by Greg Ballan
"The speaker will see you now, Senator."
McMahon nodded to the shapely receptionist and made his way into the plush office. Andrew Collins was thumbing through the latest house bill with two aides. Collins looked up and the senator nodded, indicating he had information.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut this short, gentlemen. Bottom line, we didn't get any help from them during the election and I nearly lost my majority. If they expect me to play ball now it's going to take more than the wooing of a few lobbyists. Call Mr. Flint at DuPont and tell him if he doesn't sweeten the pot this initiative will wind up in some backdoor committee until the end of time."
McMahon waited impatiently as Collins wrapped up his business. Finally the two aides gathered their papers and headed back to the House chambers to deliver his ultimatum. The large office door closed and Collins took his seat behind his antique mahogany desk.
"Paul you have the look of a man whose dog just got run over."
The senator placed two binders on Collins' desk. He sat on the heavily cushioned chair opposite the speaker. "The dossier on Erik Knight and some research on 'Father Lazarus'."
Collins picked up a file. "Father? You can't be serious. A low level bloodsucker for hire was once a human priest?"
McMahon nodded. "We didn't get a complete file, but we were able to trace down enough to know Lazarus was a priest in Italy a few hundred years ago. He was extremely fanatical and Old Testament. He didn't play church politics and was quite incorruptible."
Collins poured himself a drink from the crystal decanter on his desk and then poured one for his associate. McMahon nodded and drained his glass in one gulp. He exhaled as the liquor burned his gut.
"The good Father got on the wrong side of a few powerful bishops and they hatched a plot to defrock him. I couldn't get all of the details but it seems Lazarus was booted out for fathering several children out of wedlock. Five women gave sworn testimony and the church had little choice but to send him packing."
Collins took a sip from his glass considering this new revelation. "Church politics," he laughed. "It appears our foes at the holy city are just as morally bankrupt as any other organization."
McMahon nodded and continued. "Lazarus dove into the bottle pretty hard and wound up in some seedy tavern that catered to more than human clientele. I couldn't find all the details but he was turned that evening and supposedly lost most of his sanity trying to cope with his eternal damnation."
"What else?"
"As far as Lazarus, that's all we found, but Lazarus was dusted after he delivered the package and is off the board." McMahon looked worried. "Is there any truth to what that demon said? Did we just turn up the heat on a holy war between Heaven and Hell?"
"Yeah, Paul, it appears we did. But here's what I don't get. We get our orders from higher up on the less-than-pious side of the fence. Those forces knew what pilfering that little trinket was going to do. They had to know what would be unleashed. So why did Nicadaemus act so shocked? Ultimately our reporting chain filters up the same path. I think somebody higher on the food chain is breaking protocol and doing things on their own against the wishes of both darkness and light. Let's be candid for a minute. I'm happy with the status quo. I don't want to see total evil here because I'm not in the mood to have a Hell on Earth but at the same time I don't want another Garden of Eden either. I like the managed chaos of both sides fighting to the point where we're left to our dithers and can dabble ethereally as we please or don't please. I don't want either side gaining absolute hold over this realm, that doesn't serve our objectives in Washington or any other human center of power."
McMahon nodded in agreement. "If someone in our chain is going rogue there'll be Hell to pay, literally."
Andrew Collins grinned. "Our little trinket is stashed in the Vault. Three hundred feet down in a lead and depleted uranium lined bunker covered with twenty feet of steel rebar reinforced concrete. Unless God himself or an Archangel decides to come get it, that relic isn't going anywhere. As long as the shroud of darkness covers it, no one short of a high ranking power will know where it is. Fortunately for us mere mortals, the higher powers seem reluctant to do battle directly. Nor do they seem to want to get involved in the struggles of one tiny planet when the whole universe is out there for them to wage war over." Collins picked up the file on Erik knight and leafed through it quickly. He looked over at McMahon and frowned. "What about this guy? Is there any truth to all the rumors and tales about him?"
"I read the report by Special Agent Phil Penn after the Hopedale Mountain Incident. It raises a lot of questions on top of the reality we've been dealing with. Knight is part alien. The result of a genetic experiment put into place by a species that fought a battle here some ten thousand years ago. Knight is part Esper Soldier, an inhuman juggernaut capable of some amazing feats of strength and energy manipulation." The senator paused. "But it gets even better. Do you remember the destruction of Area 51? Remember all the freak weather patterns that were recorded in the area?"
Collins nodded. "Yeah, the electrical storms were cataclysmic and supposedly wiped out the surface of the base."
McMahon shook his head in disagreement. "No. Knight engaged in an all-out war against an invading force in that desert. In his alien form he generated enough power to level some massive alien war machines as well as generate two F-5 tornados. I heard stories that he also sent a blast of power into orbit crippling an alien battle cruiser."
Collins' jaw dropped, his face paled. "Why didn't we know about this?"
"Because at the time we were doing our best to cover our trail, the president sent Special Agent Knight to root out the underground operations in the federal government. It was the president's play to give the forces of Light an advantage in the conflict by having a non-ethereal player with inhuman power tilt the balance much as were doing now. In fact, you might say the forces of Light having unleashed Agent Knight brought about this turn of events and escalated the conflict."
McMahon shook his head. "I don't think the president is involved. He doesn't have the mark of a player. Maybe his actions inadvertently impacted the bigger game, but the president is simply a puppet to the human power brokers in Washington and the corporate lobbyists. He doesn't have any real clout in the larger game. He's a one or two term figurehead."
