Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1)

by Suggs, Lester

  “Using the same process, and from the parking lot footage we know he is using car rentals. We caught him at Avis down on Stanwick Street. But, again, the activated rental time coded to the video feed was for a …” Bryce was saying and Joe cut in.

  “George Flickman?” Joe asked.

  “No,” Bryce answered. “A Theodore Brenston.”

  “So,” Joe exhaled, “Mr. DeLuca has obtained multiple identities?”

  “But the funny thing is,” Bryce said looking up from his notepad, “Every ID he's used comes up valid. In this day and age, a spoofed ID will raise many flags. You just can't make up people. Every person is real, seemingly.”

  “Seemingly?” Joe asked.

  “Seemingly,” Bryce replied. “Each raises no flags and each has multiple duplications.”

  “Meaning?” Joe asked.

  “Meaning, there are six George Flickman's. Four alive. Two recently deceased. Nine Theodore Brenston's. All alive. All with established histories and activities, both Theodore and George,” Bryce said.

  “Mr. DeLuca is, apparently, a master identification thief in a time of that being a near impossibility,” Joe said, adding, “Have you beacon'd his new cell?”

  “Chris is doing that now. We should have his location in,” Bryce checked his watch, “ten - fifteen minutes.”

  “I want a team of four, in suites,” Joe said as he stood and reached for his jacket. “I want to confront this fucker where ever we find him.”

  Bryce gave a sharp, “Yes sir, I'll call in the request,” and left Joe's door way.

  Joe pushed out behind him and went for the door.

  Griffin and Itishree shopped with a seriousness each never imagined. After Griffin explained that it would be best if they didn't go back to their residences before leaving, Itishree became fierce in her need to replace the few comforts she brought from India. His mind wandered in Itishree's presence. Gabriel would prod Griffin now and again, but Griffin put the solemnity aside and tried to enjoy the day. When he would see Itishree purchase an item he needed to cover the same purpose, Griffin become more involved in his own purchases. Itishree would giggle. He would smile.

  Griffin didn't press their growing relationship. He had little experience with Indian women. Well, okay, no experience. He also realized he had little experience with women or relationships. He resigned to caution. And, when that failed, he just relaxed and became himself. After all they were preordained to occupy each other's time for years to come. Could he get fired from such a role? Would Itishree grow tired of him? Could they become closer? Again, Griffin had to talk himself into relaxing. Gabriel didn't answer his lesser questions throughout the day. And, for that, Griffin was grateful. He knew the thoughts racing threw their minds were driven from ego and bordered childish. But, his feelings for Itishree were strong. And Itishree seemed to genuinely enjoy his company.

  They shopped for two solid hours in and around a mall outside the far reaches of western Pittsburgh. After what Griffin had witnessed the day before, he was staying clear of downtown.

  They walked back to the car and deposited a few more bags into the car's trunk. Griffin opened the door for Itishree again which earned a short laugh from Itishree.

  “If you would let me open and close my own door, we may be able to contain this shopping experience to a single day,” she said.

  Griffin smiled and asked, “Are you sure? I enjoy it.”

  “Yes, please Griffin. I can open my own door,” Itishree said and leaned over towards him.

  Griffin leaned to meet her. They kissed. A small sweet exchange.

  Itishree opened her eyes and said, “I already know all you're trying to convey.”

  She withdrew and squared herself back into her seat.

  “Oh you do?” Griffin more stated than asked.

  “Yes,” she said looking at him. Her eyes narrowed and she presented a look of mischief.

  Griffin had enough experience to know what that look meant. He drank in her sultry expression and began to allow himself a reaction when Gabriel made a disproving tone in their minds.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” Griffin thought to their minds.

  Gabriel made no response.

  They drove to the sprawling retail complex on the opposite side of the highway. Griffin mentioned there was a sporting goods store where they could pick up comfortable and durable shoes. Parking the car, Griffin asked Itishree if she was hungry and checked his watch and saw the it was nearly lunch time.

