The Devil's Paradise

by Aiden James

  He signaled to Rafael, who then moved over to one of the Indian men sitting at the control station. Once again, they spoke in the Spanish/Aymara dialect that even Jack was beginning to recognize, though he still had no idea what was said between the two. Immediately, the images on the map began to change, and a moment later eight distinct tower-like forms of gold began to slowly move across the topographical map toward Alabama.

  Two moved from the Pacific Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico after crossing over the lower Mexican peninsula, while another moved north from the coast of Central America. Four others moved across the Atlantic Ocean until they also reached the Gulf of Mexico, while the last one moved from Mississippi into its neighboring state of Alabama. When the images stopped moving, the tower from Mississippi sat atop Tuscaloosa while the other seven were gathered in a slight arc just south of Alabama in the Gulf of Mexico.

  “As you can tell, very soon the eight deities will all have arrived in Tuscaloosa,” said Francisco. “According to the weather reports we received while you were away from the castle, at present there are severe tropical storm and hurricane warnings stretching from Texas to the Florida panhandle. By the time we arrive in Alabama, hopefully in the mid-evening hours, much of the area from the Gulf on up to Birmingham will have already been evacuated.”

  “That’s some serious shit,” observed Jeremy.

  “Yes, it is,” Francisco agreed. “Already this year, North and South America have seen an earlier start to the tropical storm and hurricane season than normal. The system shrouding the two towers coming from the Pacific has been mistakenly classified as another early hurricane, or cyclone. You may recall hearing reports about ‘Hurricane Charlise’ late last week. It has spawned very unusual tornado activity, similar to the unusual tornado sightings in eastern Mississippi and western Alabama. Only in this case, the violent storms took place earlier this week just north of Acapulco until the system moved into the Gulf of Mexico near Vera Cruz on Tuesday.

  “Normally, tropical storms and hurricanes rapidly weaken when crossing dry land. The fact the system survived nearly intact as it moved across the peninsula is an extremely rare event. Only in cases where a hurricane makes landfall over a very moist region, where surface evaporation is unchanged, can they intensify into a full-blown tropical storm again. But that was not the case here.

  “You can certainly imagine the surprise that your National Hurricane Center in Miami got when they watched the system maintain its vigor after crossing a fairly arid region on the way to the Gulf of Mexico. My guess would be their surprise grew even bigger once they tracked its course toward another hurricane coming up north through the Gulf, the one they’re calling ‘Hurricane Baca’.

  “By now your country’s meteorologists and other scientists have realized that neither system is natural in origin,” he continued. “It is our belief they have already noted the unusual formations near the ‘eyes’ of both of these systems, since the convection surrounding the ‘eyewall’ usually becomes organized into distinct rings. In this case the phenomenon is absent, and instead, the glowing auras of the towers are clearly evident in many of the satellite images that have been aired over the past few days.

  “Late last night, around midnight our time, the two storms merged together. Once the towers formed the arc you see represented on the screen before you, the system set its course for Mobile, Alabama. The National Hurricane Center has hyphenated the name to ‘Baca-Charlise’ for the time being. If we do survive this, I hope they change the name to something more appropriate—something that defines the phenomenon for what it truly is. Rafael has already chided me for thinking this possible, given the world’s current political environment and the prevalent posture of hiding ‘controversial truths’ whenever possible.”

  He chuckled for a moment at the irony, and then grew serious again.

  “Now, about the contents of your backpack...I found the writings of Viktor Seiverlich, or better known as Oscar Mensch, to be quite enlightening,” he said. “I am truly thankful we took you out of there when we did, despite the fact the Cristal Del Sol’s whereabouts is not known at this time.”

  “We told you that Deshawn is taking care of it for now,” said Jeremy. “Once we track him down, we’ll have that issue resolved.”

  Francisco eyed Jeremy solemnly, as if privy to information he truly wanted to reveal, and at the same time keep secret at all costs.

