by Michael Todd
They finished up their meal, and Damian pulled a twenty from his wallet. He looked down at the table as his phone buzzed loudly with an unknown caller ID on the screen. With a sigh, he handed him the money. “Here, pay for lunch. I am going to step out to take this call. Oh, and refill my drink will ya? Coke, no ice.”
Max gave him a dead stare and nodded. “Just like living back at home…”
Damian walked out of the deli and sat down on the bench in front of the window. “This is Damian.”
“Yeh would think after all those years in the mercenaries ye would know not to identify yourself to an unknown caller.” The voice on the other end was a woman with a British accent.
“Who am I speaking with?” Damian asked.
“This is the Secretary,” she replied dryly.
“Oh, my new best friend. How do you do?”
She didn’t respond, merely sat quietly, the low hum of a computer in the background. After a few moments, she cleared her throat. “I am calling to introduce ye to how this whole thing works, including our relationship.”
Damian smiled. “I don’t know if anyone told you, but I am a priest.”
Again, she ignored his comedic tone. “Basically, I will contact ye on this dog and bone. I will then proceed to give ye the details of yer assignment, and any information that is needed along with it. I can point ye in the correct direction at any time, day or night. Are ye following so far?”
“So, what you’re saying is, you order the sandwiches?” He chuckled at his own joke.
The Secretary cleared her throat. “I am yer number-one-point contact for everything. If the three Wise Men need to speak to ye, they will go through me.”
Damian put one arm over the back of the bench. “Do you have a name, or are you really a computer chip and some scrap metal?”
There was a long pause. “Call me ‘the Secretary.’”
He snorted. “So, what you’re saying is that either your parents were very cruel and gave you one of the worst names in history, or you really don’t have a name. I mean, I guess it’s not the worst name in the world. You could be named ‘the Brandisher’ or ‘Crawl the Warrior King.’ That would definitely be worse than ‘the Secretary.’”
“Be quiet for a moment,” she whispered.
Several people walked past him, and he smiled at them. It wasn’t until after they passed that he wondered if she was quieting him because of them or for some other reason. He sat up straight on the bench and cleared his throat, looking around. Finally, he relaxed, figuring it was absurd to think she was watching him. She had no reason to be.
When the people were a block away, she started talking again. “It’s very important that ye not misunderstand anything about assignments, so questions—relevant ones—are encouraged. I also request that when ye need anything, ye come to me. I can send it straight to yer phone, and ye will have it in seconds. It will also cut down on the possibility that yer assignment could be compromised.”
“Got it,” Damian replied, nodding.
“Now, I have yer first assignment.” He heard her flip through a few papers.
“That was fast,” he said, chuckling. “We just met. You didn’t even take me out to dinner.”
“There is a hotel. I am sending the coordinates to yer phone. This hotel is abandoned.”
Damian sneered. “The ones I visit usually are.”
“It has been built, rebuilt, renovated, and was eventually sold off. They are trying to dismantle the building for a community center that will be financed partially by the church.” She paused, flipping through more papers.
“Let me guess,” Damian said in a monotone voice. “It’s haunted?”
“We don’t like to use the term haunted, but for all intents and purposes, yes. There is a malevolent spirit inside that wreaks havoc on anyone who goes near it. Yeh should be able to find the heart of the building and exorcise the spirit. This is considered a level-six haunting by the church, so there is a danger of physical harm as well as possible infection. Yeh shouldn’t take anyone not infected into the building with ye.”
Damian pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and started to write. “Are we thinking more than one spirit?”
The Secretary let out a small sigh. “Not that we are aware of, but it is dangerous, nonetheless. Yeh will be taking your trainee, Max with ye. This is an excellent opportunity for training, or it can be an excellent opportunity for ye to get him killed. I would prefer the first option. Yeh should remember at all times that ye are responsible for his well-being as well as creating a future partner in the program.”
He stopped writing and looked up. “I really don’t do partners.”
“Not everything is about ye,” she said dryly.
Damian let his lips curl up and shook his head. “You are feisty. You remind me of someone that I know.”
“That is not relevant to yer assignment,” she replied.
He snorted. “I can tell this is going to be a beautiful friendship, Secretary.”
She didn’t respond to his comment, merely continued. “Now, the best time to go in will be after dusk. The entity inside the hotel seems to only really come out full-scale after dark. We have managed to get the electricity on in the building, but the spirit messes with it so I would take flashlights just in case. Trust me when I say ye don’t want to be caught in total darkness with this thing. I will send video surveillance of the haunting to yer phone. Please study the spirit and its patterns.”
Damian closed his notebook and put it back into his pocket. “I think I can handle all that. Is there anything else I should know?”
The Secretary paused momentarily. “No, I believe that is all the information provided. If ye have questions, ye can call, and I will do my best to get them answered.”
He opened his notebook again and looked for any notes on how to contact her. “How do I get ahold of you? No one gave me your information. I will need to let you know when the job is complete.”
She typed quickly on her keyboard. “There. My information is now stored in yer phone.”
