The Aftermath

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The Aftermath Page 15

by Patrick Higgins


  “Would you like me to carry those down to your car for you?”

  Jacquelyn shot a sideways look at Renate.

  “I insist,” Mulrooney said, noticing.

  An alarm went off inside Renate’s head. “Want me to come with you?”

  “No need. I’ll be right back.”

  Renate looked disapprovingly at her boyfriend, but now wasn’t the time for arguing. Brian would deal with her jealousy later. For now, he wanted to maximize every last-second he still had with Jacquelyn.

  Once outside, Brian glanced up. Sure enough, Renate was glued to the window watching their every move. He suddenly felt like a high schooler again.

  Jacquelyn leaned on the crutch under her left armpit and, using her right hand, unlocked the car and start the engine with the remote, then slowly climbed inside her truck.

  Say something! Say something! “Thanks for coming tonight, Jacquelyn. The meal was delicious.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, staring at the steering wheel.

  “Sorry about earlier.” Brian nudged his head up toward his apartment.

  “No need to apologize, Brian. I see Renate’s point.”

  “Me too. It’s just that…” Mulroney stopped.

  “Just that, what?”

  “I really hoped we could read the Bible together.”

  “Perhaps another time,” came the reply.

  “I also wanted to be there for you. You know, as a friend.”

  “You were there for me, Brian. And I appreciate it.”

  “If Renate wasn’t here, you wouldn’t be leaving now. To be honest, I wish she was leaving instead of you. But only because she wants nothing to do with anything spiritual.”

  Jacquelyn dropped her head without saying a word.

  Sensing her discomfort, Brian said, “If you need me for anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

  “I appreciate it, Brian.” Jacquelyn raised her head and looked him square in the eye. “I really do.”

  “When I’m in New York, there will be no one there to distract us, if you know what I mean. So please don’t hesitate to call or text me.”

  “Okay.”

  “I know it’s going to be a difficult week. Just know I’ll be praying for you.”

  Jacquelyn’s lip started quivering. Instinctively, Mulrooney leaned into the car and held her as she sobbed uncontrollably.

  After a while, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her coat and uttered a simple, “thank you.”

  When Jacquelyn drove off, Brian wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to see Renate downstairs waiting for him, arms folded across her chest, anxious to hear every-last detail.

  This was so unlike her. The woman Mulrooney fell in love with five years ago was quite confident, always vivacious and extremely comfortable in her own skin. She exuded none of those positive attributes now.

  But these weren’t normal times, and that meant Brian had to expect the unexpected from here on out, even from Renate...

  39

  IN MADRID SPAIN, SALVADOR Romanero watched President Danforth’s address, from inside a lofty stateroom at the castle of the King of Spain. It was 1:30 in the morning, Madrid time.

  Shortly before the American President addressed the world, Romanero was finally able to watch his speech from the night before. Like all other Spaniards, the young lawyer couldn’t watch it in real-time due to widespread communications difficulties in his country.

  As things slowly came back to life, President Danforth’s speech dominated the airwaves globally. World leaders watched with great interest to hear what he would say and what his next plan of action would be.

  In retrospect, Salvador Romanero wasn’t the slightest bit impressed with either speech. Both were fairly well written, but they lacked conviction. They were mere words only. And this meant the American leader was totally clueless about Saturday’s earth-shattering event.

  Even on TV, Romanero could tell President Danforth wasn’t a strong man. His eyes dictated that much. While he appeared more confident in his second address, he also had 24 hours to build up such confidence, fleeting as it was.

  A few short years ago, Salvador Romanero would have considered spending the night at the King’s castle the greatest of honors, but not now. He had much bigger things on his mind. Much like the meeting earlier with leaders of parliament, including Spain’s prime minister—whose official title was “President of the Government”—this meeting with the king was merely a formality, a waste of time, really, done only out of respect for the ailing king.

  Waiting for the king and his 48-year-old son, Prince Javier, to finish their meeting, Romanero knew the time for global leadership was finally at hand. Even President Danforth acknowledged that much in his address. But he gave no assurance whatsoever that he was capable of spearheading such a monumental task. Clearly, the American leader was too scared and too spineless to be that man.

  The world needed someone with fresh, bold ideas. Someone who could bring everyone together as one, instead of continually coddling the masses with wave after wave of false promises. Someone like me, Romanero thought, boasting to himself.

  In the morning, the young lawyer and a few other delegates would accompany the Prime Minister to Brussels, for the much-anticipated gathering of world leaders.

  The king also wanted to attend, but he was in the final stages of lung cancer. His days were numbered. His physician warned that if he journeyed to Belgium in the morning, it very well could be the last trip he ever took in this lifetime.

  Not that his presence was needed. Compared to an absolute monarchy where the king was the de facto ruler—like in Qatar or Saudi Arabia—Spain was a constitutional or parliamentary monarchy. This meant the King of Spain held no political office and had very limited powers, most of which were ceremonial in nature.