  “That will be priority number one for our team when we arrive in Tuscaloosa, so hopefully your assumption on his trustworthiness is well-founded,” he said. “Perhaps a little information about Mohammed Quard-e-Lazim’s intentions when he sent this material to Viktor Seiverlich would prove helpful to you both in gaining a better understanding of what all this means on an international level.

  “The immense wealth of Dr. Quard-e-Lazim assuredly was taken from the Estella De la Sangre’s remains, and yes, the gem fragments in the backpack are genuine. We already suspected him of this, and Victor’s writings confirm our fears. I further believe that if our Vatican friends could examine the marble fragments, they would certainly agree they indeed belong to this once-massive edifice. It would interest them especially should the blood residue prove to be as old as it appears, since the only other bloodstained marble artifacts they have acknowledged until now are of the Eucharist miracles, such as the marble tiles in Bolsena, Italy.

  “We can only assume Dr. Quard-e-Lazim’s reasons for sending the nine crates and the Cristal Del Sol to his long-lost friend in the United States are far less than noble,” he continued. “Did you know he has ties to al-Quaida and other Islamic-extremist groups?”

  Stunned by this revelation, all either one could do was silently shake their heads.

  “Your government’s top agencies have watched this man closely for the past fourteen years,” explained Francisco. “Involved in the ‘9-11’ tragedy, he has funded repeated terrorist attacks throughout the world since then.”

  “Why would he bring or send such priceless items to the United States, then?” asked Jeremy. “I mean, surely he knew there was a significant risk in having these things confiscated at some point, either during their shipment to that house in Tuscaloosa or like what happened yesterday morning.”

  “The crates have probably been confiscated by the police since yesterday, right?” added Jack.

  “Very astute observations from you both,” agreed Francisco. “You are right, Jeremy, to think Dr. Quard-e-Lazim foolish to do something like this without strong incentive to do so. And, the police did seize the contents they found downstairs at the house in Tuscaloosa shortly after the Israelis left, Jack. As for Dr. Quard-e-Lazim, we already feared his motives for delivering the Estrella De la Sangre and the Cristal Del Sol to his long lost friend, Dr. Viktor Seiverlich, in America. What I have since gathered from the diary and journal entrees in the backpack confirms this. Obviously, he sent these items to be pieced back together by Dr. Seiverlich, knowing well the professor’s obsession with Ricardo De Gallies’ writings. Once the Blood Star is reborn, then Dr. Quard-e-Lazim and the Muslim world can sit back and watch the citizens of the United States perish.”

  “Not to be a devil’s advocate here, but if Dr. Quard-e-Lazim and his cohorts are following the Koran, or ‘Quran’, doesn’t this kind of thinking fly in the face of current Islamic thought and morality?” asked Jeremy.

  “Not at all, when you consider the Estrella De la Sangre omits Allah as a legitimate deity, in light of the others included as the ‘Children of Elohim’,” Francisco replied. “If America was destroyed, the few billion believers of Islamic tenets throughout the world would be inclined to believe the omission was not an indictment against Allah and their religion. Rather, they would see it as confirmation that Allah is the only true God, and that the other deities were mere demons or imposters.

  “Following this logic further, it would make complete sense for them to try and materialize the menace of the Blood Star in the most powerful Christian nation in the wor
ld, unleashing the demonic forces to destroy all the inhabitants of your country. Once their mission was complete, these entities would have no choice but to bow down to the majesty of Allah, leaving all the faithful followers of Islam safe from harm, and without their pesky ‘imperialist’ enemy to contend with.”

  The answer satisfied Jeremy, but not Jack…at least not yet.

  “Why is Allah omitted from the Blood Star?”

  Francisco turned his attention to the map while he considered Jack’s question, watching the replay of the towers’ movements over the past two days. Since Rafael advised the time was just past 12:30 p.m., he gave the brothers a summarized story of the Archangel Gabriel’s misadventure with a young visionary in Jerusalem during the seventh century A.D.