Damian looked surprised and pulled the phone from his ear. He scanned through the numbers until he came to one listed as, “The Secretary.” He put the phone back to his ear, completely confused. “How did you—”
She cut him off before he could finish the question. “And Damian, don’t eat the Tuna Rolls at the deli. They aren’t very good.”
He looked up at the sign and sat forward on the bench. “Hey, are you—”
The phone clicked as the Secretary hung up.
Damian laughed as he stuck the phone in his pocket. “Oh, she’s got tricks. Okay. I see.”
He shook his head as he walked back into the deli, finding Max talking suspiciously to the woman behind the counter. “Hey, you ready to get rolling?”
The young man nodded and turned with him, heading out of the deli. When they were back on the street corner, Max leaned closer. “So, were you joking with me about them being Damned or just about the meat? She seems a bit off.”
Damian slapped him on the shoulder. “Maximus, you need to learn how to read me. I was screwing with you from the beginning. I know those people from the Sunday church service I run every other weekend a few miles from the house. I can see now I need to slow way down.”
Max rolled his eyes, trying not to focus on the laughter coming from his mentor. “Not funny. Those people probably think I’m insane.”
He took a deep breath and squeezed his shoulder. “Well, don’t worry about it. Besides, I just got the call.”
“What call?”
Damian looked at him with a mischievous grin. “We got our first assignment.”
Chapter Four
Damian held the black gate open as Max walked through, writing in his notebook. They walked around the courtyard, discussing everything they would need for the exorcism. This would be his trainee’s first chance to really see one from beginning to end.
“You will need fla
shlights, pliers, screwdrivers, and a hammer,” he instructed.
Max looked at him, confused. “Are we exorcising the hotel or building one?”
He crossed his arms as they walked. “The thing about exorcisms is that they are never the same. You never know what you will walk into or what kind of tools you will need. I’ve learned over the years that it’s better to be over-prepared than under. We may not need any of it, or we may need all of it.”
The young man shook his head. “Okay. I’ll write it all down. We have a chest to load this stuff into in the garage, right?”
Damian shrugged. “I believe so, but this is the first job for the church I’ve had since leaving the mercs, so we’ll have to take inventory of what we have in there.”
“Okay, what else? We have rope, crosses, bibles, holy water, flashlights, the tools, and towels.” Max ran his finger down the list, double checking everything.
He glanced at the trainee then straight ahead, trying not to make a big deal about it. “The ammo box that is in my office. We’ll need to take that with us too.”
The young man gave him a side glance and narrowed his eyes. “I thought weapons weren’t allowed by the church?”
Damian turned and put his hand on his arm, stopping him. “You have to understand something here, Maximus. Not everything is cut and dry. These things with the demons are—” Just then, he glanced up, spotting something falling fast from above them. He pushed Max out of the way. “Watch out!”
They both ducked as a medium-sized flower pot hit the ground at their feet, breaking into large shards and throwing dirt everywhere. Max put his hand to his chest and pushed back from the wall, looking at Damian to make sure he was okay. Slowly, they looked up at the window overhead to find Rose standing there with her hand over her mouth.
The old woman gasped then forced a huge smile across her lips. Her eyes flashed from red back to green too quickly for anyone but Damian to notice. Then again, he had been trained to look for that—fifteen years’ worth of trained.
She lowered her hand from her mouth and leaned farther out the window. “I’m so sorry. I nearly knocked that young priest right out. You would have had a lump the size of your fist on your head. I am just so clumsy sometimes. I was hanging up these towels, and my elbow just hit it. Are you all right?”
Max smiled. “I’m fine. We’re fine down here. The lucky thing is it missed us both.”
Rose smiled, trying not to sneer. “It must be the angels watching out for you. Again, I am so sorry.”
Damian raised an eyebrow at her but waved. “It’s all right, Rose. Are you okay?”
She patted her hands on her apron. “Oh, yes, yes. Not a scratch on me. Funny, too. I just repotted that cactus yesterday. It was nothing but dirt in that pot.”
Max was completely oblivious to the red tint in her eyes. “Can I help you clean it up?”
She waved off his offer. “Oh, heavens no. It was my mess to begin with, and I almost injured you in the process by me being so clumsy. I’m about to do my daily sweep anyway so it will be something to keep me busy for a while.”
The young man shook the dirt from the top of his shoe. “Okay, well if you need anything, you just let us know. We’ll be at the house for a while.”
She waved. “I appreciate it. I do pretty good on my own, at least for someone my age.”
Damian gave her a comforting smile. “You do fabulous, like a spring chicken.”
She giggled, the color flitting back and forth in her eyes. As the guys turned to walk away, she called again. “Oh, Max. Did you happen to get to try the biscotti I made fresh for you?”
“Not yet, Ms. Rose. I will definitely have it with my afternoon tea. It looked absolutely delicious.” He wrote himself a note while he was talking to not forget the biscotti.
She half smiled. “Let me know how you like it. I can always bring over more if you finish it.”
He waved. “Thanks so much. We’ll catch up with you soon. Duty calls.”
