Shrouded Destiny

by Richard William Bates

  * * * *

  "YOUR HOLINESS,” DAVID Warrenger addressed Pope Timothy II by his formal title. He and MacArthur understood it was merely a gesture and Number One was the true power. “Thank you for meeting with me."

  Jesus, who had accompanied Warrenger to the Vatican secretly, nodded a cold greeting to the Pope.

  "Please, take a seat gentlemen,” MacArthur said, gesturing to the conference table normally used by the Curia.

  Jesus got right to the point. “I have asked to meet with you because I had hoped we could come up with a solution to the Angelino problem."

  MacArthur smiled wryly at that. So, he was not the only one who understood. “It is gratifying to finally hear someone besides me take the position Angelino is a problem. He has been a burr under our saddle for decades."

  Jesus did not smile. “He is much more than a mere burr under the saddle now. He is a threat to all of us—a serious threat."

  "Aren't you overstating his importance a bit?” Timothy asked. “He is no match for you, Jesus. He is considered a crackpot lunatic by the international press. Only NBS ever runs a story favorable to him and when they do, they are inundated with protests and hate mail. The entire international community supports you. Angelino is powerless to harm you."

  Jesus glared at Timothy as if about to rebuke a child for bad behavior. “You have known Angelino all of your adult life and you are still unaware of his power?” he said coldly.

  "Power?” Timothy almost chuckled. “Surely you are exaggerating. He is a cunning orator and he can twist one's thoughts with his clever rhetoric. But powers? I have never seen any evidence of them."

  Jesus shook his head in disbelief. “Do you know how old Angelino is?"

  MacArthur blinked blankly. What an odd question.

  "Yes. He's roughly my age ... seventy-two."

  Jesus laughed loudly, throwing his head back.

  "Guess again, Gregory MacArthur. Angelino is over eight hundred years old."

  Timothy's mouth dropped in total disbelief. “That's impossible. I ... I have known him for over fifty years, since we attended the seminary together. He was a young man then. He has aged well throughout the years ... better than most men our age, I grant you. But he can't be that old."

  "I assure you he is. He has grown stronger over time and his powers are formidable. Don't let his playful silliness fool you. He is the greatest threat the Agenda faces and we will not take him lightly. Do you understand me?"

  The darkness of Jesus’ eyes told Timothy he meant business. He was paralyzed and unable to speak. His hands began to tremble. He was not certain if it was merely shock ... or fear.

  "Angelino has the same powers I possess, although he is not as powerful, of course,” Jesus said firmly. “But he grows more powerful all the time."

  The Pope's breath grew short and he felt overcome by a wave of vertigo. How had all of this been kept secret? He looked toward Warrenger, who seemed unsurprised by the revelations. So, he had known as well.

  "Did Ronald know this?” he finally managed to say, in a voice hardly about a rasping whisper.

  "No. He was as in the dark as you were. Only the Council knew. I doubt even his companions have been told of this yet, although I cannot be certain."

  Timothy directed his attention to Warrenger. “The assassin you dispatched to dispose of Angelino, does she know?"

  Warrenger shook his head. “No. We thought it best to withhold that knowledge from her. It would have had an intimidating affect and might have prevented her from doing her duty. It is hard to end the life of one you hold in awe."

  Timothy nodded his agreement.

  "Have you heard from your agent yet, David?” Jesus asked.

  "No, we have not. We are beginning to grow concerned. If her intent was discovered, it is unclear what they might do with her. On the other hand, she may have accomplished her mission and been caught, or might be in hiding, making her way back to France."

  "You fool!” Jesus bellowed. “She has failed!"

  Warrenger started at the outburst. MacArthur thought he saw fear in Number One's eyes, something he had never seen before.

  "What do you mean? How do you know this?"

  "Angelino paid me a visit the day Senator Hatcher was ... the day he died,” Jesus said coldly. “He not only informed me Nicole Chambleau had failed her duty, but that she had been turned ... that she was one of them now."

