Rise of the Nephilim

by Adam Rushing

  Eric tossed the keys to the valet when they arrived and took up his escort position behind the cardinal. Two people, a man and a woman, broke off from the hub-bub of the main lobby and hurried toward them as they walked inside. Eric and Brad instinctively moved their hands to their side arms, but it appeared Archbishop Miller knew them, even if he wasn’t particularly pleased to see them.

  “Greetings Mister Sullivan… Miss Cooper…” he said coldly. “As you can see, I came like you asked. I’m looking forward to seeing how this farce turns out.”

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again, too, Your Excellency,” the beautiful raven-haired woman returned, diplomatically ignoring his barbs. “I think you’ll find that a little more understanding between everyone will make striking a dialogue easier than contention ever did. I hope we can overcome your apprehension by the end of the week.”

  She took a moment to size up both Eric and Brad before nodding her approval and extending her hand.

  “Well at least you have some capable looking chaps with you. I’m Doctor Emily Cooper and this is my co-coordinator Jude Sullivan. You may have heard of him.”

  Eric took the lead and accepted her handshake. As he looked into her eyes, his honed battle senses couldn’t help but whisper something was different about her. “I’m Eric Strauss, and this is Bradley Chambers. It’s a pleasure to be of service.”

  “Our goal is to not have need of your services,” Emily replied matter-of-factly. “We do, however, appreciate your assistance, nonetheless. Archbishop, please come this way, so we may discuss your itinerary. Jude, darling, will you please show the men to their rooms?”

  Eric began to protest as she led the Cardinal away, but Jude held his hand up. “Don’t worry about your assignment right now, Mister Strauss. Those two are perfectly safe here, even without you. Trust me.”

  “If you say so, sir,” he surrendered.

  “Please, call me Jude. Now, let me show you to your rooms. We have situated the both of you across the hall from the cardinal’s room for easy access. We have also placed his entourage on either side of him, so he will be surrounded by his own people. Hopefully, this arrangement will assuage your concerns.”

  He cleared his throat nervously as they boarded the elevator, “I’ve never really been around mercenary types before, so forgive me if I don’t really know what to talk about.”

  Brad laughed, “We really aren’t like what the movies depict. We’re mostly just normal people who like to shoot stuff, but hate the government pay checks. What do you do, anyway?”

  Jude relaxed a little.

  “I’m a paranormal investigator. I have a television show, and I’ve written a few books also.”

  “That’s where I know you from!” Brad chimed in enthusiastically. “I remember seeing you on one of those documentaries on the History Channel!”

  Jude nodded, “The segment on the Jersey Devil?”

  “What about Miss Cooper?” Eric interrupted, before the conversation went off track. “What’s her deal?”

  Jude blushed like an exasperated teenager, as he talked about Emily. “She used to be a high school teacher, but that’s a long story and not really important. Just listen to anything she has to say. She’s essentially in charge here.”

  Eric didn’t know what to make of Jude’s claim, but discipline dictated that he not try to pry. If he was meant to know, he would be told. Whatever the man meant, he had confirmed that something strange was happening. Neither a ghost hunter nor a teacher made sense as VIPs of this event. He decided to be extra attentive around the both of them.

  They paused in the lobby on their floor. From here, they could look out the large window panes into the heart of the city. Jude paused and held his hand to his ear as if listening to a voice. Eric was puzzled, until he noticed the tiny earpiece Jude was wearing.

  “This part is a little awkward. Please hold still,” he commanded, as he pulled out a small electronic wand. “Don’t make any sudden moves, until I’m done. Please be aware you have snipers trained on you right now.” After a few passes with the device, Jude nodded, listened into the earpiece again, and smiled at them.

  “Ok, you guys are good to go. Here are your room keys, gentlemen.”

  “Umm, thanks,” said Brad, clearly at a loss for the strange behavior. “What are you scanning for, exactly? You went right over my gun and that device didn’t go off, so it’s not a metal detector.”

  Jude shook his head. “I’m sorry, that information is on a need-to-know basis, and you haven’t been cleared for that. Trust me,” he said before Eric could protest, “it concerns nothing you could deal with. I’m sorry if that seems vague or offensive. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other guests to greet.”

  * * *

  Later that night, Jude and Emily sat at the bar in their hotel, winding down after the long day of receptions. He had opted for a relatively expensive scotch to top off his night, while Emily was drinking a Cosmopolitan. They were deep in conversation about the upcoming day when Jude spied a familiar form walk into the room.

  “Well, look who it is! It’s about time you came out of the shadows, Antonio! How have you been?”

  Father Gallo joined them, looking gaunt and overworked. “It has been a long few months, Amico Mio. I apologize for my absence, but I needed some time to myself. When I came back, I began helping the Vicar General with planning the conference. There has been so much to do, that I have barely had enough hours in the day. I think after this, I will sleep for a week! Is that Glenfiddich? I believe I could go for one of those.”

  He motioned for the waitress and continued to look around for a bit. Emily cleared her throat to regain his attention. “Good to see you are least still in good spirits, Padre.”

