God's Lions - House of Acerbi

by John Lyman

  “Has anyone talked to Eduardo yet?” Leo asked.

  Morelli smiled. “I have.”

  CHAPTER 64

  Eduardo Acerbi stared out the window and watched as a line of black SUVs turned off the highway and headed toward his house. As soon as they crunched to a stop on the gravel driveway, several armed men jumped from the lead SUV and began fanning out over the surrounding field as a dark-haired man stepped from the back seat and looked up at the windows on the second floor. The time for a long overdue meeting between father and son was at hand.

  Stepping up onto the front porch, Rene Acerbi brushed some field dust from his cashmere overcoat and removed a pair of dark sunglasses while he waited. Slowly, the door opened, and a frail Eduardo Acerbi gazed up into the dark eyes of his son. After a long, uncomfortable silence, the old man turned and motioned for Rene to enter.

  Once inside, Rene immediately noticed the rustic simplicity of his father’s home. “I can’t believe you gave it all up for this.”

  Eduardo’s eyes remained neutral as he smiled. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Tea? How quaint, Father. Yes, tea would be nice if that’s all you have to offer me after all these years.”

  “Oh, I have much more to offer, my son. Please, why don’t you take off your coat and join me upstairs in the library?”

  Rene threw his coat over the back of a worn fabric couch and nodded to the security men standing behind him before following his father up the stairs. The old man pointed to a table by the window before walking into his small kitchen to gather cups and plates.

  Rene made no attempt to conceal the smirk on his face as he watched Eduardo reach for the teapot on the stove. “So, Father, what led you to finally reveal yourself to me after all this time?”

  Eduardo moved out of the kitchen with the tea and a box of freshly-baked croissants. “Time? Time is irrelevant to people of our faith, my son. In the grand scheme of things, the time we spend in the world is but a flash. We are like flames on a match that suddenly blaze forth and end just as quickly in a wisp of smoke, extinguished by a single breath, but it’s what we do during that brief flash of existence that shapes our eternal destiny.”

  “Please, Father, spare me your philosophic sermons about our so-called faith. We both know that faith is only a means to an end, a way to control the masses so that there can be some semblance of order in a world full of those who have barely evolved from their animal ancestors. Without the illusion of an afterlife, people would run amuck. Wiser men than us have known this for thousands of years. Promise the people an afterlife full of peace and joy and you can make them do anything. Religion has been the world’s biggest con since the day man shaped his first idol. Marx called it the opiate of the masses, but religion today is far from being a benign zone of comfort. It’s more like an amphetamine.”

  The old man took a seat by the window and began to pour the tea with trembling hands. “So, I take it you never read the scrolls I gave you.”

  Rene threw his head back in laughter. “There is so much you don’t know about me, Father. Actually, I read a copy of the scrolls when I was still a teenager. Quite amusing, actually. There are other scrolls you know ... actually a book, a book with a much different message.”

  Eduardo’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard rumors.”

  “Then you’ve heard right, Father, because that book contained the words of our true God ... Rex Mundi!”

  “You’re wrong!” The old man’s sudden intensity startled Rene, causing him to involuntarily recoil from the force of his father’s words. “The book was destroyed!”

  “Yes, but we still have its words. Where do you think we received the instructions for altering human DNA? I’m surprised no one else has uncovered it yet. The blueprint for using wheat to change human DNA was encoded within the Devil’s Bible, as you call it. All we had to do was develop a virus that affected only those who’s DNA we altered. We were gifted with a perfect plan ... a plan that came from Rex Mundi himself. He gave us the ideal method for ridding the planet of excess baggage while saving the rest of us to rule over a better world.” Rene smiled as he watched his father’s eyes grow wide. “I see you still have some fire left in you, old man.”

  “I have more than fire ... I have the truth. Following the words of an evil entity like Rex Mundi will only lead you to ruin! You must come out of the darkness and into the light, my son. I will help you.”