  “No, I'm too excited and involved to be hungry yet,” she purred in a heavy accent letting her purposeful English slip away.

  “I love your accent,” Griffin said getting out of the car.

  She stood smiling and said, “I love your eyes.”

  They entered the sporting goods mega store and headed to the back where Griffin knew they displayed the shoes. They walked through display after display of synthetic clothing with outrageous colors. Tall brand banners covered the walls on either side, proclaiming their superiority over the other brands. Itishree walked closer to Griffin and took his hand. They bisected the remaining isles holding onto each other. Neither spoke. Griffin felt he would melt. Itishree seemed at peace. They glided through the store without acknowledging the connection between them. They were within each other. Floating in each other's aura.

  Once they hit the shoes they formulated a plan. Bring back their collection to a single bench and try on the shoes.

  “See you soon,” Itishree said smiling.

  “This bench,” Griffin pointed with his chin as he turned toward the men's shoe section.

  Itishree headed in the opposite direction.

  Griffin preferred cross trainers and low purpose hiking shoes. Within a few minutes he had two styles of each piled on the bench. Itishree had dropped two boxes, he saw. One looked like a cross between a sneaker and sandals. The other pair was a medium purpose shoe, similar to a cross trainer. Did women have cross trainers? Griffin wondered.

  Griffin saw Itishree round an end cap in the women's running shoe isle and they exchanged glances and smiles. She slide down the nearer isle. Griffin turned to his left thinking of searching a modified sandal for himself. As his gaze passed over the main isle of the store, he saw a man he recognized. He had dark features, dark sunglasses, and was wearing a suit. It was his head shape and suit that Griffin recalled. He stood frozen between shoe displays trying to remember where he had first seen this character.

  The suited man was searching intently for something in the store. His actions were not that of a shopper looking for the hottest driver or camouflage gear. This guy was out of place. Hell, he would be out of place almost anywhere. Griffin swore.

  He darted down the nearest isle toward the back wall, and then left into the women's section of the shoe department. Two rows over he found Itishree looking into boxes.

  “Help me find a size eight?” she asked.

  “Stay back here until I return,” Griffin ordered Itishree. “We have company in the store. I think someone is looking for me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes really,” He walked by Itishree towards the front of the store.

  Itishree followed Griffin to the end of the isle and strained to look over the displays and the store floor.

  Griffin stopped at the displays beyond the row and scanned the clothing racks for the suited man. From his far left, he emerged from the Golf equipment kiosk. He continued to wear a hunter expression.

  Griffin walked away from Itishree and headed down an isle that would bisect the man's route. He didn't take his eyes off the man. They both headed toward an intersection point, Griffin headed back to front of the sporting mega store, and the suited man heading right to left.

  The suited man saw Griffin and fixed his head position. Griffin continued toward the store front, never taking his eyes off the stranger. The man mouthed a couple of words and before Griffin's walk crossed into the women's sports bar displays, four more suited men wi
th sunglasses and bulging torso's entered the sporting store. They were trapped.

  Griffin stopped his approach and looked from the original man to the four. They advanced on him. Griffin began to take a step backwards when the first suited man waved to the others. They halted their advance but never took their gaze off of Griffin. The original man came within two clothing racks and stopped. For two breaths no one moved.

  “Griffin DeLuca,” the man said, “I am field supervisor Joseph Diclaro of Homeland Security. I have a few questions for you.”

  Gabriel thought to Griffin, “I am with you. Be not afraid.”

  “I am not afraid,” Griffin thought to their minds, “I am pissed off.”

  “Mr. DeLuca, why have you purchased a new cell phone with created identification?” the field agent said.

  Griffin said nothing. He continued to look from Joe to the other four agents. Those four were beginning to spread out, left and right. Griffin's nerves were about to lift off.

  “Mr. Deluca, you've been renting cars. Each time using a different created identity,” agent Joe said.

  Joe began to take small steps toward Griffin now. His expression becoming more serious. More grim.

  Griffin could feel Gabriel beginning to take over his body. His flesh began to goose step and his hair prickled from the front of his head to the back. Joe, the agent, was now on the other side of a circular rack, over stuffed with women's work out tops. It was a riot of color.

