UNDERCOVER on the TITANIC (book 1)

Part 22 - Murga

'So, Erich,' Murga asked with menacing impatience. 'Vot about Ziff Dion?'

My chest heaved and my heart seemed to stop.

'He's at Silverwood School,' Mr Bragg mumbled. 'He knows nothing.'

'Ein shtupid kid,' Murga ageed contemptuously. 'But, I don't vont to lose him.'

'I promise,' Mr Bragg babbled nervously. 'I will not lose him.'

After a moment Murga hissed, 'Vun ozder matter. Did you see zdat verdammt käseschnitzer, Onderdonk?'

Mr Bragg mumbled something then Murga added, 'I find out he is a Time Agency spy. Zo I haf no choice. He is curtailed definitively . . . Pity . . . I ruined a goot suit.'

'His suit!' Mr Bragg exclaimed. 'What if the police find the body?'

'Har, har.' Murga laughed. 'Not his suit. Mine suit.   Har, har.   His body decorates a pingo in Nunavut*.   (* a hill on the permafrost in Canada's far north.)

If police find it, zdey vill tink he is vell preserved, six hundert year old man. Har, har.'My knees went weak with shock. Murga had killed Triple Oh!

Murga's voice dropped to a menacing hiss. 'I must finish zdis kronog, zo I can get back. Erich, don't vaste anymore of my time, Aay?' The final "eh?" was a parody of a Canadian accent, as if he had rehearsed it to deceive an immigration officer.

I ducked behind the overshoes as Mr Bragg stumbled through the door and scurried toward the checkout. He looked terrified. I would have felt sorry for him but I was horrified about Onderdonk's death.

A sizzling noise started up behind the partially open door and a brilliant blue light cast flickering shadows among the racks of produce. A part of my brain was telling me to get out of the store fast, but curiosity won.  I stumbled through a clutter of empty boxes and looked through a gap in the door.

It was a walk-in freezer lit by a fluorescent lamp illuminating several animal carcasses dangling from an overhead conveyor. A strange odour filled the air, a mixture of freezer smell and chlorine. There was no sign of Murga. The intense flickering light came from behind a partition making everything seem sharper, brighter, surreal. I had a feeling I ought to know what it was.

I stepped into the room and almost tripped over a man curled up in the corner. I recoiled in horror thinking he was dead but he moved slightly and then I saw his arms and legs were tied. He wore a dirty, torn parka, padded trousers and well-worn boots. The parka hood covered his head and tape had been wrapped around his heavily bearded face covering his mouth. I reached out gingerly and put two fingers to his neck. He had a strong carotid pulse and seemed to be breathing normally. I shook him gently. 'Are you all right?'

He turned his head as his eyes flickered open and looked at me vaguely. I stood up so fast, I almost fell over in shock. The dirty, scruffy man was my missing father.

'Dad,' I gasped, 'it's me, Ziff . . .  How did you get here?'

He tried to speak but the tape prevented him. I looked around until I found a box cutter and carefully cut through the tape and his bindings. He sat up painfully, rubbing his wrists as he pulled the tape away from his mouth. 

'Ziff,' he croaked hoarsely, 'Murga caught me . . . trying to escape.'

I tried to help him stand up but he pushed me away and fell back. 'I can't walk . . . drugs.'

'Dad. You've got to tell me what is happening.'

'I shifted the nexus location,' he mumbled indistinctly. 'Murga had to fix it . . . He'll be back any moment . . . Go . . . get help.'

I ran to the check out counter where the clerk was arguing with a customer. 

 'Please call the police. 911,' I panted. 'There's a man in the freezer. He's been attacked.'

The checkout gorilla lifted one earphone away from his ear and glared at me. 'In duh frizzer?' he asked suspiciously. 'Vot is wrong?   Vee don't 'av' men in duh frizzer.'

'Please call,' I pleaded. 'It's urgent.'

He reluctantly picked up a cell phone and tapped 911. 'Oy vont police. Galactic Deli on Roo Bonk Street . . . Da . . . Bonk Street . . . Da.    Ottawa . . . Da . . . Capital of Canada.    Man is attacked.'

'You mean Bank Street,' told him.'

Da . . . Dat is vot I yust said . . . Bonk Street.'

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