A Sacred Storm

by Dominic C. James

  “I need longer, much longer. I am going to go back to Rome, to the Vatican. I need to be somewhere familiar.”

  Mackenzie began to panic. “For Christ’s sake, Jonathan! Do something will you. I thought we had this all sorted.”

  Ayres tried to keep his cool. “Come, Christiano,” he said. “I know you’re confused, but that is why we have written your speeches for you. You have to trust that we know what is best for the people of the world.”

  “No, Jonathan, I do not trust that. I have come to realize that you only want what is best for you. You only want that which gives you the most power. It is the same with all of you. I have had enough of being told what to say and what to do. I am the Messiah, I shall keep my own counsel from now on.” He took Sophia’s hand and started to walk off.

  “Listen here, Christiano,” said Mackenzie. “You have a responsibility to the people of the United States. You came here to give an address and we expect you to do it. I cannot allow you to leave until you do.” He nodded to his Secret Service men who stood in front of Christiano blocking his way.

  “I suggest you remove yourselves,” said Christiano.

  The men didn’t move.

  “Very well,” he said.

  Ayres felt his spine tingle with fear. “No!” he yelled.

  It was too late. The men were already on their knees choking. Christiano breezed past and turned to face Ayres and Mackenzie.

  “I want a helicopter outside on the lawn in five minutes.”

  “Listen here, Christiano…” Mackenzie started. Before he could finish his sentence he felt what he thought was an electric shock pass through his body and slam him against the wall.

  Christiano looked down at him coldly. “Five minutes,” he said.

  Chapter 83

  Stratton coughed heavily and reached for his left side, the momentum taking him from his chair. He lay on the floor of the conference room writhing as the pain took hold once again. Cronin, who was nearest, rushed to his aid, but was fended away by a flailing hand.

  “No!” spluttered Stratton. “Keep away!”

  Cronin stepped back in confusion.

  “It’s alright,” said Jennings. “The same thing happened yesterday. I tried to help him and got thrown back across the room for my troubles. Give him a minute and he’ll be okay.”

  Cronin was dubious but sat back down and waited with the others for Stratton to regain control. Bob Tobin watched curiously.

  Half a minute later Stratton was back on his feet. He returned to his chair and took a drink of water.

  “I take it something bad’s happened then,” said Jennings.

  “I guess it must have done,” said Stratton. “I’ve no idea what though.”

  “Could somebody enlighten me as to what’s going on here?” asked Tobin.

  “It’s like we told you before,” said Jennings. “Stratton’s well-being is linked to whatever’s going on around us. At points when something terrible is happening the pain becomes more acute. It happened yesterday just after the Mahdi was assassinated.”

  Tobin was about to speak again when Greg Albany burst into the room. “You’re still here,” he said, catching his breath. “Good. I was worried you might have gone.”

  “What’s up, Greg?” asked Grady.

  “It’s Christiano. He’s attacked the President.”

  “What?!”

  “Behind the press room just now. He took out a couple of Secret Service and then turned on Mackenzie.”

  “How the hell did he take out two men?” asked Tobin.

  “We don’t exactly know. They just crumbled in front of him. The President was thrown against the wall. It seemed like he did it with his mind.”

  “Jesus!” said Grady. “What’s happening now then?”

  “Christiano’s waiting for a chopper to take him to the airbase so that he can get a plane back to Rome. It doesn’t look like we can do anything to stop him – unless…” He looked to Stratton.

  “I’m not sure what I can do,” said Stratton. “I’m not in the best shape at the moment. Perhaps it’s best to let him go if that’s what he wants.”

  “And let him get away with assaulting the President?”

  “If you have to, yes.”

  “But we need him to make his speech to the people. We need him to pacify their fears. You know the position we’re at. We need him visibly backing the President and his Administration.”

  “You can’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to,” said Stratton. “I expect that’s how this all started in the first place. You’re going to have to let him go otherwise the situation will only get worse.”

  “If we let him go then the situation will definitely get worse,” said Albany. “These are troubling times for the United States and people need reassuring. The President’s word alone just isn’t cutting it. Can’t you at least try and talk to him – you’re the only one who might be able to understand what he’s going through.”

  “That’s rich,” said Stella. “Half an hour ago you lot were saying that our claims were a load of rubbish. And now you suddenly believe that we were telling the truth?”

  “The decision was nothing to do with me,” said Albany. “And it wasn’t a slight on the validity of your claims. It was solely a matter of expedience. For what it’s worth I believed you from the start – I’ve been suspicious about these so called ‘Messiahs’ from the moment they appeared. It always seemed a bit convenient that they turned up at almost exactly the same time. But look, we haven’t got time to argue about it, the chopper will be here any minute. Will you try and talk to him?”

  Stratton nodded. “I suppose I’d better. But I’m only doing it to try and calm him down. He’s dangerous at the moment and that’s no good for anybody. I’m not going to try and persuade him to do your dirty work.”

  “Thanks,” said Albany. “Follow me and I’ll take you to him.”

