They had pulled up at UBS Bank. Pablo had never seen anything like it. The building looked Gothic, with three ornate head sculptures flanked by serpents climbing what appeared to be poles, standing as sentinels over the entrance. He had known that serpents usually meant medicine in Greek mythology, but he hadn’t been sure what it meant in a bank. The inside had been very stuffy, with the feel and look of a museum, not a bank.
The woman at the giant desk in the front could not have been more bemused by them, or their request to see their host. To the right of her desk had been the normal banking counters, and to the left had been a beautifully decorated waiting room that even had an Espresso Machine. That was where Pablo and James had waited.
They hadn’t waited long, though, before a towering blond man in a very nicely tailored suit had appeared. After exchanging initial congenialities, he had led them off. Pablo had noticed that the man’s feet must have been at least a size 18.
The man’s name had been Adolph Ludgow, and he had been James’s personal banker at UBS. James had known him for the past year-and-a-half and hadn’t known a single thing about the man other than that he was a Senior Bank Officer. As a matter of fact, that’s what James had loved most about this man, his absolute lack of curiosity. Adolph had already been prepped about the nature of the visit, and had already been given the preliminary information the day before.
The visit had lasted less than an hour, culminating with Pablo receiving unlimited access to the account. It had been finalized with Pablo receiving his account access number and his fingerprints being digitally recorded. Technology had advanced a little further since James had last visited, requiring both of them to give a retinal scan before they left. Apparently, this had been reserved for very large accounts such as theirs.
In less than an hour, Pablo Jairo Manuel had joined a very elite group of people in the world that had more money than they could spend in a lifetime. The valet had pulled the car up, and James had tipped him as they had gotten into the car and left. As James had pulled into traffic, Pablo had looked back at the entrance of the bank toward the ornate statues again.
He had wondered what the significance of having them there was, and had told himself to obtain that knowledge later. Pablo had been getting to the point that he believed he knew everything, and it really bothered him to have something staring at him that he had no file for.
Just like that, they had pulled away, and it had been done.
James had asked, “Are you hungry?” Pablo had been.
After lunch, they had gone shopping and opened a regular bank account for Pablo’s new alias, Arturo Castanada, at Habib Bank. They had created it complete with Pablo’s first ATM card (even if his real name hadn’t been on it). The initial deposit had been $100,000.
On the ride back to the Hedge, they had both been quiet again, which seemed to have been happening more often. Pablo had noticed that James barely touched his lunch. Everywhere they had gone, if there was a place to sit, James would take advantage of it.
Even though Pablo had known so much, he had found out on a simple outing that he knew so little, too. Yes, it was true that Jeremy had taught him a lot of social graces in two years, but he had been a long way from polished. He had been a quick learner, though, he had thought, allowing himself a small grin.
He had looked at his reflection in the mirror on the visor of the passenger seat, pretending to get out a bothersome eyelash. The reflection looking back at him had been a scared man/boy, a man/boy who would soon be on his own, barring a miracle. Pablo had looked deeper into the mirror and began to have that sensation again. The fear and anxiety had been gone. Soon he had been standing alone at the top of the world, looking down, unafraid. He had begun having a real vision again.
He had felt that sensation of walking through a thick cloud, and suddenly he had been on the other side. He had been on some ethereal plane, and now he had been walking through a thickly wooded area. The path had been well worn, and every now and then, snakes had darted across the trail. More and more of them had darted as he had made his way toward what appeared to be a clearing. Each and every time one had crossed his path, he’d had a feeling of foreboding.
He had entered the clearing, and there had been his family having an outing inside a white gazebo. All of them had been there. He had tried to communicate, but he had not been in their realm. His mama and papa had been sitting in the gazebo drinking tea, and the kids had been eating cake. They had been talking about something funny, laughing periodically.
Pablo had been so transfixed that he had never seen Jasmine sneak up and stand next to him, but when he had gone to take a step he had almost toppled over her. After righting himself, he had noticed that she could see him. Before he had been able to talk to her, she had said one sentence, and then he had been released from the vision.
His conscious-self had popped back into the car with James. He had been in shock at the reality of what had just happened. He had been about to tell James when the gravity of what she said had hit him with full force: “He chose you.” Three words were all she had said, but it was three words that shook Pablo to the core of his religious beliefs.
In that fugue, he had also gotten an unshakable confirmation that he was going to be used as the messenger and executioner of God’s Will, that he was now the voice and hammer of the Meek.
The power that existed on earth that had upset Jesus the most was money. Like everyone else, Pablo had known the story of Him turning over the tables at the Temple, and of the Rich Man who had gone away sad when Jesus had told him to sell his possessions and give the money to the poor if he wanted to be perfect.
These were stories that Pablo had heard over and over, but now he had been able to feel that these were not wives’ tales after all, but real stories. This hadn’t been some hunch, either. It had been something in his gut that had been telling him this had not been like any other kind of intuition he’d ever felt. It had felt more like a direct message from God, in the form of a fugue-like state where time had no meaning.
