Messenger From God (The Last Eulogy Series Book 1)

by Anthony DiVerniero

  The plane arrived in Baltimore forty-five minutes later. The air traffic controller directed the plane to a taxiway. With the stairs lowered, Paolo raced out of the aircraft and jumped into the military helicopter that was waiting to take him directly to the hospital.

  The Sikorsky Blackhawk landed on the roof of the fifteen-story building. Rami was there to meet him. Paolo exited the chopper and the two men headed into the hospital.

  “How’s my son?”

  “Unbelievable—outside of the bruises and the damage to his shoulder, he’ll be fine. The doctors expect a full recovery.”

  “What about his face?”

  “Two small fractures in his cheekbones. He’s definitely going to be sore when he wakes up. When they took him out of the building, he kept saying ‘Where’s my dad? My dad is in there.’”

  “I was standing by his side—I guess he could feel my presence.”

  “Amazing,” Rami said in disbelief. “I have a secure room where we can talk until he comes out of recovery.”

  “Good. I apologize for getting angry at you.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I completely understand.”

  They walked down a hallway guarded by men holding M16 rifles. A sergeant stood at attention as they came to a door. The door opened. Inside was the president of the United States.

  The president stood and walked over to Paolo. “It’s so good to see you again, my old friend.”

  “Mr. President,” Paolo said as he looked at Rami.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your son. Rami told me he’ll make a full recovery.”

  “That’s my understanding, Mr. President. So, gentlemen, tell me what’s going on?”

  “Rami.”

  “Yes, Mr. President?”

  “Fill him in.”

  “Yes, sir. Your son was able to signal us when he was ambushed. We had a pretty good idea of where he was. Within two hours, we found him and mobilized BOET. That’s when you called, you know the rest. After we rescued Giacomo, I informed the president of our investigation, and the information you provided. He commanded the Secret Service to arrest Payne.”

  Paolo sat back, relieved. “Excellent. I can’t wait to see that son of a bitch hang.”

  The president and Rami looked at each other.

  “I’m sorry, Paolo…we believe Payne is no longer in the country, and we need your help to find him.”

  “Find him, Mr. President?”

  “Yes, Rami filled me in about your paranormal abilities. What I didn’t know was that it was you. Payne kept that from me. From what the general tells me, there is a strong possibility that he arranged the purchase of two nuclear weapons—one to be detonated here in the States, and the other in Russia. Go ahead, Rami.”

  “We were able to put some pieces together and they all revolve around you. We have no idea why, but they do. Okay, where do I begin? Let’s start in France and your accidental viewing of Duman, Abir, and Arnaud Chambery. Then the views of the Cubans. Now add the Chechnyans. What is the one common denominator?”

  “Outside of me, the nuclear bombs.”

  “Right. We now believe that your paranormal ability will save millions of lives. When the general and I discussed your abilities—we both thought we were crazy. Paolo, neither of us is religious, but for some reason we believe you are the key to save mankind from killing itself.”

  “Whoa, gentlemen. You’re starting to freak me out, as our friend Bill used to say. I’m not here to save anybody. I don’t even know where the gift comes from. So please don’t put me on a pedestal or any other place of honor. I’m just a simple man.”

  “Well, you might consider yourself a simple man. Frankly, Paolo, we need your help.”

  “Mr. President, I’ll do what I can.” Paolo didn’t tell them of his vision of the city at peace and not destroyed—the outcome could be changed.

  “That’s all we can ask for. I’m sure you would like to see your son. Keep in contact with Rami. I’ve commanded the Secret Service to put a detail on you for your protection.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Mr. President.”

  “Paolo, you won’t notice them, they will work in conjunction with Rami and BOET. You’ll still have your own autonomy.”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  The president walked over to Paolo and hugged him. “Godspeed, my friend.”