  He led them through the building at speed, fending off questions from passing staff with a dismissive wave of his hand. Jennings walked beside Stratton helping him along as the pace increased. It hadn’t surprised Jennings that Christiano had started to display signs of aggression, his own experience of Reiki attunement may not have been on the same scale but it had certainly caused him a few anxious moments when he felt unable to stay in control. Given the wrong circumstances he could see how easy it would be for someone to get carried away with the flow of energy. Sometimes the power was so strong it left you without a will of your own.

  Christiano was waiting outside with Sophia. The sky was grey and steadily blackening. Stratton walked across to join them, leaving the others inside. Christiano eyed him with suspicion as he approached.

  “Who are you?” he asked with a scowl.

  “My name’s Stratton. I’ve come to see if you’re alright,” he said in bad Italian. He held out his hand. Christiano took it, but flinched at the touch and withdrew.

  “Have you really come to see if I’m alright?” he grumbled. “Or are you here to try and keep me here like the others. If you have then I suggest you leave.”

  “I’m not trying to keep you anywhere. It’s none of my concern whether you stay here or not.”

  “Well, what is your concern then?”

  “My concern is you. I know what you are, Christiano, and I know what you are not.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You know exactly what it means. It means that I know you are not the Messiah. I know where your power comes from.”

  Sophia looked at her love questioningly. “What does he mean, Christiano?”

  “I don’t know what he means. I am the Messiah and no-one should question my divinity.”

  A soft rain began to fall.

  “I’m not here to argue with you, Christiano, I’m here to help you,” said Stratton. “I know what the Church have done to you. I know that Vittori and Ayres have given you too much power and tried to corrupt you for their own purpose. And I know that
if you carry on the way your going you will destroy yourself, and possibly the world.”

  “And how do you know all this?”

  “I just do.”

  “That is no answer.”

  “I haven’t got time for the long answer. I’m just here to let you know that you’re not alone. I know all about the symbols and I know how to use them too. I know what you’re going through. I know about the light and the darkness, and I know about the visions and the confusion. I can help you control your emotions and harness your power properly.”

  “I do not need help from you or anybody else. I am the one with the knowledge. I am the one with the power. Nobody is going to tell me what to do anymore.”

  The sound of rotor blades grew loud overhead.

  “I don’t want to tell you what to do! I just want to help you!” yelled Stratton, trying to be heard over the approaching helicopter.

  “Listen to him, Christiano!” Sophia pleaded, her hair flowing in the downdraft. “You don’t have to do this alone!”

  Christiano hesitated for a moment and then took Sophia’s hand and led her towards the waiting chopper. She looked briefly to Stratton and then resigned herself to leaving.

  Stratton watched them climb aboard and rise up into the darkness.

  Chapter 84

  The battle of Bretch Hill raged on. The rioters had been subdued briefly by tear gas, but it hadn’t taken them long to regroup and return even more frenzied than before. Paul Smith and his small group had retreated once again and were awaiting fresh orders. He looked up into the ominous sky and felt the hope drain from his soul.

  “I think this is it,” said Graham.

  “What’s that? asked Paul.

  “Just it. I’ve got a bad feeling in my bones about this one. It feels like the end of the world.” He pointed upwards. “Look at that. I can’t even tell what time of day it is anymore. It’s permanently black.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Paul. “And the worst thing is that it’s silent and still. It feels like there’s something massive happening up there, but it’s taking an age to brew.”

  “How can you tell if it’s silent with all this noise going on behind us?”

  “I can just tell.” He pulled out his cigarettes and offered one to Graham.

  “Cheers, mate. I don’t suppose it matters how much we smoke now, we’re not going have time to develop lung cancer.”

  “No, I guess not,” laughed Paul. He drew a flask from his pocket. “How about a little nip of the good stuff?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  A hundred yards away the riot continued.

  “You’d think they’d have got tired by now,” said Graham. “I mean, how long have they been at it? Must be a good four or five hours.”

  Paul checked his watch. “Yeah, it’s getting on for that. Maybe it’ll cool off once they get hungry. Perhaps everyone will stop for tea, like in the old days.”

  Graham swigged at the flask and handed it back to Paul. “Cheers, mate, that’s hit the spot. That’ll be it for me though. Need to stay alert.”

  “Yeah,” Paul nodded. “It’s going to be a long night.” He put the flask back in his pocket and took a lungful of smoke.

  Out of the gloom the shadowy figure of Alan Rigsby approached. He drew up quickly and knelt down to speak to his men. “It’s bad news, guys, I’m afraid. I’ve just had the order.”

  “What?” said Graham. “The order.”

  Rigsby nodded gravely.

  The men took one last drag of their cigarettes and threw them to the floor. They checked their weapons and formed a line and marched forward into the warzone.

  Chapter 85

  Stratton stood in the rain and listened as the helicopter faded into the distance. The look in Christiano’s eyes had disturbed him. Whoever he had been before was long departed and all that remained was a fiery torrent of confused energy. He hoped he was wrong, but his gut told him that the young man was probably beyond recall. With a heavy heart he walked back into the White House.