  In short, he was the figurative head of Spain and never interfered with the roles of government. Out of respect for the king, no one dared remind him that his presence wasn’t needed in Belgium.

  Prince Javier would travel to Brussels on his father’s behalf. Two other men would accompany him. Both were longtime leaders in the king’s storied regime and had the king’s complete trust. They would walk Prince Javier through the whole Summit process.

  But they had another “secret mission” to carry out in Brussels: namely to keep a close and steady eye on Spain’s rising superstar—Salvador Romanero.

  Deathbed or not, the king wanted to know every move he made.

  Thirty years young, Salvador Romanero could have easily been mistaken for a senior intern to one of Spain’s higher-ups. But his seemingly boundless wisdom more than made up for his youthful exuberance. The young man seemed to accomplish everything he did with the greatest of ease.

  Even more impressive was the character he exuded in the process. Anyone fortunate enough to spend time with him always came away feeling incredibly blessed.

  Unmarried, with no siblings, Romanero had it all—good looks, intelligence, talent, charisma and, according to those who knew him, a true servant’s heart. Not only that, the young lawyer had already mastered six languages by the time he was 25.

  On the surface, it was difficult not to like him.

  Romanero wasn’t overly muscular, but he was well-toned from countless years as an avid soccer player. Standing 5'8" in height, what stood out most were his dark brown eyes: they could easily pierce a person deep down to their soul. His hair was soft and dark brown. He had a well-proportioned face and near-perfect olive skin. It was hard to find a single blemish on the man.

  Well aware of how one’s image impacted others, his was about to impact the world.

  Leaders of Spain often wondered if Romanero was one of their ardent patriots, or was it all being done for notoriety sake? After all, he wasn’t purely of Spanish descent—Roman and Greek blood also coursed through his veins from his father’s side.

  Not only that, he practically came out of nowhere, quickly
capturing the hearts of so many Spaniards. Did he capture their loyalty too? It was the million-dollar question; one that greatly troubled Spain’s leaders long before the disappearances took place.

  Romanero first appeared on the king’s radar three years ago, just as Spain was pulling out of a long and difficult recession. During that time, faith in politicians, the royal family, and other institutions had greatly dwindled. No one did more to bolster the confidence of the people than Salvador Romanero.

  The practicing attorney from a fairly-small law-firm had a way of making his fellow countrymen and women believe everything would soon be okay. The fact that he did all these things on a voluntary basis, with no seat of leadership to speak of, made his followers love him all the more.

  Romanero steadily climbed the social and political ladders and quickly made a good name for himself. It wasn’t long before his name was mentioned in many upper echelon circles.

  Politically speaking, Salvador Romanero was a nobody outside of Spain. But some in Spain—citizen and government official alike—vowed to make him known throughout the land.

  It was a bitter pill for many in the know to swallow.

  Prior to the recession, the king knew so little about him. His initial response was, “Salvador who?” He wasn’t the only one...

  What Spain’s top brass were mostly concerned about was Romanero’s immense popularity on social media. In a time when most political figures were held in such low esteem, Romanero was practically worshiped like a Hollywood actor or a rock star, especially among the 30 and under demographic.

  Because of this, his popularity spread beyond Spain’s border, also spilling into Portugal, France, England, Germany, and Italy.

  But the internet wasn’t the main reason for Romanero’s growing popularity. Except for a few shadowy figures working behind the scenes, no one else in Spain knew that top leaders of a secret society were making all of this happen, slowly but steadily catapulting Salvador Romanero to the forefront of society, in the process.

  These men and women were very skilled at creating situations which demanded strong leadership, then placing people of their choosing at the right place at the right time.

  Even Spain’s recession was engineered by them, from start to finish. But this was nothing new. They’d been doing things like this the world over for centuries.

  Not only did this group have the power to create recessions anywhere in the world, they controlled stock markets and had the power to make war. In fact, most of the battles waged throughout history were started by them. They even had the technology to control the weather and create droughts when necessary.

  Their main goal was nothing short of world domination. All they needed was the perfect catastrophe to strike the planet and the world would freely accept global transformation. The laws for global dominance were already in place, had been for many decades; all they needed was the right crisis.

  A better tragedy couldn’t have befallen the planet. This was the sign they’d long awaited. As the world mourned, they rejoiced.

  In a perfect world, 80 percent of the population would have been killed in the aftermath, bringing the world population closer to their intended goal of just 500,000,000. But this was a good start.

  Now that the ball was rolling, so to speak, little by little the population would keep dwindling, bringing them steadily closer to their goal.

  In order to succeed with their lofty agenda, they needed to establish a one-world government and create a universal cash-less system. They wanted, needed, all transactions made on the planet to be monitored by them and no one else. Without a cash-less system, total control would be impossible to achieve.

  They also needed a good front man; someone who could win the hearts of most by using universal diplomacy. They searched the whole world over for many generations with no success.

  Then Salvador Romanero appeared on their radar screen. Though extremely young, he had an aura about him that no one else possessed. Whatever it was, they were unsure, but it oozed out of the man in such a way that it was impossible not to notice it.