  At first impressed by the psychic gifts and tremendous potential this young man had, Gabriel satisfied this visionary’s curiosity about current and future events taking place in his Arabian homeland. It didn’t take long for the angel to regret this, as the young man returned home and eventually led a bloody coup against his kinsmen in the ancient city of Mecca, using a rogue army from Medina. With an unquenchable thirst for power and adoration, the young man, Muhammad ibn Abdullah—better known throughout the world as the Prophet Mohammed—created a religion that preyed on ignorance to hide its violent birth ever since.

  “But, even though the basis for Islam is fraudulent, do not for a moment think the purer souls who fervently call on Allah’s name for blessing and protection are ignored,” said Francisco, as the four of them returned to his study. “Elohim hears the cries of all who are righteous in His eyes—regardless of the dogmas and tenets they hold to were fabricated long ago by men.

  “The Latter Day Saints in your country are a similar lot, in that Joseph Smith once pestered Moroni in a similar fashion. Only this time, Moroni was well aware of what happened to his brother Gabriel centuries before. But, even after Moroni refused to grant Mr. Smith’s wishes for detailed information, the unscrupulous charlatan insisted the archangel himself dictated the contents of his ‘Book of Mormon’. As enraged as Moroni was over this, he believed that any man or woman who was familiar with the Bible’s scriptures would see that Joseph Smith had stolen a number of passages and added them to his Book of Mormon—many of these word for word from the King James translation of the Bible.”

  “How do you know all of this?” asked Jeremy, curious about Francisco’s effortless ease of moving from one subject to another, whether it be the true origins of Islam or the Latter Day Saints, to the nature of hurricanes and Bochicha’s emissaries or the devious designs of Dr. Quard-e-Lazim.

  “The amount of knowledge that has continually flowed to us over the centuries, whether by natural or supernatural means, would truly astound you, I am sure,” said Francisco. He suddenly glanced over at Rafael, who pointed worriedly toward the clock in the back of the room, which indicated it was now 12:40 p.m. “We can continue our discussion over lunch if you would like, or even on the plane back to Tuscaloosa.”

  “How long is the flight back?” asked Jeremy as he and Jack moved to the study’s main doorway where Rafael waited.

  “Without being hindered by weather or your country’s watchdogs, we could be there within nine to ten hours,” Francisco told him as he moved back to his desk. “I will only be another minute before I join you in the dining room for lunch.”

  He reached under his desk and pulled the backpack out from under it and asked Jeremy and Jack before they left the study if they wanted to bring it back with them. Or, would they allow him to keep it locked up safely in this Bolivian castle. Since they both wanted to return at some future point in time, they told him to keep it here.

  ***

  Francisco stayed behind to take care of some last minute preparations for their trip, as well as secure the backpack in a vault hidden in the rear of the study. Rafael needed Jeremy and Jack’s assistance on the way to the dining hall, since still getting used to his cane. Once there, they joined the other dozen men whom Francisco had picked for their journey back to the States. The recent deaths of their comrades weighed heavy on these men’s minds and hearts as they quietly picked at their meals.

  “I take it you’re actually coming along this time,” said Jeremy to Francisco, once he joined them at the table.

  “That is correct, Jeremy,” he confirmed. He whispered a quiet prayer since Rafael had already blessed the meal. “Normally that would be strictly prohibited, since only Rafael and I are truly capable to run this place. But in light of what is at stake for all of mankind, do you think I should stay here and simply wait for the outcome to be made known to me through an email, text, fax, or phone call?”

  “I see your point,” said Jeremy as he helped himself to one of the bean and meat stuffed-tortillas stacked on a tray nearby.

  “Besides, Rafael’s nephews, Ignacious and Manuel, who are the young men at work in the observation room will remain here just in case the unthinkable happens,” said Francisco as he helped himself to a tortilla.

  The rest of their meal spent in silence, they ate quickly. Francisco brought out one last brandy-dipped cigar for each of them to enjoy at meal’s end. This time, Jack decided to try one. Surprised the experience was mostly pleasant, for a moment he feared he might choke to death on a mouthful of smoke when he mistakenly inhaled it.