  Paolo walked into the stark hospital room. The battered face of his son made him nauseated and he turned away. The memory of Giacomo as a child came to mind, the dreams of the young boy wanting to be a warrior, the protector of the people. Sooner than later, his son’s dreams would come to fruition. It seemed just a few years ago when he and Giacomo walked along Chapel Street while his son played the role of an Army soldier. He stood in front of his father, “Sir, requesting permission to scout ahead for enemy insurgents?”

  “By all means, Sergeant. Carry on.”

  The young boy saluted his father. “Yes, sir.”

  Giacomo ran ahead of his father, stopping at street corners to peer around the block, hiding behind a stop sign. He’d yell at his father, “Sir, all clear.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  A tear fell from Paolo’s eye. He knew in the years to come his son would witness horrific events. The days of innocence had been whisked away by time; the years disappeared in a heartbeat.

  “Come on, I don’t look that bad, old man.” Giacomo’s voice was strained.

  Paolo couldn’t speak. His throat tightened up, his eyes welled. He whispered, “No, you don’t look that bad.” He walked over to his son’s bed.

  “You wanna sign my cast?” Giacomo tried to sound lighthearted as he nodded toward the cast on his left shoulder and arm.

  Paolo kissed him on his forehead. “Rest, my son, rest.”

  “Thanks for being there, Dad. The sound of your voice kept me alive.” Giacomo fell asleep.

  CHAPTER 50

  “HI.”

  “How is Giacomo?”

  “He’s doing great.” Paolo paused, “Syd, I’m really sorry about the other day. I was so wrong in taking my anger out on you. Please forgive me.”

  “I’m trying to understand, Paolo, but you have so many secrets. I just don’t know.”

  “I understand. I’ll be home in two days. Why don’t we get together and talk?”

  “Give me a call when you get back. Tell Giacomo I said hi.”

  “Will do. I’ll talk with you in a couple of days. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Paolo arrived in Connecticut the following Tuesday. Victoria and Rio were with Giacomo, who was up and walking around. The doctors said he would make a full recovery in nine months.

  The casually dressed Paolo walked through the lobby to the elevators, briefcase in hand. He thought of Sydney and a smile crossed his face. The doors swung open with a swish. The wall bore the ancient crest of the village of Ottati and the words Ottati Consulting Ltd., in large gold letters. The video cameras recorded Paolo as he turned left toward the frosted-glass double doors. He slid his ID card in the reader and tapped his code in the security pad, and the doors automatically opened.

  As Paolo walked into the reception area, he was greeted by his receptionist and his chief of security, who sat behind a twenty-foot half-moon console with a bank of monitors and telecom equipment. A camera strategically placed in the hallway snapped pictures of every person exiting the elevator; by the time they arrived at the glass doors, facial recognition software had confirmed their identity. The entrance was actually an x-ray portal that scanned everyone who entered the office. The body scan wasn’t for weapons but for recording devices that could violate client confidentiality.

  The high-tech system became operational a month after Bill’s assassination and the revelation that Payne had tried to infiltrate Ottati Consulting. On the other side of the wall was another card reader and a security pad that controlled who was allowed out of the office.

  Paolo’s Chief of Security, Anthony Wint
ers, stood and acknowledged his boss.

  “Good afternoon, Paolo.”

  “How are you, Anthony? Have our friends arrived yet?”

  “Yes, sir. Two Secret Service agents were here earlier. I provided them with live feeds to our monitors as you requested. How is your son?”

  “He’s doing great, thanks. Hello, Maryann. How are you today?”

  “Great, Paolo. I’m sorry to hear about your son.”

  “Thank you, Maryann. You must be looking forward to your vacation. If I remember correctly, you are going to St. Maarten?”

  “Yes. I can’t wait.”

  “Well, have a great time. I hope you both have a good day.”

  “You too, Paolo,” they said in unison.

  Paolo walked down the carpeted hallway past the client center boardroom and took a right, passing through the next security door. He turned the doorknob and entered the realm of Ottati Consulting.

  He stood before Rebecca. “Good morning, any messages?”

  “Sydney Hill. She said she tried you on your cell phone, but it went right to voice mail. How’s the major?”