  “Mr. DeLuca, are you aware a Homeland Security agent was killed in close proximity to you two evenings ago?” Joe asked.

  “Oh?” Griffin thought over to Gabriel.

  Gabriel didn't respond to Griffin. Griffin looked into Joe's eyes. It was easy, being four feet away. Then, Gabriel took over Griffin with a rush. The words came out as a growling whisper.

  “I am not here to answer your questions, Mr. Diclaro. It is only through the mercy of my host you will awaken,” Gabriel said through Griffin.

  Griffin didn't recognize his own voice at first. He fought to turn his head to see who was speaking and realized he couldn't and it was him doing the threatening.

  “Excuse me?” Joe asked squinting his eyes against Griffin's hostile defiance.

  There was a blinding crackle of light followed by the bitter smell of ozone. Griffin blinked his eyes several times but the micro-bolts remained etched into his vision. More blinks and a couple steps backward revealed Griffin had control of his body. He looked down at his own body to see where he’d been injured. What had the agent used on him. Griffin looked back up at the agent to find Joseph Diclaro frozen in place. Looking from Joe Diclaro to the other four agents, Griffin saw they were in a similar state - frozen in place. Each had their eyes closed, presumably flinching against the oncoming micro-bolts. And then it dawned on Griffin what must have taken place. Gabriel.

  “How long before they recover?” Griffin asked.

  “Minutes to less than an hour,” Gabriel responded, giving no indication to the vagueness.

  “They will recover?” Griffin asked.

  “Yes,” was all Gabriel added.

  Griffin turned for Itishree and found her a few paces away holding five shoe boxes and both their traveling bags slung over her shoulders. She was dwarfed by her burden.

  “What were you about to do?” asked Griffin.

  “Buying these shoes. I like these and I assumed you liked yours,” Itishree said grinning.

  Griffin looked back at the unmoving Joe Diclaro and government thugs and back at Itishree.

  “Okay, let's buy them. But, be quick,” Griffin said taking most of the boxes from Itishree.

  Griffin noticed there were no other affected people in the store and most customers had yet to notice the five frozen humans. Itishree and Griffin hurried through the checkout and after Griffin checked the parking lot, made their escape.

  Itishree asked in the car, “Who were those men?”

  “Homeland Security agents.”

  “Did Mr. Angelpants kill them?” Itishree asked.

  “No. No, Gabriel must have been reading my thoughts before he took over and zapped them. I was thinking of how I could get out of that jam without answering his questions and not killing them,” Griffin said.

  He was checking his mirrors often to see if they were being followed. They weren't. Or, at least as well as Griffin knew. He didn't have training for such work.

  Griffin continued, “And then, there was a magnificent spark. Did you see it?”

  “Yes, how could I miss it?” Itishree asked. “It lit up the entire women's active wear department.”

  “I need to turn in this car and rent another,” Griffin said to no one. “Then we'll duck into someplace for a bite. I'm starving.”

  Itishree nodded and grinned sliding on a new pair of sneakers. Cross trainers.

  “Oh those are nice,” Griffin peened.

  Forty two minutes later, Joe Diclaro and his four better dressed escorts pulled their weapons in unison. Unfortunately, Joe's weapon was drawn square in the face of his supervisor, Director Arthur Graves. Only years of repetitive training kept Joe from discharging his weapon in Arthur's face.

  The other agents weren't as composed. All four of their handguns were drawn and cocked before anyone could blink. Joe could hear the agents twirl about looking for Mr. DeLuca and judge their immediate situation. No rounds were fired. Thank God. One moment he was about to threaten one Griffin DeLuca, and the next his boss was standing in front of him.

  “Wait, there was a flash. A strange flash,” Joe said in the direction of his guard unit.

  They nodded, wiping away the flash burns from their vision. Then, Joe noticed it too, and blinked his eyes rapidly and rubbing them after putting away his firearm.

  “Tell me what happened,” Arthur said finally.