  “The old yin and yang speech, Father? Good versus evil? A god of light and a god of darkness? Do you really believe your god of light is any more powerful than Rex Mundi? Because if you do, I have news for you, Father. The light is quickly fading, and Rex Mundi will soon control it all.”

  “He only controls that which is base and material. Surely you must see that your thinking is flawed. There is another force in the universe ... a force of light that we call love, and nothing is more powerful.”

  “That force did little for our ancestors, and it’s done even less for me and obviously even less for you. Rex Mundi rules the here and now ... the material world, for that’s all we have and that’s all we will ever have. He makes no promises for a golden afterlife, so we must make of this one all that we can.”

  The elder Acerbi stared back at his son, his breathing labored by the intensity of their meeting. It was now obvious to him that his son had made his choice. Maybe it was his fault ... maybe it wasn’t. Maybe the choice had been made for Rene before he was even born ... who knew, but whatever the cause, Eduardo had been hit with the final, terrible realization that he would never steer his son away from the terrible path he had chosen. He had failed as a father—and it was now his duty to correct that mistake.

  “At least let me have the satisfaction of giving you something to eat while you are here. Have a croissant ... they’re delicious.”

  “You’re quite the host, Father. Maybe you’d like a job working for me at my chateau.”

  The old man’s shoulders where hunched more than usual as he watched Rene reach into the box and lift out a croissant.

  “In answer to your original question, my time here on this earth is growing short, my son. That is why I have revealed myself to you, as you put it. I was hoping that there was some way I could get through to you, because what you’re doing is wrong. You have the potential to be so much more. It’s not too late my son. Throw off the shackles of hate and let the light shine through. Just think of how you could ...”

  Rene burst into laughter. “Really, Father? Parental advice?”

  The old man’s aged body seemed to wilt from sadness as he turned his head and stared out the window. The dark shadows across the road were coming closer.

  “You’re right, Father, these croissants are delicious. Who makes them for you?”

  Eduardo squeezed his eyes shut to block the tears before he turned back to face his son. “I made them myself. Collette taught me how to make them after we were married.”

  “Colette! My nanny? You married my nanny?”

  “Why yes ... why do you seem so surprised?”

  “You’re even more pathetic than I first thought. You walked away from a financial empire and deserted your family to marry a nanny?”

  “A nanny who was like a mother to you.” The fire had returned to Eduardo’s eyes. “I left for reasons of faith and to protect you and your mother from those who would have sought to destroy you if they had known I was still alive, but that means little to someone like you. I can see that now.”

  “Please, Father, spare me the I did it all for you speech.”

  The old man fixed his son with a blank look one gives an unwelcome stranger as he shook out a dusty napkin and placed it on his lap.

  Rene coughed as the fine dust entered his nostrils and settled over the table. “You might want to think about hiring a housekeeper to do some cleaning around here.” Rene glanced around the room at all the shelves of books with a look of disgust.

  “You know, Father, people who once knew you have
told me that you were one of the smartest men who ever lived. Now, here you sit, surrounded by all of this knowledge, making tea and staring out a window. What a waste.”

  Rene threw the uneaten half of his croissant on the plate and stood. “I believe our little meeting here is at an end. I’ve seen all I need to see, and it sickens me.” He paused for a moment as he looked down at his father. “Aren’t you the least curious why I agreed to come?”

  Eduardo glanced up without answering.

  “I only came here because I thought it was possible you might still be some kind of a threat. What a joke. You had quite a reputation for cunning in your day, but I can see now that a creature as pathetic as you is no threat to anyone, much less someone like me.”

  Eduardo stood and extended a frail hand. “Good bye, son. May God watch over you for the rest of your days.”

  A look of surprise crossed Rene’s face as he glanced down at his father’s tremulous outstretched hand and laughed. “Good bye, old man. Enjoy the so-called light you so desperately seek, because the only light you will see upon your death is the light of fire as you burn in hell with the rest of your kind.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in the afterlife, my son.”