  Gallo gave her a long look, as if he were looking at something alien. Only he and Jude knew that was true. “Being an exorcist, as I was…” He began,” as I still am… took more faith than most. I accepted that God was watching over me and protecting humanity from evil. Then you appear, and I find out that it hasn’t been God watching over us, but the Grigori. It has been a lot to process. I have taken a leave of absence from the Asociación while I sort things out, but I still want to do whatever else is within my power.”

  “And that is all we could ask for,” supported Jude, spying Gallo’s drink on its way. “Have you heard of any possible dangers?”

  “Thank you,” Gallo said in a quick aside to the server, as she gave him his drink. He gulped it down quickly and begged for another. “On the human side of things? We have word of several protest groups that will be outside the event. It’s mostly fundamentalist Protestant and Islamic groups that are protesting. A few sectarian groups, angry that the rival interpretation of their religion is getting equal treatment, are there also, but all of the protestors have obtained the appropriate authorizations to conduct their demonstrations. The best we can do is be sure all of them don’t clash and start an altercation. Trying to wrangle all of these fanatics has been a bitch.”

  “That’s some surprisingly strong language coming from you, Father,” observed Jude.

  Gallo sat back and laughed, “If the rules are mostly made up anyway, it’s ok to ignore a few, right? I have refrained from cursing all my life, and now I’m going to enjoy the freedom. I may even meet me a nice woman. It’s been far too long since I’ve known the touch of one.

  “Just be careful, dear Father,” urged Emily. “It’s fine to go the Full Monty, especially after what you have been through, but don’t lose yourself to your new vices.”

  “I know my limitations,” Gallo snapped before changing the subject. “Enough of my problems, however. I propose a toast. Here’s to what tomorrow may bring!”

  The rest of the evening was filled with drinking and merriment, as the couple told their friend about their adventures around the globe and tried to push away the momentous weight of the coming week’s activities.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The smoky glass window pan
es of the Centre International de Conférences Genève dully reflected the morning sun back onto the bustling sidewalk. The building’s small hanging gardens lined the square façade at street level. Its sunken foundation hid the fact that the complex was actually four stories tall instead of the two it appeared to be. Delegates from a multitude of religions were filing into the triangular grand entrance that jutted out from the northern corner, ignoring the chanting of the protestors blocked off from the main thoroughfare by armed guards and concrete barriers. Inside, the attendees were being guided through the usual conference fanfare of finding a table for registration and receiving a list of the day’s itinerary with seating arrangements.

  The lobby was an expansive area on the ground floor big enough to accommodate the milling crowd. The burnt orange low-pile carpet, and wood walls were a testament to the Center’s nineteen seventies-era construction. Even the auditorium was a washed out palette of red-orange paneling and seats, highlighting the beige walls and gray tables gathered around the dais at the bottom center of the room. Close to one of the four major offices of the United Nations, the Center was one of the largest exhibition centers in Europe designed for the purpose of lectures and meetings. It accommodated over two thousand people and supported twenty simultaneous translation booths, so that every attendee could understand what was being said.

  The exhibition floor flowed with a rainbow of varying ethnic garb. The colorful silk kurtas of Hindu sadhus and black cassocks of the Eastern Orthodox Church intermingled with the orange robes of Buddhist monks and the embroidered prayer caps of Muslim imams. The kick-off session would begin promptly at nine hundred local time with an invocation performed by the Pope himself, who was scheduled to outline the objectives of the week. The ultimate goal was to familiarize the attendees with their fellows, detail the similarities between the religions, and figure out ways to minimize inter-faith animosity and strengthen cooperation among believers.

  This collection of religious figureheads did not mean that the summit would be an esoteric collaboration of powerful, influential men and women intended to be closed to the public. In fact, the entirety of the week’s activities was scheduled to be aired by major broadcasters including CSPAN, the BBC, and Al-Jazeera.

  During the break between the first and second sessions, Jude stood in the atrium and watched the throng funnel through the doors. He checked his watch. It was almost time to begin again, and Gallo was still nowhere to be found. He couldn’t imagine his friend would have shirked his duties and stayed at the bar too late last night. He shook his head and kept walking. He didn’t have time to go searching. Archbishop Miller was already paging him. The cardinal had proven to be pompous and fussy, much to Jude’s chagrin. He imagined it was a rare day when this man did not get his way, and he had been incredibly vocal in expressing so since his arrival in Geneva.

  Jude meandered around the atrium to the back hall of the auditorium and ascended two flights of stairs. He met Eric in the third story hallway just outside of meeting room 13. The private security officer whistled in relief at the sight of him.

  “Hello, Mister Strauss”, greeted Jude. “How is the good archbishop today?”

  “As delightful as ever,” answered former soldier sarcastically. “You can call me Eric.”

  He tossed his head toward the door behind his shoulder and chuckled. “I’m sure my comrade will let you call him whatever you want, if you will just take Archbishop Miller off our hands for a bit. That man has a serious bug up his ass. I think I’d rather be facing bullets than babysitting him.”