  “What happened?” asked Jennings. “Did he try and do anything bad to you?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Stratton. “If he did then it didn’t work. I don’t think he was interested in hurting anyone else, I think he just wanted to get away.”

  “He’s still dangerous though, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he’s still dangerous. Very dangerous.”

  Greg Albany led them back through the numerous corridors to the conference room. President Mackenzie and his small committee were waiting for them at the table. Jonathan Ayres and Cardinal Vittori had joined them.

  Jennings took one look at the Prime Minister and flipped. “Ayres! You fucking snake!” he shouted.

  He made a lunge for the table, but Grady held him back.

  “Not now, buddy. Leave it for another time. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

  Jennings muttered under his breath then simmered down slowly and took a seat alongside Stella and Stratton. He asked one of the aides to bring him a coffee.

  “I take it you didn’t have any luck with our young friend then?” said Mackenzie, addressing Stratton.

  “No. I’m not sure if there’s anything we can do about him. He’s been given too much power too soon. His head’s exploding with concepts that he can’t possibly understand.”

  “Of course he understands them,” said Ayres. “He’s the Son of God – he understands everything.”

  Mackenzie gave the Prime Minister a harsh look. “I think we all know that Christiano is not the Son of God, Jonathan, so let’s just cut the bullshit. I think you’ve done enough lying already.”

  Ayres opened his mouth and then shut it again.

  “Good,” said Mackenzie. “Now that we’re all agreed, let’s decide what we’re going to do about him. About this whole fucked-up situation.”

  “So you agree with us now then do you?” said Stella.

  “I didn’t disagree with you in the first place,” said Mackenzie. “But I have to do what’s in the best interest of the country. The circumstances have changed now, and if you might have the good grace to accept my apologies then we can start to address the new position. Is that okay with you?”

  Stella nodded.

  “Good,” said Mackenzie. “Now let’s get down to business. Has anybody got any ideas as to how we deal with Christiano? It seems pretty clear that he’s going his own way now.”

  “But which way?” said General Perry. “We’ve got no idea what he’s going to do next. He’s a loose cannon, and if you ask me he needs to be taken out of the equation..”

  “And how do you suggest we do that, General?” asked Ayres. “Bullets are no good against him.”

  “No, they’re not,” admitted Perry. “But I don’t think even he could stop a missile.” He looked at his watch. “He’ll be flying over the Atlantic in about an hour, a long way from our shores. We can pick the plane off then.”

  “What about the other people on board?” said Vittori. “Sophia is the daughter of a very good friend of mine.”

  “There may be a few civilian casualties, but that can’t be helped I’m afraid, Your Eminence.”

  “This is not what we want,” said Vittori. “Not what we want at all. I do not think that killing Christiano will help our cause in any way whatsoever. It will just make a martyr of him, exactly like the Mahdi. And besides, it is immoral.”

  “Immoral?” said Perry, eyebrows raised. “Forgive me, Your Eminence, but having heard the full story of what you’ve done, I don’t think you’re in any position to take the moral high-ground with us. You and your little gofer here,” he waved his hand at Ayres, “haven’t exactly been boy scouts have you? We know you had the Mahdi killed, and I suspect that he isn’t the only one who’s died during this little contrivance of yours. I’m guessing that between the two of you there’s more blood on your hands than the rest of us put together.”

  “I resent that,” said Vittori, becoming visibly f
lustered.

  “Well,” said Perry. “Resent it or not, it’s true. I think you should stop trying to fool everyone with your pious act, because everyone at this table knows what you are.”

  Vittori bowed his head and fell silent.

  “Good,” said Perry. “Now that we all know what’s what, let’s get down to business. Does anyone else object to our shooting the plane down?”

  A chorus of yeses echoed round the table.

  “Okay,” said Perry. “Can somebody enlighten me as to why?”

  “For the same reason we don’t want you nuking the Middle East or anywhere else,” said Stratton. “Because none of this is going to be resolved by killing anybody. We’ve already stated our case to you, General. The only way to avoid Armageddon is for everybody to just stop the violence. No more aggression and no more retaliation. You need to get this message across to the whole world by whatever means possible. And you need to start everything off by laying down your own weapons.”

  “We may as well pull our trousers down and ask Johnny Arab to fuck us up the ass with a nuke. There is no way I’m going to allow this country to lay itself open to attack.”

  “I don’t think it’s your decision,” said Stratton, looking to Mackenzie.

  “Listen, General,” said Grady. “As a rule I’d be right behind you one hundred percent on this one. But if you’d seen the shit that I have over the last six months then you might think differently. I agree that what he’s saying goes against every instinct we have, but if he says that’s the way to go, then I think that we should listen. Whether we sense them or not, there’s powers in this world,” he opened his arms, “in this universe if you will, that are greater than anything mankind could possibly create itself. This isn’t a case of logic or military strategy anymore, this all comes down to faith and bravery.”

  “There’s a thin line between bravery and stupidity, Mr Grady.”

  “Yes, there is, and if you don’t listen to Stratton then you’ve crossed over into stupidity.” He turned to Mackenzie. “What do you think, Mr President? Ultimately it’s your decision.”