The Prophet of Queens

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The Prophet of Queens Page 38

by Glenn Kleier


  He opened his eyes to find himself on his couch in the daylight of his window, Homer sitting on his chest.

  A last growl of thunder rolled through the apartment, and as Scotty’s head cleared and the sound faded, he realized he’d just missed his afternoon session with Ariel, too.

  Chapter 91

  October 26, 2:11 pm, Talawanda

  “We were fools letting him overnight down there,” Max snapped, glaring out the tent door.

  The second run of the day just ended, and still no word from Scott Butterfield. Albeit, the team knew he was back from the City. They’d seen updated archives of his arrival at JFK, including Ivy being apprehended by her father. Discord in the family. Had that drama impacted their Plan?

  Ariel was at the table in angel mode, all dressed up, and no Butterfield. A videochat window sat dormant on her screen, and finally she clicked out of it to expose beneath a new/old Times article from four years ago. A photo showed Butterfield shaking hands with Roger Filby. Not only had he disobeyed the Lord’s command to avoid politicians, he’d sided with the enemy for the whole world to see. And then skipped his last two sessions with Ariel.

  “What do we do if he’s quit us?” Tia cried. “We’re screwed.”

  “The hell we are,” Max said. “There are four PhDs in this room,” he paused to glance at Ariel. “Three. And we’re gonna let a Bronx College dropout beat us? A week till Thornton releases that damned tape. It’s time for some fire and brimstone.”

  Ariel didn’t know what he had in mind, but it couldn’t be good.

  Stan said, “Let’s give him one more chance.”

  Ariel and Tia agreed, and Max snapped, “His last chance. 10:00 tomorrow. He shows, or we go Wrath of God on him.”

  And he stormed out of the tent.

  Chapter 92

  Monday, October 27, 8:36 am

  Endicott, Percy & Moore Communications

  Kassandra sat outside the office of Franklin Percy in a knot, staring at the brass nameplate on the man’s door. She could hear muffled voices inside. Loud at times, if unintelligible.

  This was her first visit to what employees here at Endicott, Percy & Moore called Valhalla, an opulent penthouse suite of glass, brushed-steel, and fine art. Percy’s secretary sat at a desk nearby, fielding constant phone calls. Yesterday, while Kassandra was working at her desk, the secretary had hand-delivered an envelope to her with a cryptic note that kept her up last night:

  Franklin Percy’s office, tomorrow, 8:00 AM, sharp.

  Kassandra had arrived early, only to be informed that a prior meeting was running late. She’d spent the last hour trying to stifle her anxiety.

  At last, Percy’s door opened and a train of sobersided department heads filed out, intern supervisor Shonda among them. She paid Kassandra a slicing glare as she passed. Moments later, the secretary’s phone buzzed, and she told Kassandra, “Your turn.”

  Kassandra rose on balky legs, smoothed her second-hand designer dress, inhaled, and slipped through the door into a room with a panoramic view of the city. The walls were filled with oil paintings by modern masters, some of which Kassandra recognized. Percy sat at a glass and steel desk, a dozen empty chairs facing him. He looked every inch a giant of his industry, diminutive stature notwithstanding. Thick hair swept back, gray and distinguished, rimless glasses, finely tailored suit. He was signing papers, and said without looking up, “Close the door, take a chair.”

  Kassandra did as told, and momentarily Percy straightened, tugged his glasses down his nose, and stared over them to regard Kassandra blankly.

  “All right, Ms. Kraft, brass tacks. Your Prophet’s trip to Tennessee was a disaster for us. It moved the polls—now Filby leads Shackleton in all key states. I want to know what’s going on, and I warn you, the whole story.”

  Kassandra moistened her lips to deliver rehearsed lines. “Like I told Shonda yesterday, the Filby thing was unplanned. Butterfield had no warning, they blindsided him. It was no more than a handshake, I don’t care what the Filby campaign says—”

  “You met with Butterfield after he returned?”

  “Yes sir, last night.” Finally, after Butterfield ignored her all day.

  “And still he hasn’t set a date to meet Shackleton?”

