by J. M. LeDuc
“Everything will be fine,” Sonia consoled. “I promise.”
At 8:15, Zach announced it was time to leave. He handed Charlotte her coat and said, “I’m afraid I have to blindfold you. It’s for your safety.”
Fear registered in Charlotte’s eyes. She turned to Sonia. “Please, no, you don’t know what that does to me.”
Her hands started to shake and large tears streamed down her cheeks.
Charlotte’s dramatic reaction to Zach’s announcement filled Sonia with emotion.
She removed a tissue from a box on the counter and dabbed Charlotte’s eyes. “Sweetie, look at me.”
Charlotte hung her head, shaking it slowly side to side. Additional tears replaced the ones Sonia had wiped away. Sonia clasped Charlotte’s hands in her own. She felt intense trembling run through her entire body.
“Charlotte,” she began, in a stern voice, much like a mother addressing her daughter, “I will stay with you the entire way.”
Zach shook his head. “You know that’s not possible.”
“Look at her,” Sonia said. “Make it possible. Call Q. He has the ability to contact the Ambassador. Let him know I will be escorting Charlotte all the way to the drop off.”
“You’d do that for me?” Charlotte said, wiping away her tears.
Sonia looked at her with tenderness. “I would, and I will.”
Charlotte threw her arms around Sonia in a burst of emotion. It was the first positive emotion, other than fear, she’d shown since her ordeal with the Butcher.
Within minutes, Zach returned. “It’s a go, but you both will have to be blind-folded before we make contact with Q and you’ll have to remain that way until the transfer is made. Sonia, you’ll need to stay ‘in the dark’, until we return to the airstrip.”
They both nodded their agreement. Charlotte thanked them both.
“Don’t thank us,” Zach said. “Thank the Ambassador. He said to do whatever it takes. He wants you to be as comfortable as possible without risking your safety. The Ambassador also apologized for the blindfold. He said he didn’t want to dredge up the past, but it was the only way to keep you safe.”
Zach blindfolded Charlotte before he opened the secret door to the underground passage that led from the house to the airfield.
Charlotte smelled the mustiness of the earth. As she made her way along the tunnel, her mind wandered, who is this Ambassador and why does he care about how I feel. Does he know about my past? Those thoughts led her to think about God, and briefly, she questioned her belief in Him. It didn’t last long; she came to the same conclusion she always did, No God would have allowed what happened to me and the other girls to take place.
Three-and-a-half hours later, the blindfolded girls felt the engines’ vibrations as the jet came to a standstill. Q left the cockpit to tell Charlotte that it was time for her to depart the aircraft. The girls groped until they found one another. They hugged and kissed goodbye.
“Your life is about to change forever,” Sonia said with excitement. “You are minutes away from entering the inner circle of the Endowment.”
“I wish you were coming with me. I’m scared.”
“Trust, Charlotte. Trust yourself, trust the Ambassador, but most important, trust God.”
CHAPTER 19
At 8:00 p.m., Jonas watched Charlotte exit her townhouse from a neighbor’s house across the development. She was escorted by three Secret Service agents.
Watching her from a distance, after all these years, his heart raced. A new level of rage seared within. He’d been watching ever since he arrived and the surveillance finally paid off.
During his scouting of the property, he discovered six uniformed agents by their black suits and ties, guarding the perimeter. He assumed they stood their posts on a regular basis since the neighbors didn’t even flinch as they drove by or walked their dogs.
He also observed nine plainclothes agents stationed throughout the neighborhood dressed as gardeners, appliance repairmen, cable installers, and Jonas’ favorite, an ice cream truck driver.
As Jonas ate the last bite of his strawberry éclair, he mentally and physically prepared himself for the snatch-and-grab he dreamed about for the last seven years.
“Thanks for the hospitality,” he said, as he eyed the two naked bodies positioned on the living room floor. He gazed down at Dan and Luanne Spelnic and admired his handiwork. He turned from his latest victims and opened the front door.
Following his plan, he ran from the dwelling, screaming hysterically at the top of his lungs. The only illumination came from streetlights. He wanted to be seen and made sure to run where the spotlight hit the road. He ran in front of an oncoming black Lincoln Towne Car that had backed out of Charlotte’s driveway. When the grille of the car’s front bumper grazed him, he exaggerated the blow by throwing himself onto the hood and rolled onto the pavement.
As he hit the asphalt, he heard brakes screech, bringing the car to a complete stop.
All three agents exited the vehicle to check the injured pedestrian. As they approached, he rolled onto his knees, high on adrenaline and continued to scream. He worked himself into such hysteria the agents had a hard time understanding what he was saying. After minutes of babbling and pointing, they finally understood that two people were dead and their bodies were in the townhome across the street. The ice cream man and the gardeners dashed to the townhouse. They radioed the agents by the car to come and check out the situation.