  Warrenger slumped in his seat. “What?” he gasped. “That's not possible. In over two thousand years, we have never had a defection from the Council. He must have been lying to you."

  "Angelino does not lie, David,” Jesus glowered. “He never learned how to.” His tone dripped with disgust. “Now perhaps you can see how much of a threat Angelino poses. Angelino lives, and his powers are stronger than ever. To turn a member of the Council requires incredible power. I do not know what his plan is. We must be prepared for anything and everything until I can implement my own plan. He is cunning, as you know, Timothy, and slippery."

  Warrenger grew thoughtful. The Catholic Church had been created by the Council for the purpose of preparing the world for the arrival of The Master. To do so, the Church itself had had to be deceived into believing it supported the cause of Christ. Only the inner Council members were ever told the full extent of the Agenda and who they in truth served. It was the deepest secret of initiation known only by a few of the inner circle. All other allies of the Council had been led to believe the plan behind the Agenda was to usher in an era of unity and prosperity. It had always had a secular thrust, associating itself with the Catholic Church only insofar as the political situation required public approval of the Church in order to gain acceptance.

  The work of building the foundation for the Agenda had been painstaking and methodically slow. It required a patience and commitment to be able to think in terms of not just years or generations, but centuries. The Number One had always been chosen based upon the ability to do precisely that. Few were qualified. It had been with great pride that Warrenger accepted his appointment twenty years ago. The position of Number One was automatically accompanied with financial success, manipulated and created by the allies of the Council. To do his work adequately, Number One required access to the seats of power, and the world gave that access only to the manifestly successful and powerful.

  The Council had granted the permission to create the Genetic Engineering Project precisely for the reason of one day manufacturing its ruler ... The Master. Once Hamilton and Barber had successfully achieved the goal of perfect cloning, Warrenger had manipulated the Senate hearings to make the research unavailable to the rest of the scientific community. He had also seen to it Hamilton and Barber were to be separated. It was imperative they not work together and jeopardize the larger plan.

  That plan had been proceeding smoothly until Hamilton and Barber were visited by Angelino. Warrenger had become aware of this through hidden cameras in the lab. It had been his intention to have Mathias destroy the embryonic Jesus, nipping the experiment in the bud. It was he who had made the late night phone call to Mathias, alerting him to the happenings at the laboratory.

  Through the most amazing of ironies, before him sat the One to whom he had devoted his life and committed his being. It was as if fate itself was not to be denied.

  And yet, there was Angelino, right in the middle of all this. That was the wild card. It didn't make sense. He could understand Angelino wanting to clone Jesus. That part made perfect sense to him. What didn't make sense was how this plan by Angelino could play right into the hands of the Council. Could Angelino have miscalculated so completely? If so, could Warrenger simply dismiss as good luck that the miscalculation created the very One he had sworn to serve? That kind of coincidence just did not happen. Yet why would Angelino have encouraged the cloning from the Shroud if he knew it would result in the creation of the Anti-Christ? No. It simply did not make sense.

  Whatever the truth was, however, Warrenger was not goin
g to turn his back on The Master. His Master was the true ruler of mankind. Maybe even one as strong as Angelino could be made to serve the needs of him. Why not? It was more logical than some half-baked idea that The Master just popped up accidentally because of a miscalculation by Angelino.

  Of course, there was one other possibility Warrenger would only allow himself to half-entertain. Angelino could have known the anti-Christ would emerge from the cloning, and he had manipulated his emergence for a larger purpose, even more far-reaching than the agenda the Council had served. If that were true, all bets were off. He could only hope the power of his Master was indeed as great as legend had promised and that Angelino had underestimated it. Like a cosmic chess game, each side attempted to anticipate the other. Warrenger remembered a saying chess players used—victory comes to he who makes the next-to-last mistake. He was determined it would not be he who made the last mistake.

  Warrenger's reverie had occurred in a mere second as he contemplated the various scenarios. There was only so much he could discuss in front of the Pope. He could not risk the possibility Timothy might do something foolish. If Nicole could be turned, then no one was to be trusted.

