"By the buzzard's balls," Rusk breathed. "Gotta be a billion dollars in damage."
Manor was silent for a bit. "Probably more. None of those hotels, resorts and casinos will be back in business for six months or a year, at best. Some longer. When you consider lost revenue… . Couple of billion, conservatively."
"One thing's for dadgummed sure," Bright added, "it'll be a long time, before tourists and one hell of a lot of conventions come back to Vegas."
He turned to Rusk. "The damn fools had a chance to clean up their burg. If Metro had just dumped the worst killer-cops… . Unfortunately, casino tycoons like Galocci thought they were untouchable. Their imperious attitude cost 'em dearly."
Subdued, Rusk nodded.
Byrne banked the A-17 away from the severely wounded Mecca of anything-goes entertainment, scanning the city. His attention kept returning to a long, black swath straddling the storied Las Vegas Strip.
The miles-long gouge was dotted with flashing red and blue lights inching into the band of darkness. Emergency vehicles, probably fire trucks and police cruisers, were responding. Maybe ambulances, as well.
God, no fatalities, please, Byrne prayed silently.
The cold figures of pre-flight simulations had determined the probability of injuries was in the "acceptable" range. And no fatalities were projected.
Byrne wasn't so sure. People might panic in dark hotel corridors or elevators trapped between high-rise floors. Some old guy's pacemaker or defibrillator could go belly-up. Wasn't supposed to, according to T-Rex engineers, but… . Engineers had been wrong before.
Pence sensed his crew mate's concerns. "Hope the weapon boffins were right," he said softly.
Several seconds passed as the flight test professionals eyed the results of their unique mission, a precision strike against America's icon of unfettered pleasure.
"Win was right," Pence added. "This time, they killed the wrong guy."
EPILOGUE
"He will wipe away all tears from their eyes,
and there shall be no more death,
nor sorrow, nor crying, nor pain.
All of that is gone forever."
Revelation 21:4
SPIRIT REALM/GATEWAY
"Who's coming through? One of my parents?" I asked, curious.
"No, Erik. It is not their time," replied Knol, my spirit guide. Firm, yet tolerant.
With part of my consciousness, I admired Knol, a massive warrior angel radiating a light blue aura. Dressed in an ankle-length, rough-textured white robe, he towered above me, a strong, powerful presence with angular facial features. A phenomenal teacher, he was instilling the knowledge, instincts and talents necessary to become an effective Protector in my next Earth incarnation.
Knol had been my guide through countless lifetimes, including several as combat soldiers. Although patient and loving, as all spirit guides are, he tended to be more brusque and stern than most. Using the name I had taken in a recent lifetime, rather than my timeless soul name, was a major concession.
I suspected that had something to do with why we were here, standing at The Gateway. Somebody I had known must be crossing over, even now going through an earthly death experience.
Knol had snagged me, while I was studying in the massive library, preparing for what might be an imminent return to Earth. He'd brought me to the Gateway, without explaining why—which was his way. From experience, I knew whatever awaited me would become yet another profound lesson.
I didn't recognize the smattering of newly arriving souls. All were being greeted by their guides and groups of "deceased" family members.
"There's the first," Knol announced, tipping his head. "Do you recognize that entity?"
I didn't. The Earth-figure he'd pointed to was short, narrow-shouldered, thin—but with a pot belly—and wearing a mousy-brown crew cut. Confused and hesitant, he must have crossed over quickly, without warning. Probably didn't realize he was dead.
"This entity was known as Olek Krupa. He's the Las Vegas police officer who shot you to death."
"Really! I only saw him a couple of seconds," I replied, trying to match the unremarkable figure with a fuzzy Earth-memory.
I looked deeper, exploring the soul.
"Why is his spirit so dark? And distorted?"
Krupa's pale energy aura was mottled and misshapen, as if chunks of the soul were stained or missing entirely.
"Negative soul energy," Knol said sadly. "His deep-seated anger and irrational fear led to evil acts, which caused severe damage."