  Joe spun around taking in the environment. The store was empty. All of the overhead lights had been shut off. He could see uniformed officers outside the entrance. Joe leaned against the nearest clothing rack and dropped his head to his hands.

  “How long have I been standing here?” Joe asked to the floor.

  Grace and Mercy

  Griffin hurried to replace his cell with yet another from the third carrier in as many days. He chuckled as the kiosk clerk repeated his name as 'Sherman McDoogle'. Obviously Gabriel was growing a sense of humor. However, his passenger said nothing. He removed the battery and drove to another carrier's retail store and dropped the phone in trash receptacle nearby. Hoping to throw off Homeland for a few moments longer. Itishree did the same exercise and Gabriel did his voodoo on her ID too. She was 'Abigail Swanson' for the duration of her cell contract.

  Turning on the new phone Griffin located the nearest rental car companies, then called a cab.

  “This is going to be tricky,” said Griffin. “I need to dump this car and rent another.”

  “Why is it going to be tricky?” Itishree asked.

  “If I were Joe G-Man Diclaro, I would have someone watching every rental agency in fifty miles,” Griffin replied.

  Griffin parked the car in a retail lot he know would be near capacity and waited.

  A few minutes later a yellow cab began circling the lot. Griffin jumped out and got the driver's attention, waving him over. The cab parked in the row behind Griffin, trunk to trunk with the rental.

  The movement of shopping bags took a few more minutes. Griffin was amazed at how much stuff they had purchased in a few hours. He went back to the rental for the last time and put the keys under the driver's side visor and shut the door, ensuring the car was unlocked.

  Thirty minutes later found Itishree and Griffin in the latest rental driving to another retail location closer to the city. Griffin wanted to keep them moving and in a wide area. He didn't have current intel on the strength and number of agents looking for him. And, Gabriel wasn't actively helping. Well, not that he knew.

  “Tonight we should stay together in a hotel. I don't want us separated,” Griffin blu
rted out suddenly. He didn't know of another way of bringing up the subject.

  “You mean together, as in sleep in the same bed?” Itishree asked.

  “No. We can have separate beds,” Griffin replied.

  Itishree only looked at him, blankly.

  “Where would you like to stay?” Griffin added.

  “Some place nice, Griffin,” she said, with a smile.

  “All right, some place nice. Yes ma’am,” Griffin said. He really loved her accent.

  “Griffin, I will need to instruct you and Itishree on many things tonight, before we leave in the morning,” Gabriel thought into Griffin's mind.

  “How much time will you need?” Griffin asked silently.

  “An hour. You must both be consecrated before me,” Gabriel thought to Griffin.

  “Gabriel says our instruction begins tonight,” he said to Itishree.

  “Did he mention what kind of instruction?” Itishree asked.

  “Many things, he said,” Griffin replied. Hoping the prodding would force the Archangel to reveal more, Griffin was left empty handed. Gabriel said nothing further on the subject. Griffin scowled under the scrutiny of the divine presence.

  Joe sat at his desk. The embarrassment waned somewhat but stung just the same. How had DeLuca been able to paralyze him and his men? His boss, Arthur Graves, had told him he was motionless with his eyes closed. He had had paramedics check the vitals of him and his men while they stood there like statute. Their pulse and breathing was steady and strong. Not deep and long as in sleep. One paramedic had commented it were like they were meditating on their feet.

  Joe felt no passage of time or recalled any auditory, visual or other sensory stimulus beyond the freak flash of light. He had closed his eyes against the blinding lightning and went to draw his weapon. Opening his eyes, Joe found his boss looking down the barrel of his service automatic. That act may impact his Christmas bonus. Joe had a moment's relief from the shame and embarrassment. One brief moment.

  Joe finished the administrative side of his field report and filed it into Homeland's system. The report would go to his supervisor to approve. Without further comment, Arthur would send it onto Washington. Joe imagined the hundreds of eyes waiting to see this report. He exhaled deeply and made a mental note to slug off the funk and take each day above ground with a smile.