  Jude sighed, “What’s the issue now?”

  “It seems the immediate area around his seat has a little… more Middle Eastern than he cares for.”

  Jude sighed even louder, “For Christ’s sake…. Let me talk to him.”

  Eric escorted him to the door, where the two men could hear the priest yelling inside. They opened it to see the older man pacing the floor of the small meeting room and venting his displeasure to a shaking aide and painfully stoic Bradley Chambers.

  “… not like I can ever forgive what they did to Manhattan, and now I have to basically sit down and hold hands with those terrorists? I won’t stand for it! If we all have to be here, then they should all be sitting in the back with their own kind!”

  Jude cleared his throat for attention.

  “I understand you have a problem with the seating arrangements, Archbishop?”

  “You bet I do,” the Cardinal answered angrily, as he redirected his gaze. “There is no reason I should be sitting near pagans and heretics, much less seeing His Holiness subjected to such an affront by placing him in a similar situation.”

  Jude crossed his arms over his chest and assumed a defiant stance. “The point is to alternate seating to break down barriers and promote inter-faith dialogue. If you would only try, I think you might just find some common ground. If you want to take it up with the Pope, though, be my guest. The last time I saw him, he was having a cup of breakfast tea with the Dali Lama. Your interests would best be served by following his example, Cardinal.”

  Archbishop Miller glared at him defiantly and opened his mouth for a retort, but he snapped it shut swiftly. He seemed to be calculating the political advantages of following Jude’s advice. “Fine,” he replied. “I’ll do that. I’ll also be the first to hold you accountable when this charade falls apart.”

  “Please do,” challenged Jude, knowing he had won this round with the embittered ecclesiast. “The next session should be starting in a few minutes, so I suggest you hurry.”

  Archbishop Miller retreated into the hallway, barking orders at his assistants to follow. They flocked behind him and disappeared down the stairs toward the first floor. Brad let out a sigh of relief and whistled, as he ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Wow. We really hit the jackpot with that guy. I thought this would be a cakewalk, but at this rate it’s all I can do not to shoot him myself. Thanks for helping us out.”

  “No problem,” assured Jude. “It’s people like that who really need to be here, anyway. If you two would like, I can take you down to the security office while you wait. We won’t have a big break until lunch. There should still be some breakfast down there, too.”

  Both men nodded and queued behind him. He led them downward toward the operations center in the basement of the complex. The security office was situated below the main auditorium and monitored the numerous levels and hallways through a system of dozens of closed circuit cameras. Given the high profile nature of the meetings and attendees that frequented Geneva, safety and a quick response time to perceived threats were precious commodities among the many venues dotting its streets.

  Ten faces glanced up at them, as the three men walked through the door of the facility. They gazed at the two strangers quizzically, but upon recognizing Jude they returned to their tasks of poring over security monitors and computer screens. Jude spied Emily in the corner perusing a small stack of papers and led them to her. She was so lost in her work that he had to clear his throat to gain her attention. She jumped up with a squeal of delight and planted a long welcome kiss on Jude’s mouth, unashamed of the public display of affection. He could feel the heat of the other men’s jealousy behind him, but he knew they had no idea what this woman had thrust them into.

  “Welcome back, lover,” she said in a sultry voice, as if it had been days since she saw him last, not a couple of hours. “I have nothing to report here. Everything is going smoothly!”

  Jude managed a slight smile and replied, “Let’s hope it stays that way. You remember Eric and Brad, Archbishop Miller’s bodyguards from the hotel? I figured they could relax down here for a while and take a break from His Eminence.”

  Emily nodded, “Hello again, gentlemen. Please, make yourselves at home. We’ve turned the infirmary next door into a break room with some snacks and a television. We will keep an eye on him from here and make sure only his ego suffers.”

  “Thank you both
for the hospitality,” offered Eric. “The archbishop needs to discover he isn’t the center of the world at some point. It’ll be nice to relax for a little while.”

  “Please, let us know if you need anything,” Jude called after the two, as they disappeared into the break room.

  Turning to Emily, he asked, “You haven’t seen Antonio, have you? I waited for him in the hallway, but he hasn’t shown up yet.”

  “He came in through one of the side entrances a while ago,” answered Emily. “He was with some fellow clergymen near the cafeteria, if you want to meet up with him.”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “I’m sure we will see him soon enough. I’m just glad he isn’t passed out in the city somewhere. Do you need any help?”

  She smiled, “Not at the moment, no. Why don’t you get some rest too? It’s going to be a long week.”

  Jude nodded and yawned, “It’s hard to believe I was sleeping in the jungle just a few months ago. Now, I’m babysitting fussy clerics, and they are wearing me out more than the wilds ever did! Wake me if you need me.”

  He lay down on a utilitarian couch in the corner of the room, while Emily fetched a blanket for him. He closed his eyes and let himself drift into slumber, guided by the rhythmic tapping of keyboards and the drone of the server cooling fans.

  Chapter Eighteen