"What 'evil acts' would cause that kind of damage?" I asked. I'd seen shadowed souls of people who had caused sadness and heartache on Earth, but never one with such dark energy.
"He killed several people. Including you, of course."
"But God, the Source, forgives the sin of taking a life, correct?"
"Of course. But this entity enjoyed killing. Even bragged about it. He never felt remorse, and never considered how much pain and distress his killing caused. Not only among his victims and their loved ones, but to those closest to him—his wife, parents and coworkers."
For some reason, I felt sorry for the bumbling, confused soul.
"What will happen to him?"
"Watch," Knol replied.
Soon, a spirit guide and what I sensed was a "departed" family member greeted Krupa's damaged, shadowed soul. Unlike what I had experienced, when I arrived so unexpectedly, there was no crowd of loving, happy grandparents, uncles, friends and West Point classmates.
The guide placed his hands on each of the former police officer's shoulders. Gradually, the aura brightened, although dark, ugly patches and divots remained. Then Krupa was led away.
"Will he go to a Restoration Center?" I asked.
"Not right away," Knol explained. "Krupa's soul regressed to an unusual degree, because his Earth-body repeatedly surrendered to anger and fear.
"Further, this soul has displayed grossly aberrant behavior—especially a tendency for violence—through many lives. It will be confined to the Isolation Chamber for intense energy rehabilitation. If that's successful, he may be moved to a Restoration Center… eventually."
"But he'll meet The Committee of Elders first, right?"
I hadn't particularly enjoyed my session with the Elders. However, I understood its objective—an immediate life review, where every choice I'd made in that latest incarnation was scrutinized in sometimes embarrassing detail.
My body-soul behavior at karmic forks in Erik Steele's life path had been thoroughly examined and probed. Not as if I were on trial and subject to the Elders' judgment, of course. It was a self-assessment exercise to help me understand what I had accomplished, who I had helped, and who I had harmed or hurt in my various relationships.
"Not right away. Maybe never, if the energy-rehabilitation process is unsuccessful," Knol hedged. "As Officer Krupa, this entity was involved in many cruel acts and misdeeds. He repeatedly abused his authority in the law enforcement role.
"Further, he exacerbated the damage to his soul by intentionally lying, displaying a shameless lack of integrity and courage, merely to serve the ego's obsession with bodily survival. Because the community he'd pledged to serve had conferred upon him a position of trust, behavior that violated that compact was recorded in the Book of Life as profound injustices."
Ouch!
Nothing angered God more than deliberate acts of injustice. A central element of training for my future incarnation as a Protector was thoroughly understanding God's complete intolerance for flagrant violations of natural law. Gratuitous violence, thuggery, slavery, forced prostitution, theft of a person's earthly possessions and, of course, intentionally stealing innocent lives infuriated The Source.
This Krupa dude's soul was in serious trouble.
"Ah! The others are arriving!" Knol exclaimed.
Separated by mere minutes, it seemed—although there is no time in the spirit realm—a number of perplexed figures arrived at the Gateway. All were st
ill wearing their earthly forms, and were every bit as awestruck as Krupa. However, their soul energy was even more damaged.
"Those two are the other police officers, who shot you. The tall one, Kale Akaka, fired four rounds into your back. He died a horrible death. That's why his energy is so ravaged.
"Loring Malovic was the other shooter. He fired once."
Akaka's entire face was gone, and Malovic's body image was missing the anterior portion of its cranium.
"Knol, I've never felt animosity toward any of these entities. In fact, I perceive a strange sympathy for them, because they seem to have lost their lives through violence, as well.
"But I'm confused. You and the Elders didn't explain why these officers took my life," I said, pointing to Akaka and Malovic.
"Unless part of my soul's memory was lost, I don't recall doing anything that warranted being shot to death! Did I really plan that karmic fork? Or was it an unfortunate accident of fate, which ultimately condemned these souls, as well?"