  Just then, they all were startled by the glow of a bright white light in the room. Angelino stood before them.

  "Mr. Warrenger, you really do think way too much,” he said, as his materialization completed. Warrenger's palms sweated. Does Angelino know my very thoughts?

  "Angelino!” Timothy hissed, coming to his feet.

  "Greetings, Gregory. It has been a long time. I must say, you've looked better."

  MacArthur's hands clenched involuntarily at his sides.

  Jesus, remaining seated, said calmly, “You certainly get around, Angelino."

  "I was just thinking the same about you.” He walked around the room, surveying the ornate wall hangings and furniture. “Nice place you have here, Gregory."

  MacArthur seethed but remained silent, content to allow Jesus to deal with his nemesis. Could this man really be over eight hundred years old? He had never seen an indication of anything special about Angelino. He always considered him a bit of a prima donna, and totally unworthy of the priesthood. MacArthur did not consider that the same assessment also applied to him.

  "Angelino, you must really rid yourself of the habit of appearing where you are not invited,” Jesus said.

  "If I did that, I'd never go anywhere,” Angelino winked. “Is that any way to talk to the man who is responsible for your birth? Show a little more respect for your father.” He smiled broadly.

  Jesus smiled back, but without humor. “We both know you did not create me, Angelino."

  "Yes, true enough, Jesus. I was going for something a little more...” he paused as if searching for the right word, “...Christ-like,” he finished.

  Jesus actually laughed at that. “What a disappointment I must be to you, then."

  "Oh, not at all. You were coming sooner or later, with my help or without it. I merely assisted the inevitable."

  "What are you two talking about?” The Pope finally jumped in. “Who was coming? What assistance?"

  "Oh, you haven't told him?” Angelino frowned in mock disappointment. “I'm surprised at you.” He turned to MacArthur, and his words hit the Pope like a club. “You're sitting with the one the Bible calls the Anti-Christ, Gregory."

  MacArthur's eyes went blank as the words penetrated his mind. I could not have heard him correctly. Even Angelino was not so evil as to be the agent for the creation of the Devil himself. After a moment, the Pope realized Angelino was not joking. The cold stare from Jesus and the impassive expression on the face of Warrenger told him Angelino had spoken truthfully. He fell back into his chair, his face frozen in horror.

  MacArthur's mind raced wildly, like a panic-stricken rat searching for escape. He could not accept, yet he could not deny. He felt his mind close in on itself, suffocating him with a silent scream. His heart beat wildly and he struggled to catch his breath. Am I having a heart attack? He grew dizzy and found it a monumental struggle to remain seated upright.

  Angelino moved over to him and gently placed his hand on his shoulder. Almost immediately, the Pope regained his physical equilibrium, although his mind remained engulfed in dream-like state of confusion. He looked up at Angelino, a dazed, confused expression on his face. Angelino looked down at him kindly. Within a matter of seconds, MacArthur's world had been shattered into a million fragments.

  Angelino stepped away from MacArthur and stood before Jesus, who rose from his chair. They stood face to face, neither flinching from the gaze of the other.

  "I have warned you once, Angelino,” Jesus said through clenched teeth. “Stay out of my business. You might think you have the power to defeat me, but you do not."

  "I know this, Jesus. I can not win a direct confrontation with you,” Angelino said, much to the surprise of Jesus, who apparently had not expected such abject surrender. Jesus’ expression went from one of surprise, to one of confusion, to one of triumph, all in the matter of a split-second.

  "You are a wiser man than I have given you credit for,” Jesus smiled coldly. Angelino bowed his head in acknowledgment. “A wise man knows when he is defeated."

  Angelino raised his gaze to meet Jesus’ once again. “Oh, I hope I did not give you a false impression,” he said, back to being playful once again. “I did not say I was defeated.” He turned to MacArthur, who was still out of it, and asked, “Did I say I was defeated?” Then back to Jesus, “No, I don't think I said I was defeated, Jesus."

  Jesus’ face grew red with rage. “You play a dangerous game. Perhaps you would not be so smug if some harm were to come to your precious Susan Morgan."