  After a handful of top-secret interviews, Salvador Romanero was unanimously accepted into The Society. He was their man. Part of the grooming process since that time was connecting him to the right people, including the Pope.

  After several private meetings at Vatican City, a strong alliance was created between the two men. The Pope greatly admired Salvador Romanero and was committed to doing his part to open many doors for him and help prepare him for greatness.

  Not wanting any one religious group to obtain too much power and influence and knowing that all future roads led to the Middle East, more specifically, to Israel, the secret society also made sure that Romanero had strong ties to the Middle East, mostly with radical Islamic countries.

  “Sure, Romanero is an infidel,” said a well-known imam from Iran, “but what we have in common is our joint hatred of the Jews, and the shared belief that the Jews have no legitimate claim to Israel. If for only that reason, we will support this young man being touted by The Society, at least for now.”

  Once their long-awaited Mahdi (also known as the 12th Imam), was revealed, they would never support an infidel leader again. Their savior would usher in the final caliphate and establish Islam worldwide, mercilessly slaughtering all who wouldn’t convert to their religion.

  Then Allah would once and for all establish his rule in Jerusalem and the world would be theirs to rule. It was just a matter of time...

  What they didn’t know was that Salvador Romanero would soon rule over them with an iron fist, not the other way around. He, not the Pope, Allah, or any other gods, would be worshiped by the masses.

  Even the secret society working hard to elevate him would soon learn that he wasn’t the puppet all others before him were. With dark, supernatural forces pulling the strings behind the scenes, they had no shot at suppressing the rising superstar.

  Waiting in his stateroom, Salvador Romanero was starting to gain a clearer sense of his own destiny. It was right on the horizon. Soon, very soon, he’d be thrust into a global leadership role that stretched far beyond Spain.

  Citizens of the world were sick and tired of empty promises from boastful politicians. They needed someone who could lift them out from underneath the canopy of doom and gloom in which they were all trapped, and successfully lead them into the future.

  Romanero sipped his water. Who is like that now, President Danforth? Ha! I can see right through him. He is weak. Puny! Yes, the world is going to need a new leader. All their searching throughout the ages has produced mediocrity at best, save for a few people. But even they fell short of true greatness. But change is coming. Oh yes, things will soon change...

  Finally, after waiting more than five hours, there was a knock on the door. It was one of the king’s servants, informing that the meeting with the King and his son was over, and it was time for Romanero to join Prince Javier for dinner.

  “Please follow me,” the servant said. His face was aglow, unlike when he showed Romanero to his quarters earlier.

  Salvador shot him a sideways look and left it at that.

  That is, until Romanero joined Prince Javier at the table, and saw that he, too, was fully aglow. What’s going on?

  “Good evening, my lord,” Romanero said.

  Prince Javier took a sip of wine, “Please sit down.”

  Romanero did as he was instructed and took a seat opposite him.

  Sensing his curiosity, Prince Javier smiled. This was something he’d waited his entire adult life to say, “My father formally abdicated a few moments ago and passed the crown on to me.”

  A smile crossed Romanero’s face, “Wow! Congratulations, my lord!” Inside, he wanted to burst out in laughter.

  “Thank you, Salvador,” the newly crown prince said, taking another sip of wine.

  Romanero wasn’t overly surprised to hear this news. With the king’s health worsening, he had hinted of his intent to abdicat
e last month, essentially saying his son was ready to be Spain’s next monarch, that it was time for a new generation to take over.

  After yesterday’s tragedy, the longtime king probably figured no one would be up for celebrating the good news. Hence, the informal father and son meeting.

  “You are most welcome, my lord! I am eager to accompany you to Brussels in the morning. I will not let the Prime Minister, your father his Excellency, nor my country down.”

  It didn’t go unnoticed by Prince Javier that Romanero refrained from including his name as well. The two never got along.

  Prince Javier blinked away the omission, “Thank you, Salvador. I’m quite certain we made the right decision by inviting you.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” But inside Romanero thought, How the tables will soon turn, you little twerp! You of all people aren’t fit to run a faucet, let alone be accepted by anyone as a great leader. You may be a prince by birth, but to me you’re nothing but a fool, a peasant! You will one day bow down to me in worship, not the other way around!

  At that, Spain’s newly crown prince nodded to one of his servants and the first course was served.

  40

  MONDAY...TWO DAYS AFTER THE RAPTURE

  IN BRUSSELS, BELGIUM, WORLD leaders were gathering. The Summit was scheduled to commence after dinner and would go late into the evening—probably into the wee hours of the night—before reconvening in the morning.

  Though tentatively scheduled to end Tuesday night, world leaders vowed to remain in Brussels for as long as it took to find solid, applicable solutions to bring back to those they were empowered to govern.

  While there had been many summits among world leaders in the past, this was the first time they had one, and only one, collective topic of discussion; their survival.

  With all NATO and UN embargoes and sanctions temporarily lifted against insurgent countries, this was the first ever meeting of this sort in the history of the world.

 

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