  “You misunderstood. I said I didn’t believe in heaven, Father.”

  With those final words, Rene turned and walked down the stairs and out of his father’s house.

  Outside, a security man held the door of the SUV as Acerbi settled into the back seat. “Should we take care of him now, sir?”

  “No. It’s obvious the old man is dying. There will be fewer questions if we let nature take its course.”

  “Of course.” The security man closed the door and waved to the others to return to their vehicles.

  Alone now in his upstairs library, Eduardo Acerbi stood at the window and watched the line of black SUVs pull out onto the highway before driving away through the long shadows that had finally covered the road. Slowly, he walked back across the room and lifted the box of croissants from the table before throwing them in a red trash bag concealed inside a special container behind the kitchen counter. When he was done, he picked up the phone and dialed a number. He waited. Within seconds of the call, blue flashing lights surrounded his house as dozens of vehicles carrying men in blue biohazard suits descended on the area from every direction and began to swarm over the property.

  Eduardo Acerbi was now sitting in the middle of a hot zone—one he himself had just created. The so-called dust he had shaken from his napkin into his son’s face had held enough viral material to infect thousands. He sat back and listened to the heavy footsteps of the men in blue suits running up the stairs, but he had no fear of the deadly virus that was now dancing on the currents of air all around him, for unlike Rene, the old man had not eaten one of the croissants made from his son’s genetically altered wheat.

  CHAPTER 65

  Three days after the meeting with his father in the village of Foix, Rene Acerbi had gone to bed early with a cold. In the middle of the night, he had awakened with a throbbing headache and a high fever.

  Damn! What a time to get sick. He had an appointment in the morning, one that was too important to reschedule. Struggling from his bed, he could feel his sweat-soaked pajamas sticking to his body, and by the time he had reached the bathroom, he was doubled over with fits of coughing so violent that they made his ribs hurt.

  Turning on the light, he looked in the mirror and jumped back. His face was covered in blotchy, purplish-red patches. Pulling up the sleeves of his pajamas, he saw that his arms were also covered with the same reddish blotches. A sudden shiver made him grit his teeth as he grabbed the bathroom counter to brace himself against another round of coughing that caused spots to drift before his eyes. No—it couldn’t be—could it? The stockpiles of the pathogen had been safely locked away, and he had taken every precaution to avoid contamination in the lab, yet the symptoms were all there—the purple splotches were a hallmark of the virus. What else could it be?

  Acerbi coughed again, releasing a torrent of blood that flew from his mouth and splattered against the mirror. He let out a piercing scream and threw open the bathroom door before stumbling back into his room and out into the hall.

  A security man standing on the stairs at the end of the hall heard his screams and ran to help, but he stopped and drew back in fear when he saw the dark splotches covering Acerbi’s face. Rene continued down the hallway, his vision becoming dimmer as he felt his way, leaving a trail of bloody handprints along the wall. By now, several of the household staff had been alerted to his plight, and lights began to come on in rooms all over the chateau.

  Awakened by the frightened security man, Emilio flew from his room, his bathrobe flowing out behind him as he ran through the chateau. He had almost reached the second floor when he looked up and froze. Standing above him, leaning against a blood-spattered railing, was Rene Acerbi. Emilio recoiled when he saw the blood-red eyes staring back at him. A yellowish froth was oozing from the corner of Acerbi’s mouth, and his breathing now came in sporadic, rasping gasps that trailed off in a horrible bubbling noise that wracked him once again with a wave of coughing that spewed blood-tinged mucus into the air.

  With visions of the invisible pathogen floating all around him, Emilio began to back away. He fully expected Acerbi to scream at him to stop, but instead, the grotesque thing hovering over him only gasped and bubbled and stared out into space with unseeing eyes before falling straight ahead onto the hard marble stairs with a sickening thud before rolling all the way down to the first floor with all the grace of a leaky plastic bag filled with the bloody day-old remains of a butchered carcass.

