Susan nodded and took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. She realized Angelino always saw several moves ahead. Nothing he ever did, however random the act might appear, was ever done without some greater purpose being served.
"Is there nothing you don't foresee?” Susan teased.
"Hmmm. Let me think.” Angelino furrowed his brow in mock concentration. “Nope."
Susan and Maribella laughed.
The door to Nicole's room opened slowly and Nicole peered around the corner of the door timidly.
"Nicole,” Susan said happily. “I'm sorry. We did not mean to wake you. Please join us.” It was like the events of the night before had never happened.
"I do not feel very well,” Nicole shuffled out of the bedroom slowly, her hands rubbing her temples. “I have a pounding headache."
"Here. Sit down,” Angelino offered. “You will feel better once you have something to eat.” Maribella rose and began to prepare a light breakfast of eggs and toast for Nicole.
"So, how is our prodigal daughter feeling this morning?” Susan beamed.
Nicole's eye met hers lovingly. “She is feeling very blessed and grateful.” She reached out and took Susan and Angelino's hands. “You two are the greatest people I have ever known. Thank you again. No one has ever believed in me the way you do."
"Well,” Susan confessed, “to be honest, Father Angelino was the one who truly believed in you. Until last night, I still had my doubts."
Nicole smiled softly. “Of course, Susan. I can understand that. You were just being protective of Father Angelino, as I shall be myself from now on."
Angelino then said abruptly, as if just remembering something. “I have something I must do for a moment. Excuse me."
With that, he closed his eyes and white light enveloped him. Just before he faded away, he called out to Susan, “I will be back momentarily. In the meantime, fill Nicole in on her role in all of this.” Then he was gone.
"Wow,” Nicole said. “I just love it when he does that."
Maribella and Susan both grew serious.
"What?” Nicole said.
For the next half hour they recounted to Nicole all Angelino had asked them to. That done, they welcomed the latest of the Knights of the Ascension into their midst with a warm embrace.
* * * *
ONE WAS NEVER quite ready for the blinding flash of light which appeared out of nowhere, so Eugene Crowley started when Angelino appeared before them in the Oval Office.
"Forgive the intrusion, gentlemen,” Angelino said deferentially, “but I bring news for Jesus to take back to his friends at the Council."
Jesus eyed Angelino warily, and then nodded a courtesy greeting in his direction.
"As you can see, their plan to have me eliminated has failed. On the other hand, it never really had much chance of success in the first place, don't you think, Jesus?"
Crowley said, “What do you mean?"
"He means,” Jesus said evenly, “the Council has continuously underestimated his power. He is correct about that."
"Ah, give the Son of God a cigar,” Angelino said lightly.
"Oh, but wait,” he said, correcting himself with mock seriousness. “You aren't really the Son of God, are you?"
"What are you talking about, Angelino?” Crowley's voice was edgy with wariness.
Jesus merely glared harshly at Angelino.
Angelino continued, “You mean he hasn't told you yet, Mr. President?"
"Hasn't told me what?"
"I warn you, Angelino,” Jesus said, his voice dripping with malice.
Angelino walked over and casually sat on the corner of Crowley's desk. He picked up a round clear glass paperweight, etched with the presidential seal, and tossed it back and forth between his hands as he spoke, “He's warning me.” Then he whispered to Crowley loud enough to be heard, “Think I oughta be scared?"
"What's he talking about, Jesus?” Crowley was beginning to feel a sense of panic overtaking him.
"Do you want to tell him, or should I?” Angelino asked Jesus. “Oh, and by the way,” he said off-handedly. “Senator Hatcher's speech is being broadcast once again. Don't you guys believe in freedom of speech any more?"
Crowley was clearly confused by Angelino's demeanor, which seemed to be a bit too playful under the circumstances.
"What?” Jesus flared. He grabbed the remote control and turned the television back on. He scowled as Senator Hatcher's image filled the screen.
"Try another channel,” Angelino said, tossing the paperweight up and down in his left hand now.