He had felt what seemed like an hour pass, but in reality, it had been mere minutes when he had come back. He’d had no sensation, other than a feeling of low voltage that coursed through his body, voltage that kept him aware he was in a dreamlike state. A living being was not supposed to be in that realm, and the voltage, he had inferred, had meant that he was the one out of place there.
His family members had been where they were supposed to be, while he had been out of place. That was when he had realized that Julio was not there. What significance that held, he hadn’t been sure. There had been no doubt that in the end, once back on this side, he’d had information that had not been there before the fugue. The best explanation he had been able to come up with was that God gave him a download, and one that was a doozy.
The vision seemed to have communicated some pretty definite things he was supposed to accomplish, yet with little clue as to how to accomplish them. Pablo had held the knowledge in his head as if he’d learned it in school, only he hadn’t. He’d had a pretty good idea of where the knowledge came from, and although it had been mystifying, Pablo had been left with no doubt that the information had been inspired.
He had been given the direction that he was to stand high on a mountain and look down on the world. He was to see all that was unfolding from as high of a vantage point as he could get to, so that there was a separation between him and the earth. In his non-fugue state, he had already thought of a way he could get even higher than a mountain, at least with his eyes. He was to stand as the Judge, which really made a lot of sense.
But then something inside the fugue happened that hadn’t made sense at all. A hand had slipped into his, and he had been able to clearly see her face. She had been lovely, and they had looked down together. I’m not to do this alone? How can I do the job if I’m tethered by love? Isn’t that why my family was taken?
Pablo had been about to make some hard choices, which would cause so
me to vilify him as the world’s next megalomaniac. So how could he be tied to someone else? He was about to devastate the elite, making him a champion to the other ninety-five percent of the earth’s population.
Feeling the lightheadedness of the fugue fade, Pablo had looked out the window as they were passing the perfect little farm. The whole family had happened to be out. Their pre-teen kids had been washing a dog that looked more like a horse than a dog. They had been laughing, and the boy had just hosed the girl unexpectedly. The girl had been protesting and attempting to retaliate by throwing a wet cloth, but it had missed badly to the left, which had earned her another spraying.
The parents had been loading the contents of their harvest out of a pull-cart and into their truck. Pablo had been able to see writing on the panel of the truck door advertising that the truck was powered by natural gas. These people had been ahead of the game. Sooner rather than later, this would be the norm for mankind, not the exception.
Pablo had realized that all man really needed was to return to a simple existence. All this technology and money were just ideas that were bad, and no one had stopped them. Money was a way for evil people to gain power over other people—good people never sought to lord over anyone. Pablo had known this because he had never sought to lord over anyone. His plan, once initiated, would take on a life of its own, and no one could stop it once the ball was rolling. Truthfully, no one could’ve stopped me before, and that was before God’s Will was being played out through my hands.
He had looked at James and said, “We need to talk.”
* * *
Bob Thompson spoke across the desk to Steve Hatten. They were in a room set aside for telecommunications, and it awarded them some needed privacy away from the war room.
“We’ve focused on the Great Basin up to Oregon and Colorado with our Recon 2 Satellite. We won’t have pass over on Number 1 and the southern area for thirty minutes. We’ve decided on the area around Baker. Our analysts say that the sparsely populated desert is a probable route.”
Steve Hatten had had his wings singed today more times than he could count, and he was in the mood to give some back, so it was without pleasantness that he addressed Bob. His slightly reddish hair was a match for his face. In fact, it was his tell. General Hatten’s face flushed as soon as he became passionate about an issue, and it usually stayed that way from that point on.
“Well, Bob, that’s fine and dandy, but what if they hopped over to Bishop or Mammoth? They both have small airports. If that’s the case, Bob, then they could be on their way to Oregon in a minivan, or having a fire in their cabin not a half hour from there. What shouldn’t have happened was them getting airborne, that was a very bad thing.”
Bob knew that wouldn’t take long. Beck’s treachery has disgraced the Agency.
“Listen Steve, I’m sorry the Chief got on you, but you’re an old hat, you don’t need to be told what that was about. Now let’s not start pointing fingers. Every agency, or branch is subject to personnel malfunctions and nothing can be done about it. People fail. It’s an imperfect world, Steve, and you know it. Now if we put our minds together, we can catch these scumbags, and this can be in the rearview mirror, soon to be replaced by the next crisis. I have a feeling they’re trying to get out of the pool rather than hunker down. We just have to figure out where.”
* * *
Doug had flown over the mountains what felt like a million times over the past year. He had flown all over the state, but on Ameraflight trade routes, and with flight plans. He had always wanted to free fly like that, just like a bush pilot. He had to admit, he felt very alive for a guy who was as close to dying as he was.
“So, Matt, what do we do when we get to the circle on that map? Do you know where the airfield is? Do you know who’s going to meet us?”
Matt looked confused. Then he realized that Doug knew his name even though he had never told it to him. Doug caught the look and asked, “What?”
Matt admitted to Doug that he was momentarily thrown off when he used his first name, because he knew he had never provided it. Then he remembered the TV in the diner.