  Emilio turned and ran past a screaming female servant, tearing across the grand foyer until he reached the chateau’s thick wooden front doors. He pulled with all his strength, flinging one of the doors inward, then stopped, frozen in place by yet another frightening sight. A blue monster was staring straight at him. Was this a dream ... a nightmare? Yes, of course, he was still asleep. He had to wake up. The blue monster reached out and jerked him outside into the arms of another blue monster.

  Emilio began to feel weak, his vision growing dim with fear as he felt the monsters leading him away into the night, where there were lights—lots and lots of flashing blue lights. Looking around, the defrocked priest slowly began to realize that he wasn’t dreaming after all. He could feel himself being pressed against a van. He was being handcuffed. The blue monsters were men wearing blue biohazard suits, like the one he had worn the day Acerbi had shown him the pathogen. He could hear the hiss of air from their self-contained breathing apparatus as they shoved him inside the van and closed the door.

  Unbeknownst to those inside the chateau, they were now surrounded by a multi-national military force, including a biohazard team from the World Health Organization, the one organization that, surprisingly, Acerbi had failed to infiltrate.

  Standing on the road outside the main gate leading to the chateau, Danny Zamir looked on as his men assisted in rounding up the core members of Acerbi’s inner circle. News trucks bristling with satellite dishes were already arriving, and soon the world would know the real truth about Rene Acerbi and his plan for world domination led by a cadre of the privileged elite.

  Naturally, there would be the predicted shock among people the world over when they first heard the news of the death of Rene Acerbi, a man who had ironically just died from the same virus his company had supposedly developed a vaccine for. Acerbi had been looked upon by the people of the world as a hero, but as soon as those same people learned the truth about him, their grief would turn to rage.

  In the next twenty-four hours, Acerbi’s people would begin to turn on each other in a dog-eat-dog race to claim ignorance and blame others. Soon, government officials, followed by reporters, would be swarming outside his labs after sources inside began to reveal the true facts behind the horror that had been unleashed on the world by Rene Acerbi and his power hungry asso
ciates.

  In a matter of weeks, the extent of Acerbi’s influence inside governments around the world would begin to surface. Countless high-ranking government officials would be exposed, and their embedded accomplices would be quickly arrested.

  Other insiders would try desperately to make a deal with authorities by naming names, and as soon as the names of those involved were leaked to the press, mobs would surround their homes and deliver their own brand of justice before the police or military could arrive to arrest them.

  The era of Rene Acerbi was over, and a plan seven hundred years in the making would now be nothing more than fodder for countless books and movies about one of the most diabolical schemes to ever cross the threshold of human imagination.

  CHAPTER 66

  One Month Later

  Cardinal Leopold Amodeo was awakened early in the morning by the sound of voices outside the cabin. Shuffling from his warm bed, he opened the thick wooden door to find the head of the Mossad looking him straight in the face.

  Leo rubbed his eyes. “Good morning, Danny.”

  Danny Zamir smiled back. “Good morning yourself, Cardinal.”

  “Haven’t you heard? I’m no longer a cardinal.” Leo peered over Zamir’s shoulder at several Israeli commandos standing among the trees. “Is this a social visit?”

  “We’ve come to take you all home ... and by the way, the pope has reinstated you to your former position.”

  A sleepy voice called out from inside the cabin. “Who is it, Leo?”

  “It’s the Mossad. It appears we’re surrounded.”

  Zamir looked through the doorway and saw Evita Vargas curled up in a large chair under a blanket.

  “Ask them if they want some coffee.”

  “We don’t have time,” Zamir said. “There’s a chopper down on the highway and a plane waiting for us on the runway at the base of the mountain. Where’s Lev?”

  “Right behind you.”

  Danny swung around to see his old friend, Lev Wasserman, standing behind him holding the stub of a cigar in his hand. “We just heard about Acerbi on the shortwave radio. So it’s all over, eh Danny?”