  Kassandra had no answer, and Percy sat back in his chair. “On account of your assurances,” he said, “this firm went out on a limb. I personally stuck my neck out. Shackleton agreed to a meeting, and you leave us hanging.” His eyes boiled. “You’ve no idea the damage we face.”

  She held up a trembling hand. “I give you my word, I’ll get the meeting.”

  “When?”

  “I have a plan. I’m still working out details, I need more time.”

  “The election’s a week away.”

  Kassandra lowered her eyes, and after an uncomfortable silence, Percy exhaled and said, “Tell me your plan. Spare me nothing. And make no mistake, young lady, this is your last shot.”

  Chapter 93

  Monday, October 27, 9:51 am, Queens

  Scotty slumped in front of his computer, picking at a soggy bowl of cereal. In minutes, he’d face Angel Ariel once more, having failed to acquire the mysterious videotape from Reverend Thornton. Then aggravating the problem by missing his last two sessions with Ariel.

  The Lord would not be happy.

  Homer hopped into Scotty’s lap, startling him.

  Jeez, dude, you’re as jumpy as me on a hot tin roof.

  Scotty scratched the cat’s head, and sighed. “Day of reckoning. Cross your claws the Lord’s feeling merciful this morning.”

  Just do like the guru says, be positive. You followed the Lord’s orders best you could, why should He go Armageddon on you? Make your case to Ariel, she’ll run interference for you.

  Hopefully. Scotty did sense sympathy from the angel.

  Ariel. Such a strange, alluring creature. He’d seen misgivings in her from the very beginning. It seemed she didn’t want to be a Paraclete any more than Scotty wanted to be a Prophet. As if she were a pawn in all this, too, same as him, caught in the same trap. Helpless. Expendable.

  Scotty was lost in thought when he felt Homer’s eyes.

  The cat gave him a sly grin. You’re sweet on her, aren’t you?

  “What? Who?”

  Come on, bro, Ariel. I’ve seen the way you look at her.

  Scotty frowned. “How do I look at her, smart ass?”

  Like a puppy dog. You don’t look at Kassandra the same way, now do you?

  “How do I look at Kassandra?”

  Like a wolf.

  Scotty blinked. “That’s, that’s nuts. Ariel isn’t human. She isn’t even alive. She might as well be a, a, a, a cloud—”

  He broke off, struck by his own analogy. In fact, Ariel was a cloud. A vapor, a spirit that would vanish from Scotty’s life once his role in the Lord’s business was over. If he survived. Ariel and her penetrating gaze, lost to the ethers, never to be seen again. In this lifetime.

  Suddenly thunder pealed inside the room, and Homer fled. Scotty rubbed his thighs, wiped his eyes, and turned a heavy heart to his monitor as the noises played out.

  Once more he experienced that familiar rush as the angel materialized on screen. She said nothing, brow in a scintillating frown.

  Worry, or anger?

  Scotty began, “Sorry about missing the sessions. Pop grabbed Ivy at the airport when—”

  “The tape? Did you get the tape?”

  “I, I’m afraid we have a problem.”

  He watched her clasp her hands, and thought he heard a male voice swear in the background. He pressed on. “I did exactly what you told me. I even used the Covenant, but I hit a hurdle. It’s not that Thornton won’t hand over the tape, he can’t.”

  “For heaven’s sake, why not?”

  “The election. Thornton says Filby and Shackleton are too close in the swing state polls, and unless Filby pulls into a safe lead, Thornton’s sworn to take the tape public.”
/>   “Sworn to whom?”

  “A Council of religious leaders. They think the tape holds the key to Filby winning.”

  Ariel looked confused.

  “A tiny setback,” Scotty assured. “All the Lord has to do is raise Filby’s poll numbers in the three swing states, and Thornton will surrender the tape.”

  “Raise them to what?”

  “Fifty-four percent, by this Sunday morning.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Not for the Lord.”

  Scotty thought he heard a male voice again, and Ariel said, “Why did you meet with Roger Filby? You violated the Lord’s trust. You’ve made matters worse.”

  “I had no idea he’d be there, I swear. He ambushed me.”

  Ariel seemed distraught, glancing around. “The Lord is not pleased. I’ll get back to you at 2:00 with his judgment. Do nothing more till you hear from me. Give me your word.”

  Scotty promised, and she signed off.