  “Unbelievable, Bec, he’s doing great. Thanks.”

  “Don’t forget Sydney called.”

  Paolo scanned his security card and opened the frosted glass door to his office. The cherry wood desk and matching bookcases sat on the plush green carpet. He looked out the fourteenth-story windows at the intersection of Church and Elm, busy with early afternoon traffic, then sat behind his desk.

  How am I going to find Payne? What do I tell Sydney? Maybe I shouldn’t play with the fates, let whatever happens happen. Why, God, are you taking a back seat?

  Paolo took out his pen and wrote. The earth’s inhabitants are beginning the last act, the final eulogy of mankind. We can’t live in peace—our ideologies so vast and so different, man killing man on behalf of a God who so loved his people. The incongruities between man and God grew pride and greed in the west and God’s avengers in the east. Will it ever end or is it just the circle of life with no knowledge gained from history? Whether we believe it or not, there is a war, a war unseen to mankind…a war to be played out on the lands of the earth, a war so evil, bent on the destruction of humanity. And the kicker is we can’t do shit about it.

  Paolo placed the pen down and massaged his face. He reached for the intercom.

  “Rebecca, remember the trip to Colorado Springs I wanted to take?”

  “Yes.”

  “Make reservations for Sydney and me for a month from today.”

  “Okay, will do. Don’t forget to call her.”

  “I won’t.”

  He dialed and spoke. “Hello, Sydney Hill. I hear you’ve been trying to reach me.”

  “Yes, where are you?”

  “In my office. Apparently my cell phone isn’t working. Sorry.”

  “Oh, okay. I thought about what you said, and maybe I’m a little paranoid about secrets.

  I’m sorry and I’ll try to understand. I know it must be difficult for you and maybe one day you’ll feel comfortable enough to tell me. How about dinner tonight? Say, six o’clock, my house?”

  “I’ll be there. Thanks, Sydney.”

  Paolo hung up the phone, his heart filled with joy.

  CHAPTER 51

  THROUGHOUT THE NEXT month, whenever the opportunity presented itself, Sydney and Paolo made passionate love. Afterward, they would laugh, talk, and share dreams. When together, they were one. There was a wholeness about them.

  “I can’t believe, at our ages—you’re almost forty-seven, and me…well, we don’t have to go there—we can still have sex the way we do,” Sydney said, her arm on his chest.

  “Tell me about it. Two times in one day and no Viagra…whew, baby, you’re hot.”

  “Viagra? Do you take those pills?”

  “No, I was just saying, two times, damn…I’m not thirty years old.”

  “I know.” Sydney rolled her eyes and grabbed the small, spare tire of a belly.

  “Oh, aren’t we funny.” Paolo rolled on his side and propped his head on his left hand. He kissed her warm lips. “Should we try for the hat trick?”

  “Hat trick? What’s that?”

  “Three times,” Paolo raised his eyebrows.

  Sydney made no response, just kissed him passionately.

  Paolo and Sydney enjoyed making love. They had a mutual respect for one another. Their inhibitions gone, they became one.

  Paolo took pleasure in telling Sydney he loved her, but for whatever reason, she couldn’t say the words in return. This troubled Paolo deeply. He so desperately needed to hear those three little words from her.

  Paolo tried numerous times to remote view the Cubans, Payne, and Abir, with no luck. His ability to view was stymied by his love for Sydney. A month later, Paolo and Sydney left for a long weekend in Colorado Springs. Both were excited about the prospect of being alone together.

  Originally built in the early 1900s, the Broadmoor Hotel sat at the base of Pikes Peak. The facility had been updated over the years into a first-class resort. The hotel’s nostalgic, romantic mood charmed all who stayed there.

  Their suite overlooked the property with the mountains above and behind them and the city of Colorado Springs in the distance. The view was spectacular as the moon rose above the city. Exhausted from their travels, Sydney took a shower and got ready for bed. She gave Paolo a long kiss.