“Well, at least I know you’re a sharp one,” Doug replied, laughing at him. “You’re currently the most wanted man in American history! The President asked the people to turn the country into an episode of America’s Most Wanted to look for you. Everyone is going to know your name. Your working for ‘many people’ days might be over, unless you have a good plastic surgeon.”
Matt thought about that. “Hmm, I guess there might even be a movie in the works for this one. I hope someone cool plays me.”
Doug thought about that too and added, “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind Christian Slater to play my part. He’s always so cool.”
They allowed a brief bonding moment, but before it could go further, the phone in Vera’s backpack began to ring. Apparently, he had not turned it off when he had replaced it, and now it was ringing from a blocked number.
Matt answered unsteadily, “Hello?”
“¿Dónde está Vera?”
“Um, do you speak English?”
“No hablo English. ¿Dónde está Vera?”
Matt turned to Doug. “Do you know any Spanish?”
“No,” Doug replied.
He looked back at Vera. There was no way she would be able to talk, but he tried. He unbuckled and went back.
“Vera, hey, can you talk to these guys?” He held up the phone. “Vera?”
Nothing. He quickly abandoned her and went back to his seat, saying one word into the receiver, “Bategues. We go to Bategues.” Matt used a fake Spanish accent that came out whenever he was trying to speak Spanglish to a person that didn’t speak English very well. Like that’s going to help. It’s about as useful as talking louder.
As soon as he was done, he opened the phone, took out the battery, and broke the phone with his bare hands.
“Why did you do that?” Doug asked.
“She did it earlier,” Matt replied. “I don’t know if it worked or not, but at least there’s a chance now they know we’re coming.”
Matt thought about that for a second and decided that he would turn the other phone on, since they hadn’t used it yet.
* * *
James had looked more than quizzical. “You want me to seriously believe this? You’re not playing some elaborate hoax to bring some kind of ‘God Experience’ to my life?”
One look from the boy and he had known it was no joke, but this had been too much. James had needed time to absorb this information. He had broken off to think in his room.
Divine Intervention? Will of God? James, of all the people in the world, had understood the full scope of what could be if this child were to become hell-bent on something like revenge. But this had been different, and Pablo’s belief in the reality of his vision had been unwavering.
James had been doing a lot of thinking about God lately, like most dying people. People wanted to believe so badly that the lights just didn’t go out, or as Stephen Hawking put it, that the computer didn’t just power down one last time. Now this boy was claiming that he was a Biblical character, that he was the Harbinger of Change, appointed by the Hand of God! The kid had been through so much, and it would have been so easy to write this off as some fantasy, or some kind of coping mechanism. Except that this kid had not been an average teenager.
As a matter of fact, he had been like no teenager that had ever walked the earth. James had felt that Pablo was so far ahead of where he was at the same age, that it was like comparing a five-year-old against an adult.
James had pondered the boy’s exact recount of the visions, or fugues, or whatever they were. The visions had been very detailed, and the plan that had been put forth into Pablo’s head had been very specific. A plan Pablo will need my help with to pull off the right way. Lord above, though, what would really happen to the world if that really transpired? James had fallen asleep after that, thinking to himself, God, what would really happen if th
at transpired?
As it turned out, he had found out that night in his sleep. Like in the Bible, it came in the form of a dream. Waking up from that dream, the next morning James had become the Agent for the “Harbinger of Change.”
A shocked and bewildered Pablo had sat at the breakfast alcove and asked, “What the hell, James? It wasn’t like I was asking you to borrow the car here. I’m asking you to help change the world, and that change will be especially hard on the U.S., a very spoiled place, and a place where your parents still live. Now I have to ask you, what gives? Why would you just cave in on this without trying to talk me out of it? We’re the two greatest minds in the world, how can you just accept this so easily? I expected to win this argument over a period of time, not just have you agree carte blanche. This is too easy, and it reeks of you placating me for some reason. So please tell me now what that reason is.”
He had looked at the boy, who definitely had his hackles up. He had imparted as much empathy as he could in a glance of sincerity. He had simply said, “You’re not the only one with dreams, boy, both aspirationally and literally.”
Pablo had gotten it. James had had his own epiphany, and had come on board! And then it had clicked, all of it, James included. It had been God’s set-up for him from the start. All of it had been destined to be from the time he was born—as long as James was being sincere, that was.
He had pondered the reality that his master was really his servant. Right then Eva had dropped a wonderful plate of eggs, potatoes, and sausage in front of him, which of course tore his mind out of thought. She had also given him his first smile in a while, as she showed a little cleavage when she bent down. He was a teenage boy after all, and that better have caught his attention, or they’d have to check him for a pulse.
She had walked out of the breakfast alcove, and he had looked at James one more time and resumed, “So, I tell you a fantastic tale of God and purpose the day you give me access to a hundred and ten million dollars. You not only didn’t go to the bank first thing this morning and undo what you did, but now you’re trying to tell me you’re on board with a cryptic sentence and a pat on the back? Why must you be so mired in subterfuge? I told you my biggest secret, one that could make me look crazy, and you won’t tell me yours?!”
The Harbinger of Change Page 20
