Stasia’s cynicism toward her own future and that of the world was a great weight that pushed down upon Gabriel. He couldn’t understand how a life so rich in experience, both good and bad, could be so easily dismissed by those living it.
“It has been said that it is often darkest before the light, Stasia. You are playing a part, a very important part, in keeping the light safe so that the future can be found by those who might later inherit it. You, Frank Bennington, and those fighting with you, are all connected by this experience. It is no mere accident you have all come together at this time, but rather by that inexplicable happenstance known as fate.”
The pain in Stasia’s mouth and jaw was returning two-fold, and Gabriel’s touchy-feely commentary wasn’t helping.
“Frank and I were introduced by the T3 Group, namely by Alexander David Meyer, not fate. And now I’m sitting in this cell with you with my face busted up while Frank is somewhere out there probably wondering what the hell can be done about it. Guardian Nagato is dead, this August Hess asshole seems more than happy to kill everyone and everything that gets in his way, and I don’t hear the cavalry coming to save us, Gabriel. So if you want to call that fate, then with all due respect, fate can kiss my ass.”
Gabriel stood back up and wrapped each of his hands around one of the cell door bars as he looked down the dimly lit hallway.
“Nearly everything Alexander Meyer has done is with purpose, Stasia including putting both you and Frank Bennington together. I have been observing the billionaire his entire life, knowing he would be the one to salvage what remained of the American promise.”
Gabriel whirled around, a smile dissecting the pale flesh of his face as his hands spread out before him.
“America! God shed His grace on thee. It’s true you know. It was the American promise that brought Alexander Meyer here, and I followed. He works to save what so many have already forgotten, and you are helping to provide him the necessary time to do so. The events of today both in and outside this church are but the beginnings of a very long and difficult battle, Stasia Wellington. The resistance that you begin here will be taken up by others. What you know now as the Illuminati, are already being absorbed by something far greater, more powerful, and many times more destructive. The age of the Illuminati and its covert conflict with your T3 Group quickly approaches its inevitable conclusion. In its place marches the drumbeat of absolute tyranny. We are witnesses to the new age, the end of the beginning…and its terrible intent.”
Stasia opened her mouth to speak but abruptly shut it when she heard the sound of Sympathy for the Devil being cheerfully whistled from somewhere down the hall, the source of which steadily grew closer.
Malthus was coming.
31.
“Need I remind you that you are under my authority, Mr. Hess?”
The skin of the Pindar’s face appeared to barely stretch over the jutting bones of his cheeks and chin as he bellowed down from his throne while pointing an accusatory finger toward a smugly smiling August Hess.
“If you truly believe that, Pindar Zavala, I’m afraid you’re living under delusions of grandeur. I answer to the House of Saud, not the Illuminati. We grow tired of your pathetic games and rituals. While you waste time and energy killing off some wretched twenty something celebrities, we are taking over the world! I’ve come here for the man known as Frank Bennington. That is my only reason for being here. I thought taking Stasia Wellington would deliver Bennington, but it appears that hasn’t happened. Perhaps Bennington’s loyalties to her were overestimated. At any rate, I don’t have any interest in watching you perform some sacrifice to a devil I don’t believe in. Your ceremonies are as much rubbish as you are, Pindar. Do what you wish with the woman, but I won’t remain here to watch you play your Illuminati games.”
Zavala’s eyes widened to the point they appeared ready to explode from his thin, emaciated skull as his lips pulled back from his teeth in an outraged snarl.
“How dare you! I am the New York Pindar! Look around this place! We see everything! We are everywhere! At this moment we continue to push the EBOLA agenda, inciting fear and unrest throughout the world! The Illuminati has this power! We destabilize nations, and then sell them the weapons they then use to kill one another! I have made great towers into rubble! ME! Who are you to show such disrespect to the Illuminati in my house! You’re nothing more than an errand boy for the sand rats who sent you!”
Hess’s smug smile remained, though his eyes flashed a warning at the Pindar’s use of the term sand rats. Hess raised his right hand with each of his fingers spread out from the other.
“Look at my hand, Pindar. Your beloved Illuminati are but a portion of the smallest finger you see before you. Those I represent are the entirety of that hand. You exist because they allow it. You are an appendage, and nothing more. The fact you don’t know this yet speaks directly to the power they have over you, that knowledge will reveal itself soon enough. Until then, I bid you farewell. Enjoy your human sacrifice to a Satan that does not exist. In this world Pindar, I am the devil.”
Zavala watched August Hess’s departure with rage that threatened to overtake him entirely. The Pindar considered ordering Hess killed rather than allowing him back outside the church, but fears of upsetting the Saudis was enough, though barely, to make Zavala reconsider that option. Instead the Pindar looked around the Illuminati operations center and its many screens depicting people and events around the world and allowed himself a thin smile. Malthus was likely already on his way back up from the church cellar with Stasia Wellington in tow. It had been too long since he had overseen a human sacrifice, too long since he had experienced the warm, comforting sensation of human blood washing over his hands.