  A temporary stay of execution.

  He sat silent as the noises returned and left. Then came a knock at his door, and he dragged to the peephole to see Kassandra, an anxious, determined glint in her eyes.

  Chapter 94

  October 27, 10:11 am, Talawanda

  Ariel ended her session with Butterfield, and Max flung his antenna to the floor.

  “Is there nothing that idiot can’t screw up?” he stormed.

  Tia said, “There’s got to be a way we can boost Filby’s poll numbers. How hard can it be? Look at the bump Filby got just shaking Butterfield’s hand. We get them to sit down together—”

  Max snarled, “Drive Filby’s numbers any higher, he’ll win again anyway, tape or not.”

  “Not necessarily,” Stan said. “Assuming history repeats, Shackleton will crush Filby in the final debate and retake the lead.”

  Max threw up his hands. “The debate is Saturday night. You heard what Butterfield said, the Council will rule on the tape Sunday morning. No way they’ll give it up after the drubbing Filby takes in the debate. Either we get it before the debate, or it’s all over.”

  Quiet. Then Tia said, “Why not let Butterfield present the Covenant to Thornton’s Council?”

  “Give them that Covenant,” Max snapped, “they’ll run to the media faster than you can say God endorses Filby. Filby won’t just win, he’ll coattail both chambers of Congress in a landslide.”

  Ariel suggested, “Scott can swear the Council to silence. They’re men of the cloth, after all.”

  “Yeah—the same pious men who want to tar Shackleton with that tape. I guarantee you, when Filby tanks in the debate, their cloth will leak like a sieve.”

  “It won’t matter once we’ve got the tape,” Tia countered. “If the Council breaks its word, we’ll make Butterfield come out for Shackleton. Who will voters listen to, Thornton and his cronies, or the infallible Prophet of Queens?”

  That gave Max pause.

  Stan added, “Unless you’ve got a better idea, it’s a chance we’ve got to take. And whatever we do, we better do it fast. There was another Timequake last night, the biggest yet.”

  The three looked at Max, and at length, he swore and said, “All right, all right. But the way Butterfield’s bungled things, we don’t dare trust him with this. Thornton knows best how to deal with his Council, let him present the Covenant.”

  Chapter 95

  Monday, October 27, 1:54 pm, Queens

  Scotty sat at his computer staring at a blank videochat window, waiting for Ariel to arrive and render a verdict on his failed Mission. He’d no idea what to expect, but surely not to be released from his duties with the job unfinished.

  A loud knock at his door rattled him, and he swore. Kassandra again, no doubt. The woman was impossible. Three times today she’d come by pleading to talk, and each time he’d turned her away without opening the door, insisting he was busy. After Ariel’s warning to do nothing until further orders, and with the Lord already angry, Scotty was taking no chances.

  The knock came again, louder, and a familiar voice piped, “Let me in, will ya?”

  Scotty hurried over and flung wide the door to see Ivy in her school uniform.

  “What are you doing here?” he cried.

  She popped in, closed the door, and wrapped him up. “I woulda come sooner, but I couldn’t shake my truant officer. Had to crawl out a bathroom window.”

  Scotty could only imagine the hell the old man would unleash on him this time.

  Ivy shucked her things, eyeing him with a grin. “Appears the Lord didn’t smite you after all.”

  “Not yet. I missed both sessions yesterday—long story, not important. When finally I reported to Ariel this morning, she said the Lord was pissed.” Scotty glanced at the clock. “And I’m about to find out how bad.”

  Another knock at the door gave them both a start.

  Ivy stopped Scotty with a hand, whispering, “It could be Pop!” She tiptoed over, leaned into the peephole, and made a sour face. “That vamp from down the hall.”

  Scotty whispered back, “Ariel will be here soon, get rid of her.”

  Ivy chained the door and opened it a crack. “Yes?”

  Scotty heard Kassandra’s lilting voice, “Scott, please.”

  “He’s busy,” Ivy replied.

  “But I have to speak to him, it’s very important.” She tried to push in, chain preventing her.

  “Leave a message,” Ivy said.

  Manicured fingers thrust an envelope through the crack.

  “It’s urgent. Can I trust you to give it to him right away?”

