money did serve its purpose.
Walking over to his desk on one end of the carriage, he produced a key and with the soft clack of a mechanical mechanism a hidden drawer opened on the side. Inside the small drawer were only two items. An ivory cased pocket watch with an intricate carved relief of multiple eyes and a small shining razor blade. Looking over his shoulder at the clock that ticked on the wall the hands read eleven fifty-nine.
It was time.
Taking the razor blade in his left hand Solomon sliced his right palm, the sudden flash of pain sent electric shocks up his spine. A hundred dozen times he had performed this ritual, each time it never got easier. Clutching his injured hand tightly, thin trails of blood began to run from his fist and began to drip onto the ivory eye. The watch's thirst was quenched with the blood.
He was coming.
At the same moment that the clock on the wall chimed its mid day chorus a sudden chill spread throughout the carriage. A mass of clouds floated over the bright May sun and covered the world in darkness. Taking a deep breath Solomon placed the razor and watch back into the hidden drawer and pressed it closed.
Pop
Solomon spun around and looked over in the direction of his small bar and sitting area. Standing over top of the bar was a man pouring himself a drink out of one of Solomon's expensive cognacs. "It's been a while Solomon, I was starting to think you had forgotten about me." As he picked up the glass he had just poured for himself a film of frost developed where his fingers were.
Dropping down on one knee Solomon bowed his head, "No my Lord, I could never forget you. I have just gotten very busy lately, business has been exceptional as of late." Solomon kept his eyes locked into the yellow flowers on the Persian carpeting.
"I see you are doing very well for yourself, my child. I am always proud when my Pups prove worth my time. I take it you received the message I had sent to you?"
"Yes my Lord, I will help you with any task you have for me."
The Man walked over to Solomon and placed his hand on his shoulder. Solomon felt the cold radiating from his finger tips. "Stand up, we have matters to discuss." The Man walked over to the desk and pushed the stack of deeds and land transfer papers off onto the floor. "Take a seat Solomon." This carriage may have belonged to him but The Cold Man wanted it known who was truly in charge at that moment.
The Cold Man pulled two papers out from his pocket and laid them on the desk. The first paper was a rough drawn map labeled with only the vaguest of landmarks and directly in the middle was a crude drawing of a house. The second was a drawing of a young, beautiful, brown haired woman. Solomon was captivated by the drawing, it appeared as if it would leap off the page and she would be standing right in the carriage with them.
"As I stated in the message that you received was that I had a small job for you, my most faithful servant, to take charge of. She is that job. All I require is for you to take her and bring her to me." The Cold Man lifted the frosted glass to lips again and took a long swig of the sweet brown nectar.
Solomon was not taken back by the thought of kidnapping, the only thing that The Cold Man had that really hit home was that he was his, 'Most Faithful Servant' Solomon owed his life to The Cold Man, he was his Father, his Provider, his God. "Who is she, my Lord?"
"She is a Nun and an enemy of progress. She has refused the blessings that I have given you and for that she must be dealt with." Solomon did not notice that when The Cold Man spoke of her he stroked three small scars under his eye. "The Enemy has her hidden away but the protection is weak. Bring her to me, I will allow you to figure out how. Do not fail me, Solomon." The Cold Man held his left hand out, on his ring finger was an ivory ring carved in the same manner as Solomon's pocket watch.
Solomon dropped to his knees again and kissed the ice cold ring. After a few seconds he could no longer feel the coldness on his lips and the darkness in the carriage had faded. The clock on the wall still chimed its mid-day chorus. The Cold Man was gone and all that was left of him was the frosted glass and the two papers on the desk.
Solomon rang a bell on the wall and quickly after his butler appeared through the sliding door of the carriage.
"How may I be of service?" The butler asked as he stood in his pressed black tails.
Solomon walked to the pile of papers on the floor and found a blank page. He quickly wrote a single line message.
Find The Kid and Big Red
"Handle this, discreetly." Solomon said as he handed his butler the note.
Reading the message the butler responded, "It will be done, Mr. Northrum."