  “Don’t take too long—I might be asleep when you get to bed.”

  “I won’t.”

  After his shower, towel wrapped around his body, Paolo walked into the bedroom. Sydney lay sound asleep. His body still warm from the shower, Paolo slid between the cotton sheets. He snuggled up to her and whispered in her ear, “I love you.” He gently kissed her cheek. He saw her smile.

  The smell of spring permeated the mountain air. The peaks were covered in snow, the vibrant green grass with its morning dew sparkled in the bright morning sun. The hotel courtyard had a brick walkway, which surrounded a man-made lake with park benches for the guests to sit and enjoy the fresh air. Mallard ducks waddled in the lake during the day. At night, the water glistened with the orange glow of the lighted lampposts.

  Paolo tried to make their time together as romantic as possible. He quietly sneaked away, so he could plan little surprises for her. Sydney loved yellow roses, Paolo arranged for the florists at the hotel to deliver a dozen roses to her. To his disappointment, all they had were long-stemmed red roses—like the passion of his love for her.

  The doorbell rang. “Sydney, can you answer that? I’m in the bathroom.”

  “Sure…who could it be? Did you order room service?”

  “No.”

  Sydney opened the door. Before her stood the hotel bellman. He held a crystal vase with a dozen long-stemmed red roses and one yellow rose in the middle.

  “Sydney Hill?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “These are for you,” the bellman announced, extending his arms.

  Sydney took the bouquet and smelled the roses. A tear came to her eye. Paolo had come out of the bedroom suite. He stood behind her and handed the man a ten-dollar bill.

  “The roses are beautiful, Paolo, thank you.” Sydney kissed him.

  “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” Paolo was surprised to see a yellow rose amid the red. The florist said they had no yellow roses. I’ll write him a thank-you note. When the florist received the note several days later, he was surprised as well, for he didn’t inventory yellow roses.

  Sydney’s eyes lit up when she saw the flowers, yet Paolo sensed a tentativeness to her joy. She placed the vase on the coffee table.

  “Paolo, thank you so much! What a pleasant surprise. And look at this yellow rose! It is beautiful.” She went over to Paolo and gave him a hug and a kiss. “They are so beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like them. They are quite beautiful, I must say. For your second surprise, I arranged for us to have our own private massage at the spa.�
��

  “Together?”

  “Not in the same room. If you want, you can also have a facial.”

  “Excellent, when do we need to be there?”

  “In twenty minutes.”

  “Let’s take a walk around the lake. That will bring us to the spa, and we can check out the restaurant. I heard someone in the lobby say the food was first-rate.”

  “Good idea, I can use the exercise,” Paolo touched his stomach.

  “Well, don’t get too exhausted…you know you have to perform tonight.”

  “Oh really? Well, what if I want to go to sleep?” he quipped.

  “I think I can change your mind.”

  Paolo and Sydney walked out into the main courtyard holding hands. Wherever they went, people openly stared at them. The two were a hard couple to miss. They strolled around the grounds of the resort, sat on a park bench, and kissed. Theirs was not the type of kiss teenagers do when their hormones rage wild. No, this was a kiss of love, a love between a man and a woman—a love envied by all who witnessed it.

  They stood and continued their walk. They came to a group of evergreen trees. A deer and her fawn nipped at the ground. The fawn walked to Paolo; the mother lifted her head, looked at the two strangers, and continued eating. “Will you look at that? I wish I had some food to feed her.” Paolo reached forward and petted the animal. He was awed at the sight. He reached for Sydney’s hand. “Come on, or we’ll be late for our massage.”

  “Paolo, I can’t believe the deer didn’t run away. And you touched it, wow.”

  “Yeah, bizarre.”

  As they left, another couple came over to see the deer, but the animals trotted away.

  Relaxed after their massages, Paolo and Sydney sat in a large waiting area.

  “Miss Hill?” A young woman stood in the doorway.

  “Yes?”

  “Whenever you’re ready for your facial, I will be in room three, down the hall to your right.”