by L. Todd Wood
The man was startled for a second and held up his hands to catch his breath and analyze his situation. Rafe could see the fear in his eyes. Then recognition spread over his face and after a few seconds, spoke, “Easy, Rafe! No need for violence. Your daughter is safe, I assure you.” He started to lower his hands and smiled.
“Keep your hands up where I can see them you piece of crap! That’s not what I asked! I said where is she?”
“I can lead you to her. Just let me take you. Put down the gun okay?”
“She’s close by?”
“Yes,” answered Bowker affirmatively.
“Then do it now!”
“Okay, okay! Follow me.” Bowker lowered his hands and straightened his jacket. Rafe allowed him to move away from the wall and towards the doorway.
“I will, very closely!” said Rafe. They slowly walked up the stairs to the stage area. Rafe scanned the auditorium for anyone who could see them. He saw nothing. The bathroom door slammed behind them. He kept the rod pushed into Bowker’s back. Upon arriving on the platform, Bowker started running, screaming for help. I guess I didn’t fool him with the fake weapon, thought Rafe and he let him go. Rafe didn’t see Bowker’s security detail behind him. And, he didn’t see the taser. The electric charge raced through his body and he fell to the ground, convulsing. One of the men put his boot on Rafe’s face. Spittle oozed from his mouth as Rafe lost control of his body. Soon he was handcuffed and lay prostrate on the floor. The police arrived ten minutes later. Rafe didn’t care. All he could think about was Clare.
Chapter Twenty-Four
He was released into a holding cell in downtown New York City. It was not a nice place. Perhaps it was intended not to be a nice place in order to preclude someone taking a chance on coming back; Rafe didn’t know. He did know he wanted out and never wanted to be here again, but, that was beside the point. The point was Clare. Locked up in here, he couldn’t find her. He had to find a way out.
Thankfully, he was alone in his cell, which he thought was unusual. The other cells he could see were crowded. There were lots of gangsters and other general thugs. He could tell by all of the tattoos covering their bodies.
Strange, he thought. Why do I get special treatment? I guess I'll find out soon enough. Rafe sat down on the metal bench to the rear of the small room. The cage he was in held little else beside himself, just a small toilet. The bench was cold and there was no blanket. He waited for a couple hours and had plenty of time to think. All he thought about was Clare and how being inside here was failing her. The hours drifted on and his hopelessness grew. He eventually stretched out on the hard bench and dozed off, waking up some time later. I need to get out of here! he said to himself when he realized where he was. Then finally, there was some movement out in the hallway by the entrance to the cell block. He heard the door open and soon, footsteps echoed though the cellblock, walking his way. Rafe stood to meet whoever was coming to see him. A few seconds later, David Wharton walked in front of the bars, and Rafe was truly surprised. “What are you doing here, David?”
“I could ask you the same, Rafe. But I won’t. Because I know what you are doing here. As your friend, I’m here to help.”
“I don’t understand. How can you help me?”
“I can get you out of here, for starters!”
“How could you do that?”
Wharton held up a key. “With this,” he said.
“I don’t understand. How did you get that and how did you get in here?”
“Now let’s have a little conversation, Rafe. I think you know who sent me. He wants to meet with you. However, we need to have an understanding first. I’ll take you to him, but I don’t want any funny business, okay? Let’s just keep this nice and peaceful, and we’ll all get along fine.”
The reality of the situation slowly dawned on Rafe. “So you are one of the visitors also?” he asked dumbfounded.
“Yes, of course. I’ve been involved with them for years. We are making quite a difference, don’t you think? Most of my senior academic friends are involved as well. Our work is never done.”
“Making a difference in what? Involved in what?”
“I think you know what we are up to, Rafe. You've noticed what's going on around here. But I’m not going to discuss that with you. I’ll let him do that. So do we have a deal? Are you going to be a good boy for me? I really don’t want any problems.”
Rafe thought for a moment and then spoke. “I’ll agree to your terms.”
“Good. I thought you might. Your daughter I’m sure will appreciate that. You do want to see her again, don’t you?”
Rafe grabbed the bars with both hands in fury. “If I could break your fucking neck right now I would!” he threatened.
“Aaah, but we have an agreement, don’t we? So you won’t.”
“I won’t right now. It seems I was wrong about you.”
“I guess that's good enough for me. Don’t feel bad, Rafe. We all have our reasons for what we do.” Wharton put the key in the cell door and opened it wide. He stood back so Rafe could exit then walked somewhat behind him as they left the cell block and entered the guard room. The policeman waiting for them put handcuffs on Rafe and led him out onto a loading dock, where he was put in a police van. Before the door closed, Wharton called out to him. “This is where I say good-bye Rafe. Have a good meeting! He’s looking forward to spending time with you!” Rafe heard Wharton laughing as the door to the vehicle was slammed shut. He heard and felt the cop get in the front of the van and start the engine. It roared to life and soon they were headed out into New York City. He could not see where they were going, but they drove for a good forty-five minutes, stopping and starting frequently as the traffic was heavy. Finally the vehicle stopped for good and the engine was shut down. The rear doors were opened, and he was told to step out of the van. Rafe did as he was instructed.
