The Sopron Pursuit

The sun dipped low over the vineyards of western Hungary, casting long shadows across the rolling hills. In the small town of Sopron, nestled near the Austrian border, time seemed to flow more slowly. That was, until the quiet of the evening was shattered by the sound of screeching tires.

Eszter Nagy, a former military intelligence officer turned private investigator, slammed the brakes of her sturdy Jeep as a figure darted onto the cobblestone street. Heart pounding, she stepped out to find a young man sprawled in the road, clutching a leather satchel. His face was pale, eyes wide with terror.

“Help me,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.

Before Eszter could respond, the roar of engines grew louder. Two black SUVs barreled into view, their tinted windows hiding any sign of the occupants. Instinct took over. Eszter helped the man to his feet and shoved him into the passenger seat of her car. She barely had time to register the satchel before accelerating away, leaving the SUVs struggling to navigate the narrow streets.

“Who are you?” Eszter demanded, glancing at the man as she sped toward the outskirts of town.

“Miklós,” he whispered. “They can’t get it.” He clutched the satchel tighter.

“What is ‘it’?”

“No time to explain. Just drive.”

Eszter gritted her teeth. She had no idea who Miklós was, but something told her the men in those SUVs weren’t looking for a friendly chat. The chase led them to the Austrian border, where they narrowly avoided capture by slipping through a little-used mountain pass. Eszter knew these routes well, having explored them during her archaeological fieldwork.

--

The journey took them west, deeper into Austria. Miklós remained tight-lipped, his eyes darting nervously to the rearview mirror. Eszter, frustrated but curious, eventually pulled into a quiet inn on the outskirts of Feldkirch, near the Austrian-Swiss border. Inside, the warm glow of the firelight contrasted with the icy tension between them.

“Now,” Eszter said firmly, “explain.”

Miklós hesitated, then placed the satchel on the table. From within, he drew a bundle wrapped in faded cloth. As he unraveled it, Eszter gasped. There, glinting under the dim light, was an intricately engraved golden disk.

“This is the Nebra Sky Disk,” Miklós said. “Or, at least, a fragment of its twin.”

Eszter’s academic instincts took over. The Nebra Sky Disk was one of the oldest known depictions of the cosmos, discovered in Germany decades ago. If what Miklós said was true, this fragment could rewrite history.

“Where did you find it?” she asked, her voice hushed with awe.

“My father uncovered it while excavating near Sopron. But someone else found out… people who will kill to possess it.” His voice broke. “They’ve already…” He trailed off, staring into the fire.

Eszter’s mind raced. The fragment’s significance was staggering. But it also explained why dangerous men were after Miklós. Before she could process further, the innkeeper’s voice interrupted them.

“Guests, you have visitors.”

Their eyes met in alarm. Eszter grabbed the disk and stuffed it back into the satchel. Miklós led her through the back exit as footsteps echoed in the hallway. Outside, the crisp mountain air burned her lungs as they sprinted toward the woods.

--

For the next two days, Eszter and Miklós moved stealthily across the Austrian countryside, evading their pursuers. The satchel became both a burden and a lifeline. Every time they thought they’d lost the SUVs, the men would reappear, relentless and silent as wolves.

By the time they reached the Swiss border, Eszter’s nerves were frayed. Miklós had grown increasingly pale, his strength waning. They crossed into Switzerland under cover of darkness, seeking refuge in a remote chalet owned by one of Eszter’s university contacts, a Swiss historian named Max Keller.

Max was intrigued by their story and horrified by their pursuers. He examined the fragment and confirmed its authenticity, explaining that it could indeed be linked to the original Nebra Sky Disk. But the mystery deepened when he revealed a secret.

“There are legends of a second disk,” Max said. “One meant to guide travelers through the heavens, while the original described the stars. Together, they were said to unlock… something. But no one knows what.”

“Unlock what?” Eszter pressed.

Max shrugged. “A treasure? Knowledge? It’s anyone’s guess. What’s certain is that someone believes it’s worth killing for.”

As if on cue, the sound of engines shattered the stillness. The SUVs had found them.

--

The attack was swift and brutal. Men in dark clothing stormed the chalet, their faces obscured by masks. Eszter and Miklós barely managed to escape through a back window, clutching the satchel as gunfire rang out. Max stayed behind, buying them precious seconds to flee.

The chase led them to the Rhine River, where Eszter spotted a small motorboat moored along the bank. Desperation fueled her as she hotwired the engine, and they sped downstream, the SUVs’ headlights fading into the distance. For the first time in days, there was a moment of quiet.

“We can’t keep running,” Eszter said, her voice trembling. “We need to go back to Hungary and end this.”

Miklós nodded weakly. “But how?”

“We make them believe the fragment is destroyed,” she said, an idea forming in her mind. “And we find out who’s behind this.”

--

The journey back to Hungary was perilous. Eszter contacted an old colleague, András, who had connections in Budapest’s underground. He arranged a meeting with someone who could “deal” with the fragment. The rendezvous was set for the outskirts of Sopron, where the ordeal had begun.

Under cover of night, Eszter and Miklós returned to the town. András’ contact, a wiry man named László, agreed to help. Together, they devised a plan. A replica of the fragment was created and planted in a location where their pursuers would find it—and destroy it—thinking their prize lost forever.

But the plan required bait. Eszter volunteered, despite Miklós’s protests. She lured the SUVs to the decoy site, her heart pounding as she confronted the masked men. As they smashed the replica, she feigned despair, convincing them the fragment was gone. When they finally retreated, Miklós and László swooped in to rescue her.

--

The danger wasn’t completely over, but the immediate threat had passed. Back in Sopron, Eszter and Miklós parted ways. The real fragment was hidden in a secret vault at the university, where it would be studied and preserved.

As Eszter watched Miklós disappear into the morning mist, she felt a pang of sadness. Their journey had changed her—opened her eyes to the lengths people would go for power, and the resilience required to protect the truth.

She turned toward her car, the quiet of the town settling around her once more. But this time, she knew it was only a matter of time before the past came calling again.