The Pindar’s face widened into a full smile, August Hess’s insolence nearly forgotten.
“Prepare the altar!”
As Zavala issued his order, Frank, Teague, and Alberto Diaz remained on the roof of the T3 clubhouse looking down at the entrance to the Illuminati church.
Teague looked up after a droplet of rain fell on his rather prominent nose.
“Rain is coming.”
All three men looked up as well, confirming for themselves Teague’s weather report. Frank then paused, his eyes capturing a faint, slow moving dark metallic flash in the sky no more than a few hundred yards from their rooftop location.
“What the hell is that?”
Teague strained to see but his vision was not quite strong enough to make out what Bennington was referring to, though Alberto saw it almost immediately.
“Damn, that’s a UAV, a military-grade surveillance drone. What the hell is it doing here?”
Diaz’s question was answered by the sound of approaching vehicles upon the empty street below them. Both the vehicles and the drone were approaching from the east. Bennington pointed at the first vehicle as it came into view.
“There, big black SUV. Looks like two others right behind it. You call for backup, Alberto?”
The former Army Ranger shook his head.
“No, we’re on our own up here.”
The drone appeared to be leading the way for the three SUVs below.
“There’s someone coming out of the church.”
Frank and Alberto looked to where Teague was pointing. A single man emerged, a man Bennington recognized as the one who took Stasia hostage.
“That’s Hess, he was there when the guardian was killed. Shoot him, Alberto now!”
Alberto targeted the sniper rifle onto August Hess’s chest but then his sight line was interrupted by the arrival of the lead SUV. The three vehicles stopped directly in front of the Illuminati church at the same moment the drone flew just overhead.
The front SUV had two flags adorning each side of its hood. The first was the same light blue color as August Hess’s uniform and was emblazoned with the initials N.U.N. The second was green in color, with a white scimitar spread out across its lower half.
“Why are representatives
from the Saudi government here?”
Alberto’s question remained unanswered as Frank and Teague watched with him in silence as two men armed with assault rifles exited each of the three vehicles.
Frank looked up to see the drone circling back slowly toward the Illuminati church.
“Whoever they are, they have someone watching them closely.”
Bennington knew shooting on the armed men below would be suicide, and likely leave Stasia without any hope of rescue. August Hess walked to the other side of the row of SUVs and stood looking directly up at the T3 clubhouse rooftop with a phone to his ear.
Diaz repositioned his sniper rifle as he prepared to take out Hess.
“No, wait!”
Frank placed his left hand on Alberto’s shoulder as he waited for the call he knew was coming. A second later, his phone began to ring.
“I see you up there, Mr. Bennington. I just wanted to let you know you’ve been given a temporary reprieve. I have other business needing my attention, and this situation is getting all too messy for my tastes. Until next time take care, Frank. Oh – I almost forgot. Stasia remains alive for just a bit longer, but time is quickly running out for her. There are only four armed men inside the church. If you hurry, perhaps you might get lucky, so tick-tock, Mr. Bennington and goodbye…for now.”
All three men looked down and watched as August Hess gave them a brief wave and nod before he disappeared into the dark-glassed interior of the second SUV. The three vehicles then moved quickly down the street and disappeared into the New York night. Frank glanced upward and noted the surveillance drone had left the area as well.
Across from them loomed the gothic themed form of the Illuminati church. Teague issued a surprised grunt.
“Look at that, he left the front door cracked open for us!”
Both Frank and Alberto confirmed Teague was right. A yellow sliver of low light dissected the inky surroundings of the church entrance, its source coming from inside the building.
Alberto used the scope of his sniper rifle to scan the area around the church, looking for any movement or signs of a trap. Though he found none, the soldier in him warned of potential problems.
“I don’t like it – too easy.”
Teague nodded his head in agreement as his eyes glowered down at the partly open church doors.
“Makes you feel a bit like Hansel and Gretel being invited into the witch’s house, don’t it? Why would that murdering bastard Hess want us to get inside?”
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Bennington pushed his mind to look at the situation from a broader perspective. He realized it was Hess’s arrival that signaled the quickly following chaos that led to the guardian’s death, Stasia’s imprisonment, and yet further conflict if they were to save Stasia. Hess then departs under the protection of an armed guard being driven by vehicles with ties to the Saudi government, as well as the presence of a military drone.
That would mean Hess and whoever he works for wanted this conflict. They want the Illuminati and T3 Group aggressively taking each other out. No more stand off, no more subtle, covert actions, they want all out war between the two organizations.