  Ivy snatched the envelope and sniffed, “He’ll get back to you,” and slammed the door.

  Just in time. The thunder rolled, and Ivy and Scotty grabbed chairs at his computer.

  Chapter 96

  October 27, 2:00 pm, Talawanda

  Again Ariel sat at the table in the tent under the lights, inhaling the scent of warm canvas. The wormhole opened, and Max inserted an antenna, awakening the videochat on Ariel’s laptop. Stan stood ready with a grabber pole to retrieve the rabbit’s foot, and next to him, Tia smiled her encouragement to Ariel, giving her a thumbs-up.

  Ariel returned a sober nod. With Time closing in, her hopes for their moon landing had all but evaporated. It now came down to a long shot—Thornton prying the tape from his Council with the crowbar of the Covenant. To lend Ariel added leverage today, Max was having her apply a desperate, heavy-handed tactic that made her all the more uncomfortable.

  Digging deep, she watched Scott Butterfield appear on screen, and froze to see his sister beside him. It seemed the girl had escaped her father again. An unexpected curve. Ivy would not welcome a Covenant intended to throw the election to Filby.

  Ariel mouthed to her teammates in panic, “Ivy.”

  Max went livid, mouthing back, “Get her the hell out of there!”

  Ariel greeted the Butterfields in a fret. “I, I didn’t expect to see you here, Ivy.”

  “And miss the final act?”

  “Scott’s Mission isn’t over, not till he’s in possession of the tape. The Lord has new instructions for him, and they’re confidential. I must ask you to leave this session.”

  Ivy stiffened. “What am I, second class? Why haven’t I earned the Lord’s trust, too?”

  Scott bent forward. “Ivy has as much at stake in this as I do. She has a right to know.”

  His eyes were adamant, and Ariel looked to the team. Stan and Tia looked to Max, and Max swore, looked at the clock, bared his teeth, and waved Ariel on.

  Ariel took a long breath and turned back to the screen. “The Lord has come to a decision,” she said. “Given Reverend Thornton’s oath to his Council about the tape, the Lord has decided to extend His Covenant to them, also. The terms remain the same: the Council must surrender the tape immediately.

  “In return…” the words stuck in Ariel’s throat, “the Lord will grant Roger Filby victory in the coming election. After which, Reverend Thornton, hi
s Council and their churches shall prosper in the blessings of the Lord, forevermore.”

  Ivy’s mouth fell open, and Ariel pressed on. “But the Covenant comes with a warning. If for any reason the Council fails to deliver the tape to Scott before 10:00 AM this Saturday, November 1st, not only will Filby lose the election,” Ariel faltered again, “the, the Lord will bring down His Wrath upon the entire Council and their churches, and all shall fall to ruin.”

  Now Scott’s jaw dropped. He and Ivy exchanged alarmed looks, and he asked, “What if the Council refuses to see me? The reverend says they rarely meet, and only in private.”

  “That’s not an issue. The reverend, alone, is to present the terms to his Council. Your only duty now, Scott, is to inform him of the Lord’s decision, report his progress to me at our sessions, and await the tape. Beyond that, you’re to remain in seclusion and talk to no one. Once you have the tape, I’ll deliver final instructions, and your Mission will be over.”

  The Butterfields gaped at Ariel, and she hastened to add, “The Lord thanks you for your time and services, for which He will soon bestow a great blessing upon you both.”

  That didn’t seem to placate them, and Ariel asked, “Are there any other questions?”

  Scott snapped, “As a matter of fact, yes. Is it asking too much to know the point of all this?”

  Ariel saw Max mouth No! But she felt she owed the man a response.

  “The point,” she replied, “is to save the country from a Dark turn of events. Success of the Lord’s final Mission will ensure a far brighter future for all.”

  The Butterfields seemed to mull that. Then Scott said, “And what about Ivy and me? What becomes of us once the Lord’s finished? You know our future, tell us.”

  Flashing into Ariel’s mind was the fire in the man’s building nine days away, destined to take his life, his sister’s, and neighbors’. To forewarn him was the “great blessing” the Lord would bestow. But to tell him now was to risk spooking him at this critical juncture, which Max underscored with frantic shakes of the head.

 

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