  For the first time, Warrenger saw Angelino's face darken. He moved his face closer to Jesus and said in an even voice, completely in control, but filled with intensity, “Do not make the mistake of thinking you can attack Susan with impunity. It will be your last mistake. You will not get the chance to make another."

  Jesus grinned. “So, you are not quite so smug and arrogant any more, are you?” Angelino stared back into his eyes. “I did not think you the sort to resort to petty threats.” Jesus’ eyes mocked Angelino. He felt he assumed the advantage.

  Warrenger, observing the exchange, was not convinced. There was something in Angelino's face that caused him to feel doubt about the ultimate success of the Agenda. Angelino's was not the face of a man defeated. It wasn't exactly the face of a man triumphant either. It was more the face of a man incapable of being defeated. The face of a man who knew that whatever might happen, the Universe would somehow rearrange itself to create any outcome he desired, as if by the mere force of his will. This was a kind of power Warrenger had never seen before.

  "Jesus, I came here today to offer you one chance to end this before it begins,” Angelino finally said. “It does not have to end the way it is heading. I ask you, for the sake of all mankind, to leave us in peace."

  Jesus stared into Angelino's face as if not able to believe his ears. Then he threw his head back and laughed almost maniacally. His whole body shook with the force of his laughter.

  "'I ask you for the sake of all mankind to leave us in peace,'” he mocked, and then laughed harder still.

  "You fool. What utter foolish arrogance you display ... you and your puny Twelve Knights of the Ascension. You will not survive the struggle, which is probably just as well. You will not want to see the world that is left afterwards.” Jesus walked away from Angelino and paced in a small circle.

  "I have taken many forms and conquered many worlds,” he continued triumphantly. “Never have I been defeated. Never will I be defeated. And never before have I found conditions so perfect for my conquest. This world has done nothing short of invite me to conquer it. If anyone had listened to the real Jesus two thousand years ago, I would not be here now."

  He smiled malevolently. “But they did not listen, did they? Only a handful of people heeded his words, never enough to amount
to anything remotely approaching a real challenge to my dominion.

  "And what was it Jesus asked of you? Did he ask you to cloister yourselves away in monasteries, never to know the joy of physical life? Did he ask you to sacrifice the lives of your children? Did he demand you sit in devoted prayer for endless hours on end? Did he demand you worship him mindlessly?

  "No. He asked none of these things of you. He asked but one thing of you ... to love. But you could not manage even that. Instead, before his body was even cold in his tomb, his disciples ... men who had pledged their undying love and loyalty to him ... were fighting among themselves. Peter wanting this, Simon wanting that, Thomas doubting everything. Before long, the seeds Jesus had hoped would form the foundation of a new world of love and peace were scattered to the wind, no longer united, having forgotten even that which they had witnessed with their own eyes.

  "But such a man could not be forgotten totally. So myths arose around him. His teachings were twisted and perverted until they became unrecognizable. Thus was the foundation for my arrival laid, the prelude of which was sown in the seeds of little things. Not in the atrocities which repulse even the most hardened of hearts ... acts of horror always bring out the best in men as they rise up against them ... but in the small injustices, which chip away at the souls of men just as the steady dripping of water wears away the hardest stone. The face turned away from the hungry child in the street. The extra nickel the merchant cheats from his customer. The piece of candy the customer steals from the merchant when his back is turned. Soon, those small transgressions to which everyone has become desensitized give way to slightly larger transgressions.

  "One day, mankind awakens to a world in which the previously despised has become the beloved ... the man who cheats is hailed as a ‘lovable rogue’ ... the bank robber becomes the ‘romantic hero’ ... the mad bomber becomes the voice of an oppressed people making itself heard. Heroes are concocted from the whole cloth of corruption. That day comes and mankind is shocked to find his world immersed in evil.

  "When that day arrives ... after the seeds have been planted and watered ... from those seeds, I appear. When the environment is ripe, I am swept into the world as if caught in a vortex of decadence. All things appear in their season. I appear in mine.