Knol gave me a smile that exuded deep, caring warmth. "Very insightful! Your death was not preordained, if that's what you mean. Before you incarnated as Erik, you made a supremely courageous decision. You agreed to put yourself in a dangerous situation at Ho's, knowing you could lose your Earth-life prematurely.
"You agreed to that path, though, because such an act of courage would enable rapid soul development. It was a colossal risk, but making that commitment displayed exceptional soul maturity."
"Maybe not too smart, though," I said ruefully. "I had a lot more living to do!"
Knol laughed lightly, a pleasing, crystalline sound. "Oh, you could have accomplished a great deal more! But the Elders never give us more than we can handle, and they agreed that placing yourself at risk was one way to advance your soul-self considerably.
"Nevertheless," he qualified, "the incident that took your life wasn't just about you. It was an opportunity for those three officers, as well. You had agreed to present yourself to them as a pathway to mutual advancement. Their decisions and actions could have propelled their souls' development, saving them dozens of future returns. But they failed the tests they had chosen, before incarnating."
"When I arrived here, you said they had made a mistake. Isn't that why I was killed? Somebody simply screwed up?"
"Not entirely. Those three—particularly Olek Krupa—committed several deadly errors. They could have simply followed you into the Ho's parking lot. Or politely asked to speak with you off to the side. Instead, they succumbed to irrational, unfounded fear, which led to extremely poor decisions. Fear morphed into gross overreaction and a tragic error that proved fatal for you.
"But it was utterly baseless fear—accentuated by subhuman intellect—that caused Krupa to panic, fire his weapon and kill you. You did nothing that warranted such a radical response. Krupa was irrationally frightened. He undeniably lacked courage.
"The other two officers also had the option of exercising restraint, but they, too, failed the test they had chosen."
"How will those two be handled?" I asked, watching Akaka and Malovic being greeted by what I assumed were guides and deceased family members.
Knol hesitated. "Akaka is virtually a carbon-copy of Krupa. No remorse, and he repeatedly lied and abused a position of trust. He, too, will be treated as a badly damaged soul.
"Officer Malovic is a sad case of almost getting it right, but missing a golden opportunity to progress spiritually. He was remorseful and suffered considerable anguish, after shooting into your dying body. He knew he should never have fired.
"Malovic lost his wife, his confidence and his sense of self-worth. As you've learned, if a human exhibits sincere remorse, the Source is forgiving and inclined to great compassion.
"Unfortunately, Malovic failed two vital tests he'd chosen—challenges of courage and integrity. He succumbed to external, evil pressures, and lied about his actions and those of every other officer involved in your murder.
"If he had gone to the right authorities and told the truth, he would have been justly rewarded. But he didn't. Malovic failed the most important test of that lifetime, then refused to compensate for his failure. Consequently, his soul regressed."
I watched the two shooters being led away. "I understand that they won't be punished, but what karma did they incur?"
"The same as any soul," Knol answered sharply. "Through self-examination, they will ultimately come to acknowledge their shortcomings. All three of those former cops will have to return as victims and suffer the same type of pain they inflicted on others.
"Worse, actually, because they consciously made poor choices, then violated the Source's most inviolable criteria for soul development: Respecting the sanctity of life and promoting justice. These entities contributed to multiple injustices, by blatantly lying to save their own skin. No courage, no integrity. Soul-destroying, bad choices."
"There's no escaping accountability," I said, speaking from experience. "Although we might get away with something on Earth, eventually we must answer for our own screwups. Deception is impossible here, particularly self-deception."
"I'm impressed! How did you manage to acquire such profound wisdom?" my spirit guide smiled, aquamarine eyes sparkling.
I laughed. Knol had shepherded me through painful lessons-learned reviews, after one lifetime as an American Revolutionary War soldier. I had killed several British redcoats, while they slept, then shaded the truth in justifying my actions to Continental Army commanders. Because those officers had bought my story, I'd come to the soul-damaging conclusion that lying was acceptable, if it meant I survived to fight another day.