  Once done, the entire group reconvened in the reception area. Shortly before one-thirty Bolivian time, Rafael led them all out of the castle, taking the same route from the evening before when Jack and Jeremy first arrived. This time, Francisco filled them in on the origins of the carvings in the long cavern that separated the castle’s building from where the Order’s Jeeps were parked. Neither brother could keep from feeling uneasy, warily glancing over their shoulders as they kept thinking about the earlier attacks from Bochicha’s emissaries. It wasn’t until they emerged from the cavern that they believed Francisco’s insistence the demons would remain in the deeper passages of the mountain—at least for now.

  Once they reached the Jeeps, the group set out on the treacherous road back to where the cargo carrier waited, fueled up and ready to go. Everyone quickly boarded the plane. Jeremy and Jack returned to the same seats they had previously, and Rafael limped over to join Francisco in the seats in front of them. The carrier sputtered and then roared along the bumpy runway, causing Jack to look nervously over at Jeremy. He relaxed when the plane finally left the ground. Before long, the cargo carrier moved away from the mountains toward the heart of South America while it climbed higher into the air, and then veered sharply as it headed north.

  “Since it will be a while before we reach our destination, perhaps you two should catch up on your sleep,” Francisco advised over his shoulder. “It takes much more than just one night to make up for the amount of rest you have lost over the past week.”

  “I think I’ll do just that,” said Jeremy, determined to ignore the plane’s noisy hum, removing his seatbelt and adjusting his seat to get more comfortable. Francisco pulled out a pillow for him from above the seat and offered one to Jack as well.

  “Thanks. I may get some sleep a little later,” Jack told him, and placed the pillow on his lap.

  “Perhaps you would like something to read,” suggested Rafael, turning toward Jack to give him a smile. “As long as you are not asking to see pictures of naked girls and boys, we have lots of magazines to choose from.” He laughed impishly.

  “Nah, that won’t be necessary,” Jack replied. “I could use some time to think about everything that’s happened lately, and see if I can make more sense of it all.”

  “All right, Señor Kenney,” said Rafael. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “Sure, I’ll do that.”

  The truth be known, he was dying for sleep. Sleep that was deep, restful, and without any disturbing dreams. As he watched Jeremy, already fast asleep, his own eyelids grew heavy. It soon became apparent he would lose his battle to stay awake, despite the carrier’s annoy
ing drone. As he nodded off, holding the pillow in his lap, he hoped his postponed meeting with Dr. Mensch wasn’t as unpleasant as he feared it would be. Perhaps he would finally have the courage to warn Oscar about Genovene, and the professor would heed his admonition to get the hell away from her before too late.

  Part VI

  Deshawn Wheatley

  By the time Deshawn reached Pepper’s Gym on Hyacinth Street, it was almost 9:00 a.m. Stunned by the morning’s events, he worried whether he should contact the police about what happened to his best friend, Jeremy, and his brother, Jack. Then again, since the Kenney brothers were the hottest act on TV and radio these days, maybe the local authorities would be just as happy to see them gone from Tuscaloosa, Alabama.

  Pepper’s Gym was originally built as an industrial warehouse in the 1930s. Abandoned in the early 1970s, a former tri-athlete champion named Jauron Pepper turned the empty building into the gym that stood here today. Deshawn had worked at Pepper’s Gym for the past six years on a part-time basis. Since he no longer modeled, it provided the extra spending money to go along with his fellowship grant he received as a grad student.

  He slowly shuffled his way toward the gym, absently twirling and then catching his lucky basketball as he climbed the cracked concrete steps on up to the building’s main entrance. With the loaded duffel bag draped across his back, he entered the gym and walked up to the front desk attendant.

  “Good morning, Deshawn!”

  “What up, Pete?”

  Deshawn sat the heavy duffel bag down near the desk to give his aching back and shoulders a rest.

  “I’m all right, I guess,” Pete replied.