When the lead agent saw the markings on the bodies and how they were positioned, he called his superior, who immediately called off the assignment. The lead agent called the decoy sitting in the car, informing her they were compromised and the assignment was scrapped. Upon hearing the information, she stepped from the limo. Jonas’ eyes locked onto Charlotte Dupree. It took a moment to register, but when he realized that she was an imposter, he lost all control. The realization threw him into hurricane-strength rage. He threw himself onto the pavement, pounding his fists on the ground. His screams sounded demented.
The female agent who witnessed Jonas’ previous rage took it as grief for his dead loved ones.
“What should we do?” she asked a plain-clothed agent.
“I’m not going near him. They warned us about people in this sort of hysteria, biting those who tried to help them.”
They heard sirens of an approaching ambulance. “I’ll wait for the paramedics,” he said, “and meet you inside. Go see if you can be of any assistance.”
Inside the townhome, the agents took pictures of the scene and forwarded them to the Director of the Secret Service. He, in turn, forwarded them to the Pentagon.
After the lead agent spoke with the director, he said, “We’ve been told to lock down the area and wait for replacements.”
“Who’s replacing us, the feds?”
“I guess you could say that. A bunch of spooks are on their way.”
The agents all looked at one another, then at their superior. “Spooks—what do you mean?”
“SIA.”
Silence blanketed the room. An agent remarked, “SIA. I thought they were just a legend. You know, like they didn’t really exist.”
“Yeah, well, I guess you…we were wrong. Like I said, lock down the home and the perimeter and wait for them to arrive. The bastard was here. Right here, under our noses, and we never even saw him.” Pointing to the mutilated couple, he added, “That could have been any one of us. Be happy the SIA does exist. This is what they’re trained for, not us.”
Upon receiving the picture, the head of the Secret Service immediately relayed them to SIA headquarters. Maddie ordered four operatives, stationed in D.C., to take charge of the case and secure the bodies for transfer to headquarters. No mention of the killings would be released to either the media or next of kin.
Outside, Jonas was sedated by paramedi
cs and strapped to a gurney in the back of the ambulance. Word came from inside the house that paramedics were needed to verify the victims’ time of death.
“Leave this one. We’ll finish when we get back.”
Jonas opened his eyes as soon as the paramedics were out of sight.
Do they really think a little tranquilizer can stop The Dark One?
He quickly removed the restraints and jumped out of the ambulance. He took one last look around the neighborhood, verifying all agents were gone and escaped the development. Jonas found his way to a nearby shopping plaza where he secured a vehicle and drove off to plot his next step.
His rage grew as he thought back over the night’s missteps. As anger weighed down on his mind his foot weighed down on the gas pedal. He headed out of the city, into a heavily-wooded area in rural Virginia. His erratic driving caused him to miss a tight left turn. The car careened into the woods and crashed into a large pine tree. The force of the collision deployed the airbags, causing chemical burns to his forearms and face.
The next thing he knew, he was sitting on a large rock by a stream.
I have lost all patience with you, The Dark One said. There are others, many others, who would gladly take your place.
No! I mean, please, father, don’t replace me. I’m sorry I have let you down again. Please don’t release me from my duty. My only reason for living is to please you.
Because of your brilliance, The Dark One said, I have let you do things your way.
No more. Now, we do things my way.
Jonas bowed his head in shame. Yes, father.
You are very intelligent, my son, and you have all of the qualities necessary to become the one who can defeat the Enlightened One. But your emotions get in your way.
Sorry, father.
You are to stay here, in the woods, until I tell you otherwise. You are not strong enough to stand against the Enlightened One. Stay here and gather souls to build up your strength.
Where will these souls come from? Jonas asked.
Like all things, they will come from me. I will bring the Christ-followers to you.
You are only to do as I say. Together, we will draw this Enlightened One out of hiding.
Jonas dropped to his knees, bowed his head in honor and gave thanks to his father.
CHAPTER 20
At 10:00 that evening, the team gathered in SIA’s conference room. Last to enter, Joan placed the phone in the middle of the table.
“Cardinal Bullini is eager to speak to the Ambassador,” she said.
Brent had spoken to many leaders of the free world but, for the first time, he was visibly nervous. He took a deep breath and depressed the speaker button on the phone.
“Cardinal Bullini,” he said, in Italian. “This is the Ambassador speaking. I apologize for getting you out of bed at such an inhospitable hour. Your graciousness is overwhelming and we are honored and humbled by your kindness.”
The sound of Brent’s voice caused a stirring deep within the Cardinal’s soul. This truly is a blessed man. He said a silent prayer and kissed the crucifix hanging from his neck.
“The honor is mine, Ambassador,” the cardinal. “I understand you have others with you at the moment. So that we’re not disrespectful, let us continue in English.”
“Thank you, Cardinal.”
“You are most welcome. Please, call me by my given name, Amadeus.”
Because he was part of the inner circle of the Endowment, Cardinal Bullini knew Brent’s identity, therefore, Brent could use his name without endangering the Cardinal.
“Thank you, and sir, please call me Brent.”
“Before we begin, let me pass on the blessing from the Pontiff. He hopes to be able to meet you in person one day. He extends an open invitation to come stay at the Vatican whenever you’d like.”