Jesus clicked the remote. The image flashed for a second, but did not change. It was still Stuart on the Senate floor. He clicked it again. And again. Then he threw the remote across the room in disgust.
Angelino smiled at Crowley and raised and lowered his eyebrows several times in rapid succession. “I thought the multi-channel thing was a nice touch. What do you think, President Crowley? Too much, maybe?"
Then he directed his comments to Jesus directly. “You will find you won't be able to cut Senator Hatcher off again. It's part of the ‘good-wins-over-evil’ thing.” Jesus glared back at him. “Hey, don't blame me, Jesus. I don't make the rules, you know that."
Jesus hissed at Angelino, “What do you want, Angelino?"
"I already told you. I wanted to let you know Nicole Chambleau failed to assassinate me. In fact, she's one of us now. She is one of the Twelve Knights. Actually, she always was. I'm surprised you weren't aware of that. We're all very proud of her."
"Okay, Angelino. You have delivered your message. Now leave us."
"In a moment, Jesus.” Angelino stood up and then said. “You don't really like that name do you? Let me think for a moment. What would you rather be called? Do you prefer ‘Lucifer?’ ‘Beelzebub’ perhaps? Or do you prefer the more simple, ‘Satan?’ Let's see, what was it they called you in that musical, Damn Yankees? ‘Applegate,’ I believe it was. Naw. That's just not you, is it? How about if I just refer to you as ‘Demon-Spawn-of-Hell?’ Does that work for you?"
Crowley grew ashen as what Angelino was trying to say began to sink in.
"Oh, God, no!” he said to himself.
"Yep, I'm afraid so, Mr. President,” Angelino said to him, not without sympathy. “You've been had."
Crowley felt his stomach tighten. He fought back the urge to throw up ... just barely. How could I have been so blind?
"Jesus, is this true?” Crowley asked him, knowing in his heart it was.
Jesus said nothing. He continued to shoot daggers at Angelino with his eyes. The face of Jesus, contorted with anger and hatred as it was now, answered Crowley's question beyond any doubt. He no longer was able to control his stomach. He ran from the room to the bathroom adjacent to the Oval Office, where he wretched violently.
"This is not over, Angelino."
"No. It's not.” Angelino agreed, in a serious mode now.
"You will regret your interference. I promise you."
"That will have to wait for another day,” Angelino said. He lobbed the paperweight at Jesus. As the flash of white light engulfed Angelino, the paperweight was transformed into a gold coin as Jesus instinctively plucked it out of the air. It was Angelino's trademark coin, bearing the inscription, Libertus Kristos est, Kristos Libertus est.
Jesus stood in place, his face darkened with rage. His hand gripped tightly around the gold coin, until it was bent into a golden ball by the force of his grip.
The television continued to display Stuart's speech from the Senate. He noticed almost all the senators were present and they were actually paying attention. This had to be stopped once and for all.
He closed his eyes, rolling them back in his head. His body began to tremble and his face reddened. Then in one sharp movement, he snapped his head forward at the television.
* * * *
ON THE SENATE floor, Stuart Hatcher stopped speaking in mid sentence. Something is wrong, Harold realized instantly. Stuart began clutc
hing at his throat. He gasped for air, unable to command his lungs to breath.
"Stuart!” Harold called out. His good friend looked in his direction, his eyes filled with panic and fear, as his face grew a dark purple. Harold raced to his friend's side just as he fell to the floor. Stuart's body twitched in a rapid series of violent convulsions before one final breath of air escaped his body. Stuart died in the arms of his closest friend, Harold Bennett.
That would be what the news reports would say. The coroner would report Stuart died of a massive hemorrhage of the brain. The political pundits would recount his long and brilliant career on every political talk show on every channel. But no one would ever report the content of his last speech. That story would be lost forever, submerged by the story of his own death, on the floor of the Senate he had served in so gallantly for so many years.
