Mattix reappeared with the team shortly after their coordinates were translated across their tethers. He’d just finished getting reacquainted with Blackbeard, an old nemisis, that somebody thought would be perfect as Thomas Jefferson’s assassin. Mattix got the satisfaction of making sure Blackbeard perished drunk and brawling, like all pirates were meant to die.
Sadly, he wasn’t very stealthy with his autochron. The brilliant purple flash alerted the base, but by the time the guards arrived Murdoch had punched his teammate in the face, forcing him onto his knees and reassured them that they had the situation under control.
Mattix was disappointed it was the pretty side of his face that was punched.
The three of them escorted their “prisoner” into the warehouse and through the rip in space time, right into the lap of luxury. The room was heavily guarded, bu thanks to their impersonator meshes the guards only waved them forward to deliver their prisoner to a jail cell.
Through the halls they wandered, realizing their culprit was a multi-gazillionaire with a penchant for collecting the pretty things: priceless vases, paintings, people, and of course nuclear weapons.
“This Chen’s the deal, isn’t he?” mused Murdoch as they walked past a pool where strikingly handsome male models and strikingly beautiful female models were swimming. It was like watching live action Kens and Barbies.
The view was fantastic from here. All of Dubai was hundreds of stories below them, spread out like a shining canvas. While this wasn’t the largest building, they’d still rank this as one of the most beautiful.
Suddenly, it was either the long hallways of nukes ahead of them, or the Nazis, that sobered the crew. Two Nazi soldiers from a bygone era stood guard outside of the museum wing, in freshly pressed uniforms bearing the infamous swastika.
As they moved forward, Murdoch casually grabbing a lamp and Model-3417 extending its autochron into a staff, the Nazis barely looked at them. Murdoch cracked one’s skull open with the lamp, and the android smacked the autochron across the other’s scalp.
It danced for a moment, kicking the soldier repeatedly, swearing at him, and jabbing the pole through the Nazi’s eye socket in a murderous celebration, while everyone watched with mixed feelings of dread, horror, and a feeling that they had erred in their own behavior before their robotic compatriot.
It looked to them for approval, “Good?”
Up ahead, down the museum corridor past countless nuclear weapons, they could hear the voices of two familiar time traveling Nazis: Heinrich and Helga Von Brandt. The din metallic synthesized voice could be heard conversing with them.
These Nazis were trouble. Usually their men didn’t go down so easily because of the dark magic locked within the occult charms the Von Brandts gifted them with. Mattix stole one as he hid the bodies, knowing things were going to get messy.