Panthera Spelaea

The plane descended through the high clouds over the open ocean. I could see land ahead through the twilight glow behind us and to the left. Nowhere in Germany was the ocean to the east of the land, nor was Germany the arid mountains he was seeing through the window. “I don’t know where the hell we are,” I said.

“I could turn a phone on,” Anna said.

“No. Marina was right, they can locate our phones. We’ll have to land and find out unless the pilots tell us.” I made sure the girls were buckled in as we made the approach to a small airport. There weren’t any big jets around, but plenty of executive jets like ours were tied down or in the open hangars. The landing was smooth, and I could see the signs were in Italian. “Italy? What are we doing here?”

The plane taxied towards the terminal and shut down. Finally, the cockpit door opened and the copilot came through. “Welcome to Sardinia, Italy,” he told us. We didn’t know offhand where that was, and he picked up on our confusion. “Sardinia is a large island off the west coast of Italy in the Tyrrhenian Sea. It is renowned for tourism and fishing.”

It didn’t make sense. “Are we continuing on, or transferring to another flight?”

“Neither one, really. We have to wait for Customs to come out, then you’ll be taken by helicopter to your final destination.”

I was still nervous. “What final destination?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Ekatarina did not tell us. We flew her to Moscow two days ago, and she told us to bring you here last night. She’s the boss, so we fly where and who we are told.”

An official-looking car pulled up, and the Customs agent boarded. We didn’t speak Italian, but he spoke English and we didn’t have anything to declare. When we handed him our papers, he caught the names but said nothing. He stamped our passports and wished us an enjoyable vacation, heading back out.

“Curious,” Svetlana said. “He knew who we are, but didn’t react to it.”

“He’s being paid for his discretion,” the pilot said as he joined us near the door. “He will enter your information into the Italian immigration computers in a few days. At small airports like this, things are done with paper, and paper sometimes gets misplaced.”

I guess that was one way to do it. I didn’t say more as we got off the plane. A black SUV parked nearby, so once again we were visible for only seconds before we were hidden behind tinted glass again. The copilot loaded our luggage, and we were off for the other end of the airport where a helicopter was warming up.

It wasn’t a big one, but it could carry the pilot, copilot, and four passengers. We buckled into the seats and put on the headsets, which muffled the noise of the engines and allowed the pilot to talk to us. He explained which button to use to talk to the pilots, and which to use to talk amongst ourselves. The copilot stowed our luggage, and minutes later we were in the air again. “It’s so beautiful,” Anna said as she looked out the window as we passed over the beach.

“Not as beautiful as my ladies,” I said to them as I looked out at the clear waters and cliffs dotted with luxury homes.

“Cheesy line,” Svetlana laughed. "You already talked us into your bed!"

“And I'm thrilled with the results,” I responded. We didn’t climb very high, moving fast over the sea and the boats. I pressed the button to contact the pilot. “Where are we headed?”

“On the horizon, the superyacht Elements,” he replied. I looked past the pilot to see the big white luxury yacht, which was cruising south along the coast.

“Holy shit,” I said as I looked at the big white ship. The girls leaned so they could see as well, their eyes getting big. “How long is she?”

“Eighty meters,” the pilot said. “We’ll be landing in two minutes. Keep your head down when you exit until you are clear of the blades.”

The helicopter landing area was on the bow, and the pilot skillfully moved over the pad and set the helicopter down perfectly. One of the white-uniformed crew members came forward to open the door and escort us out, while two others grabbed our luggage. As soon as we were clear, the pilot took off again, leaving us on the teakwood bow next to a small swimming pool with lounge areas on each side. “Welcome to the Motor Yacht Elements,” our escort, a beautiful blonde woman in her twenties, said as we turned back to her. “Please follow me. Your things will be taken to your stateroom.”

“We’re staying together,” I said.

“Naturally, sir. We’ve been informed of your preferences and the crew will do anything to make your stay more enjoyable. All crew members will be wearing a variation of this uniform,” she said as she led us towards the glass doors. I could see two decks above us, and I knew from our approach there was a deck below us that opened to the stern. I held hands with the girls as I followed her through the opulent rooms. The girl stopped at a door, knocking quietly. “Your guests are here, Mr. Karpen.”

“Bring them in.” She opened the door and waved for us to follow her, then left us and closed the door behind her. Opulent wasn’t the word to describe the office we were in; I’d never seen such over-the-top decorating. Everything was gold, marble, rich exotic wood, crystal, or glass. My parents were very wealthy, but this was ridiculous.

“Welcome, welcome,” Mr. Karpen said as he rose from his desk. He touched something and the computer screens and big monitors in the room disappeared into cabinets or behind panels. By the time he was shaking my hand, you couldn’t tell technology had ever touched this place. “Arten Karpen, but please call me Art.”

I knew he had to be rich, but Karpen was a mystery to the outside world. Karpen Investments was a major player in the oil and gas industry, but its owner was a known recluse. Even my father had never met him, and no one knew what he looked like. My grip tightened on his hand as my cat got his scent, and I looked into his eyes. Arten was a big Slavic man in his twenties, heavily muscled, with no neck to speak of under his black beard. His eyes were alive with excitement as he grabbed my shoulders to look at me. “Amazing. I did not believe Ekatarina when she told me, but it is true. You are one of us.”

It all clicked. “You are the bear switcher.”

“I am, and you are the switcher who was lost to time. Amazing. We had no idea it could survive for millennia, yet I can see the Cave Lion in you.”

I was forgetting my manners. “Art, may I introduce my fiance, Svetlana Sevastyano, and our future sister wife, Anna Kovalenko.”

Art greeted them like family in Russian, kissing each cheek and smiling. “Two beautiful ladies and already pregnant! You are quite the lion, John. So many surprises. Please, sit. We have much to talk about.” I sat on a couch with a girl on each side, while Art took a chair across from us. He pressed a button, and a uniformed server appeared. She offered coffee, juice and water, each of us taking our choice in the cups or glassware with the coat of arms from Karpen Investment’s logo. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

“Not yet. With the sudden travel and the secrecy, we didn’t have time.”

The server smiled at her boss. “Breakfast service is in thirty minutes on the salon deck, sir.” Art dismissed her, and she disappeared through a hidden doorway.

“Excellent. It’s a beautiful morning, and our Chef is the best.”

I took a sip of the coffee, needing the caffeine after a poor night of sleep. “I have many questions,” I told him.

“I expected you would. Ekatarina planned to fly to the States with you, but we had some issues after she visited you.”

“Issues? We left because Viktor was working to get my passport, or get me back in jail.”

Art set his drink down. “It was easy enough to have our people leak that story to the embassy, and Marina did her part to get you here.”

“Not Germany?”

“Germany was the story we gave the Embassy. Another jet left the airport minutes after yours, carrying one male and two female passengers listed as you and your girls, and heading for Munich. It won’t fool the Russian authorities for long, but it is enough to get you here. My people are discrete and loyal. No one will know where you are now, I promise you that.”

“You are working with Marina Federov?”

He nodded. “Of course. She’s a top-flight lawyer and my loving great-granddaughter.”