Chapter 23
THE FUNERAL OF Stuart Hatcher was one of the most attended in Washington history. Crowley had seen to that. It was not entirely a political move. Crowley had genuinely liked and respected Hatcher, although the two had had little in common beyond party affiliation.
The Senate had recessed for a period of mourning of one week, with the understanding Harold Bennett would be allowed to continue his filibuster upon reconvening. Much to Jesus’ anger, the meeting with the Joint Chiefs of Staff was likewise postponed.
At the moment, standing at Stuart's gravesite with the rest of the assembled dignitaries and with Stuart's widow Charlotte beside him, that was the least of Harold's concerns. He had lost his closest friend and a part of him had lost the spirit to continue the fight. Perhaps it was just easier to accept the will of the people and surrender to the inevitable. He wondered if his friend would understand.
Harold was also wracked with guilt. It was he who had brought Stuart into the battle. Perhaps his old friend would be alive now had he not done so. Harold was suspicious about Stuart's death. He knew for a fact Stuart had been in excellent health, having curtailed the reckless habits of his past in recent years. He had bragged to Harold about his last physical, in which his doctor had reported he had the health of a man fifteen years younger. The autopsy, performed at Charlotte's insistence, had revealed Stuart's brain had literally exploded in his skull. The coroner had never seen anything like it. The cause of death was officially announced as a brain hemorrhage, and that was the end of the matter, except to Harold.
Somehow Crowley or the anti-Christ—Harold could not bring himself to refer to him by the name of ‘Jesus’ any longer—or both of them, had to be behind Stuart's death. The timing was simply too convenient. Stuart had been getting through to some of the senators and members of the press, and if it had not been for the blackout of the television signals around the world, he would most certainly have gotten through to many of the people as well. Harold had heard reports that the television signal had inexplicably been restored just moments before Stuart's death, and furthermore, there had been rumors some electronic anomaly had caused the broadcast to appear on all channels all over the world. If that were true, it made the timing of Stuart's death all the more tragic. He wondered if the hand of Angelino had been behind those events.
Harold glared across the casket at Crowley and Jesus, also in attendance at Stuart's graveside. Jesus met his gaze with the trace of a gloating smile. Harold's fists clenched at his side and he gritted his teeth so tightly his jaw began to ache. Like a serial killer who returns to the scene of his crimes to secretly laugh at the police, there he stood.
Charlotte Hatcher noticed his tension. She took his arm and squeezed it sympathetically. He patted her hand and put Crowley and the anti-Christ out of his mind. There would be time to deal with them later. For now, his dear friend deserved his respects.
* * * *
ANGELINO AND THE OTHERS, except Susan and Nicole, prepared for the next leg of their journey. Susan and Nicole were to remain behind for the time being.
"Susan, I know it must seem like I am always abandoning you,” Angelino smiled, taking her hand affectionately in his. “But you must prepare for your duties, and Raji will teach you as he taught me and as his ancestors taught Jesus."
He moved to Nicole and embraced her. She squeezed him tightly. “And you, my dear, have a lot of catching up to do. You must cram many years of training into a few short months. There is not any more time than that. There may not be even that much.” For Nicole, making the transition from member of The Council of Most Highs to Knight of the Ascension was a pretty wide leap to expect anyone to make without some resistance. Raji and Maribella would work through that, Angelino knew.
Susan circulated to say her goodbyes.
"Monsignor Cassidy, I will miss your cunning intellect.” She winked, “I might even miss your complaining, too.” Cassidy smiled as he hugged her.
"It will not be long before we are reunited, Susan. Exciting days await you."
She moved over to Billy Red Deer. “Billy, your quiet strength has been a rock for all of us.” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I'm counting on you to keep Angelino safe."
Billy, who seemed to pride himself on never smiling, allowed just the barest trace of a smile to cross his lips. “Don't worry, Ms. Morgan. I won't let anything happen to him.” Susan thanked him by squeezing his hand.