“Truly an honor I do not deserve. Please thank his Eminence for me and my team. Let him know that, when our business is complete, we would like that very much.”
“I will do so. Now, how may I be of assistance?”
Brent explained the circumstances of the past few days, and ended by telling the Cardinal about the audio they heard but were unable to interpret. “It is my understanding,” Brent said, “that if anyone could help us with this language, that person would be you, Amadeus, the world’s renowned expert on ancient letters.”
“That is a title I begrudgingly and humbly accept. Any talent I have in deciphering languages comes as a gift from God. Would you play me the message?”
After a slight pause, Chloe spoke. “Cardinal Bullini, this is Chloe Venturi, Brent’s wife.”
“It is a pleasure to hear your voice, Senora.”
“The honor is mine, Cardinal, all of ours, in fact. Sir, if I may, the words spoken become demonic in tone. We do not wish to alarm you or the Pontiff, so I have broken them down phonetically and will gladly read them to you, if you wish.”
“Senora, I appreciate your concern for an old priest, but I must hear the original accent so that I may be able to place the dialect. Before you play the recording, may I inquire how far you have come in finding the origin of the language?”
“Cardinal, this is Maddie, Maddie Smith. Chloe and I surmised that some words appear to be of Greek origin, while some could be Aramaic.”
“Excellent. If you ladies are correct, then it points to a time just before or during the time Our Lord and Savior walked the earth. Please go ahead and play the recording.”
The Cardinal closed his eyes and listened intently to the accent and pitch, both integral components of any language. The harder he concentrated and the more Jonas’ voice changed, the deeper he seemed to be dragged into some sort of hypnotic trance.
As the audio concluded, both ends of the phone were silent.
Brent broke the silence. “Cardinal Bullini? Amadeus…are you still there?”
The Cardinal’s voice came through the phone lines, weaker than it sounded earlier. “I’m sorry for my silence. You were right to have warned me, senora, although no amount of warning could have readied me for what I just heard. I need time to study the words more intently.”
“How much time do you need, Cardinal Bullini?”
“Brent, if you would, please have someone on your staff e-mail me a copy of the audio. I promise to get back to you within twenty-four hours.”
Brent looked at Joan, who said, “It’s on the way.”
“Amadeus, your help is invaluable. You’ll find what you have asked for on your computer by the time we hang up.”
“Allow an old priest a few hours of sleep and I’ll get right to it at once in the morning. Until we speak tomorrow, God bless you all. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” The team blessed themselves with the sign of the cross.
Joan leaned forward and hung up the phone.
They sat around the table, each thinking about the first time they heard the audio.
Each knowing what the Cardinal must be feeling.
Brent stood up and addressed the team. “We can’t sit here all night, there’s work to do. If we don’t hurry, there will be a frightened young lady waiting on the tarmac, all by herself. I want the squad, in full uniform, in the basement of the Inn at twelve midnight.”
At the designated hour, all squad members filed into the basement, wearing black cotton pants, long-sleeve black shirts, solid black running shoes and black Kevlar vests.
“Once inside the tunnel, conduct yourselves as though you would for any mission. Understood?”
“Yes, Colonel,” Seven nodded.
“Ditto,” Jefferson said.
“Yes, sir,” added Fitzpatrick.
“All communication will be by hand signals,” Brent ordered. “We run at a seven-minute mile pace. That should put us at the airstrip ten minutes before Q drops
her off. Any questions?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Good. Move out.”
Seven opened the air-conditioning grate and the squad entered the Endowment tunnel. Once the grate was replaced and the electrical breaker switch was flipped, a soft glow illuminated the tunnel. The Phantom Squad, in formation, ran in unison. The colonel at point, keeping pace, followed by Jefferson and Fitzpatrick. Seven brought up the rear, watching the squad’s back.
CHAPTER 21
Q led Charlotte off the aircraft. She walked into a wall of humidity and felt the evening dew on her ankles.
After five minutes of negotiating the open field terrain, Q came to a stop.
“Stand here, Miss, and don’t make a sound. The next voice you hear will be the voice of safety.”
Charlotte was about to thank him but realized he was gone. She heard the rumble of jet engines and felt the ground shake beneath her feet. Seconds later, she heard the aircraft streak down the runway and take off.
As the plane drifted into the distance, she became fearful. The feeling of dread was so overwhelming she could no longer take being blindfolded. She was about to rip it off, when a voice said, “Please don’t do that.”
It was authoritative and somewhat familiar. She searched her memory to decide whether it was a ‘good’ familiar or a ‘bad’ one. A scream rose in the back of her throat.
Before it could escape her lips, a hand covered her mouth.
“Trust, Charlotte. Please. You trusted me once before. I’m asking for your trust again.”
She nodded, and she felt the hand move away from her mouth.
“Take my hand and the hand of the person on your right.”
She did as asked. The three walked approximately fifty feet when she felt high grass lightly rub against her legs. They were walking in heavier brush.
Her guides came to a sudden halt.
“If you put your arm straight out in front of you,” Brent said, “you’ll touch a wall. Slide your hands down the wall until you feel an opening.”