Rose shooed them with her hands. “Of course. Don’t let me get in the way of you and the church’s work. You are two very important men. I can tell.”
Damian put his arm around his companion’s shoulder and glanced back at Rose. “Have a wonderful afternoon.”
Max tapped his pencil against the book. “I gotta remember to try the biscotti. I never did like those things too much, but she made it, so I guess I should try it.”
He leaned in close to him and whispered. “If I were you, I wouldn’t eat the biscotti or anything else that Rose sends over for you.”
The trainee jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. “Why? It all smelled so good. She said she would make us a peach cobbler later this week.”
Damian patted him on the back. “Just trust me on this one. Take it graciously then throw it in the trash. You will thank me for it. I promise.”
The two of them walked into the garage and shut the door behind them. Rose walked out into the courtyard and narrowed her eyes, grimacing at the pot on the ground. She wasn’t upset about the broken pot so much as the fact that she just kept missing them at every turn. Her eyes flashed as she swept up the ceramic shards, pushing them into the dustpan.
After about three hours of planning and taking inventory, they had finally figured out exactly what they would take and what to pack it in. Damian sat back in an armchair he’d had Max put in the garage and sipped his coffee. The trainee, on the other hand, groaned and grunted as he lifted a large chest of tools into the back of the SUV.
Damian pointed to the open space inside. “Don’t put that too far up in case we get more equipment. You wouldn’t want it to slide around and hit a box of ammo. Also, make sure you secure the tool chest to that well in the side of the wall.”
Max grabbed two straps and climbed into the back to secure it tightly. He scooted to the edge of the vehicle and hopped down, picking up one of the last duffel bags to go inside. It weighed about seventy-five pounds, and he couldn’t remember exactly what they had put in there.
He placed the bag gently in the open space and leaned against the door. “How did I turn into your slave?” He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at his companion.
Damian laughed and took a sip of his coffee. “It’s all part of the training. You are learning how to load gear and what you will need for an exorcism. Think about if I wasn’t here. You would have to do this on your own. One of the most important parts of the whole process is having everything that you need.”
“I think we packed the kitchen sink simply because you wanted to see me carry it,” he grumped.
“I remember the first time I ever fought a demon as a Damned. I was the kid carrying around the medic’s bag, picking up after the mercs, and pretty much being their errand boy. Everyone goes through it, even the priests. Think of it as a rite of passage kind of thing. I bet you that for the rest of your days, you will remember to strap the tool chest down.” Damian pointed at him and tried to hide the smile on his face with his coffee cup.
Max scoffed as he picked up another duffel bag. “If I ever get to train someone, I am going to help them every step of the way.”
Damian put his cup down and leaned forward. “You say that, but I can promise you that you will take that back. Load-in is a serious thing. We were loading entire military planes full of the things that we needed. We had to do it on the fly, too. We maybe had ten minutes to decide what to take and then thirty to fill a military cargo plane. It was a rush, but by already knowing everything we needed, we rarely got caught with our pants down.”
Max stared at him for a moment. “Why do I feel like you are bullshitting me?”
He picked up the newspaper and swallowed his drink of coffee. “Language!”
Damian looked in the mirror, straightening his blue-and-white striped bow tie. Satisfied, he pulled his suspenders out and snapped them back before putting on his long trench coat. He pushed his pistols into their holsters and stroked his beard with his hand. After
the time of inactivity, he felt rusty, but he knew as soon as he got to the hotel that feeling would blow away with the wind.
He looked down at the time and clicked off the table lamp before grabbing his wide-brimmed, worn-out black hat and heading out to the garage. Damian walked out to find Max standing at the back of the truck in a pair of slacks, a white button-up, and a wide silver tie. His eyes skimmed down, landing on his black Chuck Taylors, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “You look good, kid. Real good.”
“Thanks.” Max smiled and tossed him the keys as he walked past.
They slid into the vehicle and Damian pulled out his phone, putting the coordinates the Secretary sent him into the GPS. He opened the garage door with the remote, and they pulled out and down the cobblestone drive to the street.
Max reached up and turned the radio down. “I was wondering if you would maybe let me in on what we are going to be doing? You know, what job are we rolling out to?”
Damian slapped his forehead. “I almost forgot to tell you. I don’t know what I was thinking. Sorry. We are headed out to an old abandoned hotel, recently acquired by an organization funded by the church. They are trying to knock the hotel down to build a community center. The problem is that the place has an entity living in it.”
The younger man looked confused. “Like a ghost?”
He glanced at him. “More like a cross between a poltergeist and a demon. At least, that was what it looked like from the videos I was sent.”
Max glanced down at the phone. “Can I watch them?”
Damian shook his head. “No need to make yourself scared. We are going either way, so it’s better to simply roll in head first and confident. Anyway, we are to find the source and exorcise it right out of the hotel and into the next life. This will allow them to continue construction.”
He swallowed hard but kept his shoulders back, attempting to stay as calm and collected as he could. Still, he could feel the nerves running through him since it would be his first real exorcism of that magnitude. Sure, he had seen small exorcisms of spirits and evil forces in the body but never something like what his mentor was describing.