“We are being used, but I don’t see a way out of that. Stasia is inside the church and I feel that Hess wasn’t lying when he told me she’s running out of time. We need to do something – right now.”
32.
“Can I kiss you, Stasia? Before he’s here, can I have but one final kiss from a beautiful woman?”
Stasia was on her feet, her eyes peering into the hallway gloom trying to locate Malthus’s arrival. She turned to find Gabriel’s eyes pleading for that kiss, a request she found oddly touching despite the ridiculous context and poor timing.
“Why?”
Gabriel stood above her, wanting to put her face into his hands, but uncertain if she would allow it.
“Because I now realize my time is running out, Stasia and your kiss will be my last human memory.”
Stasia’s brow furrowed as her eyes returned to nervously looking down the hallway.
“That’s a lot of pressure on a girl, Gabriel. Your last kiss? Maybe we should just focus on trying to get ourselves out of this alive.”
“I promised I wouldn’t let them hurt you anymore. Have faith, Stasia, in yourself, and in me.”
Stasia sensed Gabriel standing behind her even as Malthus’s whistling footsteps continued to make their way to her.
Oh, what the hell.
She turned to find Gabriel’s lips greeting her own as his right hand pressed against the lower portion of her back, drawing her closer to him. In that moment, the sound of Malthus’s approach abruptly vanished, and the only thing she felt was Gabriel’s embrace while the only thing she heard was her own heartbeat.
Even Stasia’s sense of passing time somehow felt to have been slowed. Hers had been a life of sometimes brutal and bloody actions. The Vatican had trained her among other things, to kill, and she had found herself to be quite capable of doing so. It was an ability that left her in moments of quiet contemplation wondering if she might have preferred a simpler life that included a husband, children and a home along with all the other entrapments that accompany a “normal” existence.
You were never meant to be normal, Stasia. You are nothing short of remarkable. Don’t ever second-guess the path you chose, for it was the path you were always meant to take.
Gabriel’s words whispered softly within her mind even as his lips continued to enjoy the company of her own. Finally Gabriel slowly withdrew his face from hers and then closed his eyes as he took a slow, deep breath and the corners of his mouth curled upward into an almost-smile.
Malthus stood unmoving just outside the cell that held both Stasia and Gabriel, his arms crossed casually over his chest as he regarded the two prisoners with a mix of curious amusement. An armed Illuminati operative stood just behind him with an assault rifle at the ready.
“You always were a rutting pig, Gabriel, shame on you for attempting to take advantage of the Illuminati’s guest.”
Stasia turned herself to face Malthus, her senses still reeling from the sensation of Gabriel’s kiss.
“I bring good tidings, Stasia! You will be free of your prison very soon. Clearly your friends have betrayed you, left you for dead, shame on them as well.”
“If you’ve come to take me somewhere, Malthus then shut up and get to it.”
Stasia took a startled step backwards as Malthus launched himself forward, pushing his face against the bars. For a brief moment it was not the face of a man Stasia saw, but rather a hideous thing of nightmare with colorless, soulless eyes, a reptilian-like snout and impossibly wide mouth from which emerged rows of sharp gnashing teeth.
A moment later and the nightmare had gone, leaving the lesser nightmare of the smiling Malthus in its place.
“I feel your uncertainty, Stasia, the great pain of your past. They have asked so much of you, so many terrible acts, each one taking a little more of your own humanity. And for all that, what have you been given but their betrayal at this time of greatest need. Where are your heroes, Stasia? Why do they cower in safety while you face imminent danger? How sad that they care so little for you, how…tragic.”
Stasia’s eyes grew more unfocused with every word Malthus spoke. The cadence of his speech was like a warm, comfortable blanket wrapping itself around those emotional parts of her left open to attack.
He’s right. I’ve been left here alone to die. I’ve given almost everything of myself, and for what? They obviously don’t care whether I live or die. Alexander Meyer ran away. Frank is saving his own skin. I have no-one. I’m alone. I’ve always been alone.
“You have me, Stasia. We are not so different, you and I. Let me ease your pain. Let me free you from this terrible burden. All you need do is come with me.”
The offer echoed several times in Stasia’s head.
All you need do is come with me…
Stasia smile
d, her eyes vacant, her mind having retreated into some distant place where nothing mattered anymore.
Yes, go with him. I’m ready. I want all of this to finally be over.
The cell door opened and Stasia walked through it. Malthus took his right hand and wrapped it softly around her own. Some small part of her was repulsed by the parchment-cold quality of his skin, but that revulsion was pushed aside by Malthus’s cooing whisper.
“Very good, Stasia, you are finally following your own heart! Soon the pain you have carried inside of you will be no more.”
Private Detective: BENNINGTON P.I.: A thrilling four-novel political murder mystery private detective series... Page 71
