Private Detective: BENNINGTON P.I.: A thrilling four-novel political murder mystery private detective series...

by D. W. Ulsterman

  A great flame formed around Malthus’s body, a bluish white furnace from which all evidence of the demon was quickly consumed. Not even remnants of ash remained.

  Gabriel turned around slowly and made his way to the still bound Stasia. He released her from the altar and smiled down upon her, though remained silent. The angel then lifted her up and carried her in his arms as if she weighed no more than a thought.

  Stasia’s lack of clothing brought her no shame. The T3 operative’s head rested against Gabriel’s chest, her body giving itself over entirely to the sense of safety and well being the angel’s presence provided her.

  When Gabriel began to gently place her onto the floor, her hands clung fiercely to his arms, not wanting to be free of them.

  “I MUST GO NOW, STASIA. THIS IS NOT MY PLACE OR MY TIME.”

  The power of the angel’s voice vibrated through Stasia’s body, an experience that brought both awe and pleasure.

  “Where will you go, Gabriel?”

  The fingers of the angel’s right hand carefully moved a strand of hair from Stasia’s face. He then looked upward while letting out a great sigh.

  “FOR THE FIRST TIME IN A VERY LONG TIME, I RETURN HOME.”

  Stasia blinked once, and then again, thinking her eyes were failing her. Gabriel was there, and then he wasn’t. Her eyes rose toward the ceiling, watching as something fluttered back down to her. She reached out her right hand with the palm up to catch it.

  It was a single, brilliant white feather.

  “Everybody down!”

  The command came from the church exit behind where Stasia stood. She turned to see an armed man in a wheelchair pointing a sniper rifle from one end of the near empty church to the other, clearly prepared to shoot any who posed a threat.

  “Stasia! Stasia! Stasia! I absolutely adore the new look!”

  Teague’s grin revealed itself as he stepped out from behind the man in the wheelchair.

  “Have I come over dressed, darling?”

  Alberto Diaz looked up at Teague and then glanced back at Stasia, confused as to why she was standing in the center of the church without any clothes, and why Teague appeared to be neither shocked nor concerned about it.

  Then Stasia saw Frank and knew instantly something was wrong, even as Bennington’s eyes indicated his own great relief that she remained alive and seemingly well.

  Thank God she’s ok.

  Frank’s joy in finding Stasia was soon replaced by the overwhelming and incapacitating pain in his chest. He collapsed onto the floor of the Illuminati church and then rolled onto his back, his mouth hanging open as his lungs fought a desperate battle to continue breathing.

  Stasia’s ok. I can go now. I can go…

  Bennington heard Stasia’s shouts, but they sounded muffled and distant as if he was somehow underwater. He also felt Teague’s rough fingered hands holding his face as the musician tried to determine if Frank was still alive. Alberto had scrambled off of his chair and was pushing down onto Bennington’s chest, trying to keep the private detective’s failed heart pumping.

  “C’mon, Frank, stay with me! Stay with me!”

  Stasia’s plea was muddled and soon lost to the darkness of Frank’s retreating consciousness. His mind had but one final coherent thought.

  I love her…

  Frank Bennington was dead.

  Epilogue

  1.

  Hey, being dead isn’t so bad. Kinda feels like that moment right before you wake up, actually.

  “Mr. Bennington can you hear me?”

  Why does God sound Asian?

  “He’s waking slowly, the anesthesia is wearing off. Vitals are much improved, but we can’t be certain yet if there’s been cognitive trauma due to lack of oxygen to the brain.”

  Who the hell is he talking to?

  “Frank is tough. He’s going to be ok.”

  Stasia!

  Frank Bennington opened his eyes and saw the friendly, rounded face of Dr. Ben Loi staring back at him. The fifty-seven year old Dr. Loi was Director of Cardiology at New York’s St. Francis Hospital. His family had been among the thousands of Vietnamese fortunate enough to escape to the United States during the fall of Saigon in 1975. Now some thirty-nine years later, he was among the very best heart surgeons in the entire world.

  “Ah, there you are, Mr. Bennington. My name is Dr. Loi. I have been overseeing your care here at St. Francis at the personal request of Alexander Meyer.”

