The Baroness, Part 6
“Who says I’m a totally lame villain?”
Akiko Masamune’s cargo jet, over the Pacific; 3:30 a.m.
Her Excellency, the Baroness Elizabeth von Zemo, squirmed on the hard, narrow seat in the tiny passenger cabin of the Yakuza jet. It was bad enough that the passenger facilities were so spartan, but she was still so excited that she couldn’t sleep. Underneath the cabin were over 7,000 pounds of monetary gold, daringly stolen from the vaults of the Federal Reserve Bank of Parodiopolis only hours before, and there was no one she could gloat to. Just as her eyes began to close and a yawn began to creep up her throat, however, a ghostly white figure began hovering in front of her, passing back and forth through the bulkhead.
“Elizabeth. Elizabeth. Hear me, mein Kind.”
The Baroness’ eyes snapped open and the utterly predictable shock from being addressed by a white fog of ectoplasm occurred. The ghost waited patiently for the traditional stutters, stammers and aimless queries to be completed, and then went on in a stereotypical Junker accent. “We will handle this meeting in proper Order, and avoid all of the usual inane questions. I am your grandfather, the Baron Ottokar Attila Kublai Tamerlane von Zemo. I met your grandmother, Fanny Dewdrop, at a séance in Heidelberg and fell in love with her, probably as a side effect of some potions with which I was experimenting. When I came to my senses two months later, I dismissed her. Unfortunately, the invasion of Poland was imminent and I was unable to prevent her pregnancy from continuing.
It appears, however, that you did not inherit all of your grandmother’s simpering idealism, and that some semblance of the Zemo intelligence and breeding has come down to you.”
“Thank you, er, grandfather . . . .”
“You will refrain from addressing me until I grant you permission. When you do, you will address me as Grandfather Baron von Zemo, in keeping with our family’s law. I spent most of the war in Rumania. As is well known, my brother Heinrich, your Great-Uncle Baron von Zemo, applied his technological gifts for the benefit of the Reich and his own drive towards world domination. I too had gifts – gifts for the occult. I found myself discovering a path to an entirely new form of humanity, the ‘unalive.’ After all, we have the alive, the dead and the undead; why wouldn’t there be a fourth variation of human, the unalive, with powers and abilities we could harness?
“Unfortunately, my researches went awry and I became merely dead. Still, my knowledge of the occult enabled me to remain on earth as an ordinary ghost, and occasionally to help my soppy excuse for a Zemo’s wife and our weakling son in America after the war. And so now I have you, my only grandchild, who at least has enough Zemo blood to think about regaining her rightful inheritance – the world. Or perhaps it is the influence of your mother. Whichever it is, here you are, flying above the clouds with almost 33 million American dollars in gold, stolen from the American government’s own central bank. I could almost be proud. You may now ask me why I am not.”
“All right, Grandfather Baron von Zemo, if that’s what you are, why are you not proud of me?”
“Because you are flying to Akiko Masamune to split the gold with her, as you promised. Even though the Japanese were the Reich’s loyal allies, no true Zemo partners with anyone, except for tactical advantage ending in ultimate betrayal. As villainous behavior goes, your dutiful sharing of half the gold with her is, is . . . ach, wie sagt’s . . . .”
“Totally lame?”
“SILENCE! Do NOT interrupt me, granddaughter. As I was about to say, your adherence to the terms of your agreement is, er, totally lame. A less spineless granddaughter would take ALL of the gold. You may now recite whatever sniveling excuse you may have for your behavior.”
“It’s fitting that you decided to meet me up here,” replied Beth, “because your head is completely in the clouds. How would I steal three and one-half tons of gold when every minion and thug doing the work is missing at least one of his fingers? Why would I weigh myself down with tons of gold, when I couldn’t afford anywhere to put it? And why leave it in the United States for the authorities to chase after? Your problem, Grandfather Baron von Zemo, is that you spend so much time thinking about the past and that voodoo you offed yourself with that you can’t plan your way out of a crypt. Get out of my way, and come back only when you are ready to work with me instead of barking orders at me as if I’m some chambermaid from Zemodorf.”
“You do show some promise, after all,” the ghost said as he faded away. “I will be watching your progress with considerable interest.”
‘Yes, and I’ll be watching ghosts like you on the late show,” Elizabeth muttered.
The private dining room of the “Eternal Prozac” restaurant [1], Hong Kong, early the next afternoon.
Elizabeth and Akiko Masamune had just finished their birds’ nest soup and were waiting for their next course. Servants in white obi’s gently washed their fingers with fine linen towels in anticipation of the next exquisite dish.
“I was getting a little concerned about you, Beth,” Akiko said. “I heard that you were talking to yourself on the plane, and I was wondering if my people had disturbed you in some way.”
“No, not at all, Akiko. And please remember I now prefer ‘Elizabeth.’ ‘Beth’ is so pedestrian, after all.” The Baroness was hardly surprised that the Yakuza chieftainess had bugged her seat, but Akiko’s brazenness in mentioning it still had given her a start.
“Of course, Elizabeth.” Akiko laid the tiniest amount of stress on the name, as if to mock her companion. “But did whatever you were talking about have anything to do with your decision to deliver your half of the gold to Mr. Chen as soon as you arrived at the airport?”
“Hardly, Akiko. The sale had been arranged for days. I don’t like loose ends, especially when they might get in the way of enjoying such an exquisite meal as this one.”
“Why, thank you, Baroness. You’re too kind. Look, here comes the ‘Graceful Fruits of the Earth’ salad for us.” Along with the servers, though, a white-garbed woman was bringing a silver tray containing a neon-pink cellphone for Akiko.
Akiko warned her minion in Japanese.
ool-43570953.dyn.optonline.net (67.87.9.83) U.S. Network
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