He hopped down out of the vehicle and onto the pavement, the sunlight stinging his eyes temporarily. Rafe found himself wishing he had some sunglasses and immediately recognized where he was. He was outside the construction zone of the Second Avenue Subway, near where he had been the morning before. He guessed he was somewhere around 86th Street. “Follow me and no trouble or you go back. Do you understand?” said the cop.
“Yeah, I got it,” responded Rafe dryly. The policeman grabbed his arm and led him through the entrance in the fence and towards a construction elevator, which had been installed temporarily to reach the subterranean work area below. The security guards milling around eyed Rafe suspiciously
“I’ve been instructed to take you only so far. The rest you will have to figure out on your own, capiche?” the cop said.
“I’ll do as you say, boss,” Rafe replied with an angry smirk.
“A wise guy, huh?” The cop said nothing else but accompanied him in the elevator, shut the metal door, and hit the button on the control panel to start down. Thirty seconds later, the elevator car stopped with a bang. The policeman swung the gate open and pointed towards a dark tunnel to the south with a small light visible at the far end. “Go that way,” he said. “You’ll find what you are looking for. There is nothing else I can help you with.”
“Okay, thanks for the ride,” Rafe quipped and held his hands up. “What about these?"
“Oh yeah.” The cop took out his key and removed the handcuffs. "No hard feelings, huh?" the cop added. Rafe shrugged his shoulders and stepped away from the elevator; the cop swung the door shut then pressed the button to engage the motor. The elevator quickly began moving to the street level above. Rafe was left alone in the darkness. Suddenly he felt quite alone. And there was something else; he felt fear.
He stood there for a couple minutes, allowing his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Slowly shapes in the distance became clear to him. There were large pieces of drilling equipment and electrical generators to one side and piles of train track on the other. Pallets and boxes of other equipment and materials were laid out as far as h
e could see down the freshly dug tunnel. Once his eyes were accustomed to the dark, Rafe started walking.
The ground was somewhat uneven so he had to be careful. Although there was the small light down the newly excavated tunnel off the main track area, there was not enough visibility for him to make out where he was going. He pulled out his phone and turned it on to use as a flashlight. The small penlight beam pierced the darkness. It was enough. Soon he was at the entrance of the small passageway. He hesitated for a moment. Then he entered. Thirty seconds later, he stood outside an opening dug into the side of the tunnel. It seemed to lead to another small passageway and then to a final opening. That must be the temple, Rafe surmised. A small, red light flickered inside the space beyond, resembling a candle flame inside a tent. The deep red and orange light danced around the walls outside the tunnel entrance where Rafe stood. He noticed he suddenly felt cold and alone and scared. Fearing for his own personal safety for the first time in a long time, Rafe thought of his daughter, took a deep breath, and kept walking.
Chapter Twenty-Five
As Rafe neared the entrance to the temple, apprehension welled up inside him. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. He stopped walking. Why am I feeling this way? Am I afraid I will find out the truth of what has happened to Clare? What if she is gone? What if they killed her? He could taste the fear but soon started walking again slowly, not sure if he wanted to enter or not. And he felt cold, very cold and completely vulnerable. Rafe started shivering. He neared the entrance to the Mythraim, hesitated, and then turned to face the chamber carved into the earth.
The temple was built similar to all of the others he had seen in the last few weeks. There was the same table and the same bench facing each side of the elongated space. The roof was curved into an arch. At the far end of the temple stood an altar with the now familiar image of the soldier slaying the bull with a spear while riding him. But Rafe was not looking at how the temple was constructed or the now familiar accoutrements. Rafe was staring into the face of the man from the market he had seen weeks before in Barcelona and whom he had seen kidnapping Cecilia.
“Hello, Rafe,” said the man happily. He was very well dressed and elegant, seemed to be about sixty with salt-and-pepper hair. He was trim and confident and sported a slight beard. He wore a long, dark, leather jacket. There was a quiet power emanating from him.
Rafe was unable to speak. He should have been raging at this person and pummeling him to the ground with his fists to force him to tell him about Clare. But the only thing Rafe felt was fear and extreme evil. Rafe started to shiver.
“Don’t you want to say hello?” the man said.
Rafe finally was able to get out in a hushed tone, “Who are you?”
The man stared at him for a while and then replied, “You know who I am.” He paused for effect. “Don’t you Rafe?”
“I don’t know…,” Rafe stammered. He was unsure, but he felt as if he knew this person somehow. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Well let me tell you. I’ve been in your dreams, your fears, your horrors. I’ve prodded you to make decisions in a certain way. Yes, you know me.” He paused again. “I’ve been called many things, Iblis, Baphomet, Beelzebub, Mephistopheles. But you would know me as Lucifer.”
Rafe struggled to understand what the man was saying and was at a loss for words. Standing in front of him was just a man, not a god, not a spirit. But Rafe could feel the danger, the evil. The being was who he said he was, and Rafe was even more afraid.