  Frank realized then he was in a hospital. He recalled the memory of stepping into the Illuminati church and finding Stasia standing in front of the altar alone and then the terrible chest pain followed by darkness.

  I had a heart attack, but I’m not dead!

  “Mr. Bennington, can you please try and focus on my finger and follow it with your eyes?”

  They’re worried I have brain damage.

  Frank opened his eyes wide and then began mumbling as if his mouth had been stuffed with balls of cotton. Dr. Loi’s face indicated his startled confusion over his patient’s response.

  “Well that’s odd. Uh, Mr. Bennington, please nod if you can hear me.”

  Bennington’s eyes grew even wider as a line of drool emerged from the left corner of his mouth and then slowly crept down the side of his grey stubble-covered chin.

  The doctor looked behind him at Stasia and shook his head.

  “This is most unusual.”

  Frank’s right hand suddenly lifted upward, his pointer finger extended toward the doctor as he continued to cotton-mouth a series of garbled words.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bennington, I don’t understand. You want me to hold your finger?”

  Bennington began shaking his finger excitedly. Dr. Loi moved closer to Frank, still very much confused by his patient’s atypical post-operative behavior. The doctor lightly grasped Bennington’s finger and then waited for a reaction.

  That reaction soon came in the form of an explosive expulsion of flatulence. The noise was so loud, so pronounced, Dr. Loi yelped as he let loose of Frank’s finger. This in turn caused Bennington to throw his head back and begin laughing hard enough it caused his recently opened chest to throb in pain despite the considerable pain relief medication leaking into him via the IV attached to his left forearm.

  Stasia covered her mouth with both hands in an attempt to stifle her own laughter as relief and gratitude for Frank’s well being glistened in her eyes.

  Finally realizing his patient had undertaken a rather elaborate deception at his own expense, Dr. Loi stood up and crossed his arms across his chest while glowering back at Frank.

  “Ok, it seems you’re doing well enough at the moment, Mr. Bennington. I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you again. If you need anything, let the nurses know.”

  Stasia moved to the side of Frank’s hospital bed and sat down, taking Frank’s left hand into her own. He thought to himself how good she looked in her form fitting navy blue slacks, white t-shirt and dark leathered bombers jacket – a perfect blend of kick ass feminine.

  “You gave me one hell of a scare, Frank. You were clinically dead. No vitals all the way from the church to the hospital. We all thought for sure you were gone for good. You’re being here now…even the doctor called it a miracle.”

  Bennington willed his face to smile, though he found the effort exhausting. His body, combined with the pain medication was demanding more sleep.

  “Hey, no big thing pretty lady. Back from the brink is kind of my thing.”

  Stasia watched as Frank’s eyes closed and his breathing deepened. Then those eyes suddenly opened again as he gripped her hand tightly.

  “Malthus? Zavala?”

  Stasia placed a finger over Frank’s dry, cracked lips.

  “Sshhh, they’re gone – dead. Just rest now.”

  Bennington’s eyes narrowed as he battled to keep them open.

  “How?”

  Stasia leaned over to kiss the private detective’s forehead and then whispered a s
ingle word before sleep finally did take Frank into its much needed embrace.

  “Gabriel.”

  2.

  Three weeks later…

  Frank Bennington sat with Stasia across a conference room table from Delroy Hines. Hines, who worked the front desk of the Meyer building for nearly thirty years, had been conducting surveillance on the actions of Peter Berg since Alexander David Meyer’s departure from New York. He was the same man who had called himself “Mr. Dorman” while calling Frank to announce Alberto Diaz’s arrival at the T3 clubhouse.

  Berg was caught by Hines attempting to collaborate with certain Saudi interests, a situation promptly relayed back to Alexander Meyer who just as promptly ordered Berg’s relationship with his varied and influential business interests abruptly terminated. The billionaire had no forgiveness for those opposed to his interest in salvaging something of an America that found itself increasingly under siege.

  “Thank you both for your efforts. While I am sorry for the loss of Guardian Nagato, you two proved yourself to be a formidable team. I hope to continue having you available for future assignments. I still need more time to prepare for what is coming, Mr. Bennington. We are now at the end of our enemy’s beginning, and they are far more powerful than even I anticipated.”