Oops. Not so fast. The British subsequently captured me, and I was fingered as "the murderer" responsible for killing a witness's comrades. I was tied to a post and summarily executed by firing squad.
When I explained my actions to the Committee of Elders, they didn't buy the shaded version, either. They knew precisely what I'd done, even before I was escorted into their presence.
That was a hard, humbling lesson, but I'd learned an inflexible spiritual truth: Souls might be able to lie and avoid accountability for crimes on Earth, but not in the spirit realm. There was no escaping the truth here. This is where the concept of "truth and justice" was invented and perfected.
"Who's in that next group?" I asked, pointing. I was fairly sure I recognized two of the figures, despite chunks of missing soul. The older entity's ethereal body was the quintessential example of what my trainers called "dissembled energy." The guy was a mess.
"Yes, you know several of those," Knol said matter-of-factly.
Would I ever get used to him always divining my thoughts, before I mind-voiced them? I had a long way to go, before I could hope to match that giant warrior's astounding capabilities!
"The first are Antone Galocci and your Earth-father's nemesis, Sheriff Alex Uriah. Both are severely damaged and will be in isolated, dark places for a very long time," Knol declared.
"They're almost twins, in terms of failed souls. Enamored by gifts of power and wealth, they misused their blessings. Both are guilty of rampant injustice, which caused tremendous harm and pain to thousands.
"Their souls may not be salvageable. Frankly, that's phenomenally disconcerting to many of us. If they had worked together to rid Las Vegas of unbridled corruption, their souls easily could have progressed to deep-blue levels."
Souls' colors were indicative of their evolution. White depicted the youngest, least developed souls. As one advanced in knowledge, integrity, compassion and service, the soul took on shades of pink, yellow, green, blue and, ultimately, violet.
Thanks to my "sacrifice" for those cops, I'd jumped to a mixture of yellow and green. At times, Knol claimed he perceived a trace of blue at my soul's core.
Knol looked past the former Las Vegas Strip baron and his lackey, the sheriff of Clark County, as they were led away by only guides. Surprisingly, those two weren't given an opportunity to greet any deceased loved o
ne!
I had the distinct impression they, indeed, would be denied an opportunity to incarnate for maybe a thousand Earth years. What a shame. Although blessed with astounding worldly gifts, they had wasted them, by succumbing to Sin City's temptations.
I wanted to ask about two horribly burned, blackened body-images, but Knol skipped them to focus on a lone figure lagging behind the other arrivals.
"This entity is why I brought you here. He was known as Captain Michael Greel, a particularly venal Metro police officer, who you never encountered," the giant warrior angel explained. He nodded at a slovenly, porky figure with premature gray hair and a thick midsection. His energy body was almost completely dark and terribly deformed.
"Wow," I whispered. "What could possibly decimate a soul to that degree?"
It was hardly recognizable as soul energy.
"Greel was Metro's head of Homicide," Knol said. "Long ago, his soul fell into a quagmire of unspeakable evil. But he felt virtually no remorse and was devoid of any compassion.
"He literally lived on deception, spouting falsehoods about you and your murder, within minutes of your death. He then orchestrated the cover-up, and assassinated your character for the most vile and corrupt reasons—money and power.
"He personally stole many lives and destroyed countless others through untruths, dissembling and criminal wrongdoing. He was so completely lacking in courage and integrity that he took his own life. The ultimate sin in God's eyes."
I was astounded by the cold tone. Never had I seen Knol so critical of a soul.
"What will happen to him?" I asked meekly.
"Greel is an Atrocity Soul," Knol declared. "These are rare, and always associated with acts of evil so serious that the soul cannot be reclaimed. Yes, special healers work with Atrocities, but the harm and profound pain these entities caused on Earth through habitually cruel lifestyles and actions are so heinous that they will never be allowed to go back."
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