“I don’t understand,” said Rafe softly.
“No, you don’t yet, but you will.”
“Where is my daughter?”
“She is safe, for the time being. You needn’t worry about Clare.” Rafe felt a wave of relief and then fear, for he was not sure he could trust this man or whatever it was.
“What do you want with me?”
“You will know shortly. I want your help in a little project of mine.”
“Why did you have to kill Cecilia?” asked Rafe.
“I’m not dead, I’m here, Rafe,” a familiar female voice said behind him. Turning, he saw Cecilia, or what he thought was Cecilia, standing in the opening to the temple. She looked the same but different, more beautiful but also more dangerous. She smiled seductively. “Nice to see you again. Don’t be scared. It’s still me. I won’t hurt you.” Rafe wasn’t so sure. She leaned against the entranceway in a strikingly sexy, almost glowing pose. Too sexy for that matter, almost evil. Her skin seemed to glow with an unnatural radiance. Her hair flowed around her face although there was no wind. She seemed magical.
“Yes it’s Cecilia, as you know her,” said the man. Rafe turned back to face him. “Her real name is Lilith. She was Adam's first wife! Not that hag, Eve. Adam had great taste don't you think? And yes, she is with me. She has been with me and done my bidding for thousands and thousands of years. I hope you enjoyed your time with her. She’s spectacular! Isn't she? She did her job very well, I think you would agree? Bringing you to me? You should feel very lucky to have made love to a demon.”
Rafe felt as if he were spinning. He felt the world around him disappear. The arched roof of the temple was now open to the stars. Things slowly were becoming clear to him, but his mind wouldn’t accept what he was being told. Finally Rafe gathered enough courage to speak. “My father always did tell me to try and find beauty on the inside as well as on the outside.”
“Ahh, good advice from your father,” said the man. "In fact, all of the people that have been pointing you in my direction recently work for me in one way or another. Whether they know it or not. Did you find what I wanted you to look for?”
“I think so." Rafe paused. "You wanted me to discover why societies fail.”
“Very good, Rafe! I’m proud of you! You get a gold star for that answer! And why do they fail?”
“From corruption and greed. From removing the need for hard work. It seems there are many ways. If a society has nothing to work for, if everything is given to it, then it dies.”
“Very good. You have learned from your little journey, as I had hoped.”
“When can I see Clare?” asked Rafe.
“Yes, I understood your weakness very well, didn’t I? Taking Clare was all I needed to do in order to make you come my way. You can see her when we come to an agreement.”
“About what?”
“Strange as it may seem, I need your help. You do have free will you know.”
“To do what?”
“Again, I’ll get to that in a minute.”
“And if I don’t do as you ask?”
“Then of course your daughter will have to be sacrificed. And, I will make you watch.” Rafe felt his knees go weak, and he reached out to the stone table for support. The limestone felt as cold as ice.
“Don’t worry, baby,” said Cecilia as she put her arms around his waist and kissed his neck. Her hand went slowly to his crotch. Rafe felt her electricity flow through him. "I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.” He tried to ignore her.
“Tell me what you want,” said Rafe determinedly.
“Okay, Rafe, I’ll tell you my request and then you can give me your answer. You see, I don’t like it when societies do well and flourish. They tend to start achieving prosperity; they work hard, build self-confidence, and accomplishing great feats. I like to make things much more interesting.” Lucifer smiled. “So since you humans have started to create civilizations, I have been trying to destroy them. And I’ve worked up a pretty good formula. Works just about every time.”
“And what formula is that?”
“Why it’s very simple, Rafe. I promise them everything they think they want!’’
“That’s it?”
“Yes, it is. Well, it’s not quite that simple. There is a little more work involved, but that is it in a nutshell. You see I am the one who turned the Roman Empire into a corrupt entity. I am the one who helped concentrate power in one individual who was t
reated like a god and doled out favors only to those that were loyal to him. And, I made sure he gave the people just enough to keep them happy, happy enough to stop working. I killed their self-reliance, their freedom of choice. This destroyed the republic and their rule of law. It corrupted the military and weakened their defenses. The barbarians did the rest.”
“That seems so easy.”
“Yes, it is quite easy. You humans are very easy to manipulate. I made sure the Byzantine Empire fell as well, although it took a while longer. And when Russia started to become enlightened and powerful, well that was my coup de grace. You see, I made a similar deal with Lenin. He turned out to be such a wonderful protégé. It was so easy, the Russian people were so ready to be promised everything they’d ever dreamed of. It was a wonderful achievement, don’t you think?”
“I guess for you, yes it was. Although tens of millions of people died in the end and it didn’t last.”
“Well, of course it never lasts. I have to let you people win sometime, don’t I? I have to keep it interesting!”
“So that begs the first question I asked. What do you want me to do for you?”
“Oh, Rafe, isn’t it obvious? I want you to promise the people of your country everything they want. I want to destroy the United States of America. I want you to help me turn her communist. I can’t let America become the fourth Holy Roman Empire. I want you to help me kill it!”