"Imahoptec. If there is a more joyful man on the planet, I have never met him. You probably don't even realize how your very presence warms a person's heart. If I am ever feeling sad or melancholy, I will remember your big smile. I'm sure I will then be a little less sad or lonely."
She turned to Eli and Bartholomew. “I have not had much of a chance to get to know either of you. I hope we will have more time in the future to correct that."
"Yes, Ms. Morgan,” Eli said. “I regret that too. But I think fate has chosen you wisely."
"Thank you, Eli. I pray so. Have a fruitful journey."
Then her eyes met Angelino's. She nodded to him. He walked toward a small rose garden adjacent to Raji's home where she joined him.
Her eyes twinkled as she said, “And scarecrow, I think I'll miss you most of all.” Angelino laughed.
She grew serious. “Angelino, I did not want to say this in front of the others, but I fear I may not see you again."
"Never is a very long time, Susan.” Angelino replied. It was not the reassurance she had hoped for.
"Is there something you aren't telling me, Father?"
Angelino grew thoughtful for a few moments, considering how much he wanted to say. Finally, he said, “All I can say right now, Susan, is you will be tried greatly in the coming days ahead. You must remember this, however, as I have cautioned you so many times already: things are not always what they appear to be. Keep that thought foremost in your mind and you will save yourself much pain and unhappiness."
Susan felt a chill run up her spine. She had acquired the skill of reading between the lines where Angelino was concerned. Often, what he did not say carried as much meaning as what he did. Susan opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. She was probably just being paranoid. After all, he had plenty of protection around him.
She shook off her concerns and gave Angelino a tight hug. “You be careful, Father Angelino. We are all depending on you."
"As we are all depending on you, my dear."
"Where are you off to this time?"
"China."
With that, the white light enveloped them and Angelino said, “We will all see you soon."
The light faded and Susan and Nicole were left with Raji, Terianna, and Maribella. Susan once again felt the nagging sense of danger that had hovered over her earlier. She did not seem able to shake it. Raji must have sensed this, for he said, “Susan. Do not fear for Angelino. He is a powerful Knight. The most powerful since Jesus, himself."
Susan nodded her understanding, and said, “It is not for him I fear, but for all of us ... and for Mankind. He is needed."
Raji nodded. “Yes, and he knows that. He will be vigilant."
Susan stood silently, staring at the spot where Angelino and the others had been. It was like the way a dog stares off at its master as he leaves. But the dog had learned his master would return each day, like clockwork. Susan did not have that certainty. She fought back a feeling of desperation. She wanted to will Angelino back to where she could watch over and protect him.
Raji stepped up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders in a gesture of comfort. She reached up and patted one of his hands, then finally broke her gaze and headed back into the house.
Nicole watched without comment. She still bore a heavy weight of failure. It was so hard to let the conditioning of a lifetime fall away like an old worn-out cape. Yet, when she contemplated her mission to murder Angelino, she felt as if she would throw up. She had been given a gift bestowed upon few—the chance to reshape her own destiny. Part of her harbored deep resentment and anger toward those who had lied to her all her life. Once she had felt proud of her affiliation with a cause she believed in deeply. Now, she only felt shame for having been so completely duped. How wise she had thought herself to be, how mature, how elite. She had been taught she held a special place among a group of special overseers of destiny. She knew she had been indoctrinated with a misguided arrogance.
Nicole secretly wondered how she would react when she faced her former Council companions. Would she maintain her newfound integrity? Or would she wilt under a deeper conditioning, the extent of which she could only guess?
She shook off those thoughts. There would be plenty of time to face them. She wanted to concentrate on her new role as a member of the Twelve Knights of the Ascension. She would serve them with the same loyalty she had served the Council. Only this time, she would be serving by her own choice rather than as a programmed automaton. For the first time in her life, Nicole understood the meaning of “freedom."
"Come, Nicole,” Maribella said softly. “Let us begin your training."
Nicole followed Maribella into the house. Her new adventure was about to begin.
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