  Alexander Meyer’s voice was being transmitted through the shortwave radio that sat atop the conference room table. Not even Delroy Hines knew of the billionaire’s actual location.

  Frank assumed the Alexander Meyer was already aware of his prognosis. His already damaged heart was failing him. Dr. Loi wasn’t certain how much longer Bennington had left, just that it likely wasn’t much. The pacemaker would continue helping to regulate his heartbeat, but the heart muscles themselves were scarred beyond repair. The doctor had corrected a faulty valve responsible for Frank’s most recent attack, but that effort would only provide a temporary reprieve for what was a permanently worsening condition.

  “I don’t know if I’m much use for that kind of thing anymore, sir. This heart of mine is just about done with me.”

  “Your heart may be weakened, Mr. Bennington but your mind remains just as sharp and capable as ever. Combine that with Ms. Wellington’s own considerable talents and as already indicated you two make a formidable team. Allow me to offer you this as well – the finest doctors anywhere you find yourself in the world. You will be given the very best treatments to ensure that what life you do have remaining is of the highest quality possible. There is so much in the world you would not imagine. Evil exists and is at this very moment working to reduce humankind to an existence devoid of freedoms and opportunities for real experience and happiness.

  “We are at war, Mr. Bennington against those who would make slaves of us all. I ask that you join us in this fight. I don’t care about the compromised condition of your heart, for it is the uncompromised strength of your soul that makes you so valuable to this effort.”

  Bennington turned his head slightly to his right to glance at Stasia.

  “What do you think?”

  Stasia stared into Frank’s eyes for several seconds, wanting to assure him her answer came from a place of total honesty.

  “I think Mr. Meyer is right, we make one hell of a team.”

  Frank considered the dangers posed by continuing to be part of Alexander Meyer’s ambitious effort to somehow save the world from itself. Then he considered how that time would be spent – namely that it would be alongside Stasia. From there his decision became a very simple one.

  Bennington had been down and out so many times before he had long ago lost count. Though the time he had left was more uncertain than ever, how he spent it was for the first time in a very long time, his alone to decide and that felt very-very good.

  Let’s do this…

  END.

  Other books available by D.W. Ulsterman

  Read the entire Mac Walker series HERE

  EIGHT STORIES - ONE LOW PRICE!

  "If you enjoy Brad Thor and his Scot Harvath character, you will LOVE D.W. Ulsterman's Mac Walker. It's gritty, action-packed, and believable. D.W. Ulsterman creates a world of greater scope than does Thor, with implications effecting the present and the future. Last year I called D.W. Ulsterman the break-out writer of 2013 and I stand by that." -BIG TEXAS

  MAC WALKER: The Collection

  ** THE IRISH COWBOY **

  A story of love, loss, and redemption

  He gave his word, refused to break a vow, and lost his one chance at true love.

  Now they’ve come for his land.

  Hap Wilkes is a man facing a painful past, an increasingly uncertain future, and now fights with everything left in a broken and failing body to keep the one thing still left to him – his pride.

  The Irish Cowboy is a story of loss, secrets, redemption, and the always present human yearning for love and forgiveness, and marks the most personal novel to date from bestselling author D.W. Ulsterman.

  "A touching, bittersweet love story." -SilverScreenVideos.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

  D.W. Ulsterman lives near his beloved waters with his beautiful wife of 22 years, and their two teenage children, along with two cats and two dogs.

  His interests, beyond the always-present task of writing, are music, film, fishing, an often infuriating golf game, respectable BBQ skills, and sampling various wines from around the world. He feels blessed to share his days with the love of his life, and watch their two children grow into the remarkable young adults they have become.

  Many of D.W. Ulsterman’s personal interests are reflected in his works, including a love of America, classic rock, and the “indelible education that results from experiencing fist to face.”

  His writings include the bestselling Mac Walker series of books, including the epic tales DOMINATUS and TUMULTUS, as well as the more recent Bennington P.I. series.

  This past summer he released his most personal novel to date, The Irish Cowboy.

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