Collins considered the point and nodded in agreement. "Well said. The irony however won't go unnoticed … a noble human act to clean up a corrupt government leads to an all out holy war." The House speaker exhaled, "So is Knight as powerful as the stories claim? And what motivated him to get involved in that kind of conflict? CIA coolers are usually 'Lone Wolf' personas content to work in the shadows."
"They abducted his pregnant wife with the intention of dissecting their child."
Collins nearly choked. "Are you serious? Aliens were really abducting people! Holy shit! That's extraordinary and terrifying all in one."
"Let me rephrase: We abducted his pregnant wife so we could study the child and at the same time we provoked an alien species to war." The senator paused while Collins paled. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "Knight and the alien species called Observers arrived at Area 51 at the same time. Knight was there for his bride and the Observers were coming to free a captive. The aliens were kicking our ass but good and the surface of the Groom Lake facility was leveled. When it looked like we were about to get the final kiss of death, Knight literally dropped out of the sky and engaged the entire alien force by himself." Senator McMahon leaned forward intently to emphasize his next words. "From what I was told, Special Agent Erik Knight literally pummeled through fifty feet of solid bedrock with his bare hands … one titanic blow that registered on seismographs as far away as Anchorage, Alaska."
"Come on!" Collins chided. "That has to be bullshit! Nothing and no one has that kind of raw power—not even a mid-level ethereal being."
McMahon shrugged. "I'm just relaying the information as it was told to me. Let me add that Nicadaemus wa
s very put out at the thought of Agent Knight becoming involved in ethereal affairs. The demon believed Knight could have a direct impact on the final outcome of whatever schemes are being played." The senator leaned back, "If I may be so bold to offer a hypothesis."
Collins refilled the senator's empty glass. "Please."
McMahon nodded. "Someone on our side broke protocol by establishing this splinter world government. We've been playing our part assuming that we're following the orders from our genuine superiors. But what if we're not? What if we're the puppets being strung along by a shadow puppet master? How long will it be before the real forces of power that control the universe step in and take matters into their own hands? If someone is pulling the pointed tail of our side, how long until he decides to take matters into his own hand and by doing so will that unleash the big guns or Big Gun on the other side?"
"You're talking a full-fledged Armageddon class event, Paul. You think some grade B player is looking to make an upward move by unleashing Earth's Armageddon early?"
McMahon shook his head. "I dunno. We're human. We can't contemplate what goes through the minds of an ethereal. Their ambitions and motives are unknown to us. Like you said, the stakes the higher powers play for are cosmic in scale. We're like some warring factions of micro bacteria to them. We only have a small glimpse into that realm. Somebody … something is looking to trigger the ultimate war here on this planet. I suggest we get all the information we can about the little piece of holy real estate we're hiding in the Vault. We may be sitting on something more volatile than a nuclear bomb."
Collins handed his associate a Scotch. McMahon nodded and took a deep swig, savoring the burning sensation as the amber liquid singed his palette. "If we got hoodwinked into taking that trinket without the approval of our superiors, we're gonna need one million block sunscreen. Problem is I can't break ranks and ask higher up. We get our orders and its only one way communication. We're going to have to hope and pray that somebody in our power structure knows what's going on and is taking steps to solve the problem."
"Or accept the fact that our side just instigated the end of the world as we know it." McMahon shook his head. "I don't think praying will do us all that much good considering our allies but I'm certainly not beyond a few dark rituals to see who on our side of the playing field is paying attention to the events unfolding on this planet."
Collins laughed despite the situation's severity. "Duly noted. I'll poke around the beltway and see if anyone's trying to advance beyond their means. If it's a local occurrence, Nicadaemus will most likely be the ethereal handing out the punishment. If it's something larger, we're going to have some pretty heavy hitters paying us a call. The higher powers on both sides have to decide if this theft is worth turning a two thousand-year-old skirmish into an all out war."
McMahon frowned. "Nick was ready to take my head off! He was extremely agitated that we liberated that trinket. I smell a rat somewhere, Mr. Speaker, we better hope this mess cleans itself up."
Collins nodded. "An ethereal will have to come claim the prize. It's one thing to give an order through the unseen channels of communication, but if this relic is as valuable and crucial as we believe, the being that wants it will most likely come to claim it personally. That's when we'll know who's pulling the strings. The next time I'm contacted I'll pass the word along. For now let's keep it buried in the Vault and hope it's as well concealed as we believe."
Chapter 3. Holy Secrets
Vatican City, Rome
"Martin, let's put this off until later in the afternoon. We just landed…" Erik did the mental math. "It's eight in the morning here, really two in the morning for you and me." He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You look exhausted, Counselor. You could use the sleep and I could use the time to meditate and clear my head. Going into this fuzzy won't do either of us any good."
"Mr. Denton, Mr. Knight?" A voice inquired behind them.
Erik spun. "Who's asking?" His voice was more forceful than he'd intended and the small man flinched.
"I'm Brother Anderson. I was told to take you directly to the Vatican suite so you could both rest and freshen up."
Martin jumped in, "Please forgive my cranky young friend. We're both a bit on edge after being cooped up in a flying aluminum tube for eight hours."
The skittish man smiled and nodded pointing toward the large glass doors leading out of Leonardo Da Vinci Airport. "I have a car waiting to take you to Vatican City."
"Excellent." Denton reached for his suitcase.
Erik grabbed his hand. "I've got it, Martin." He hefted the suitcase easily in his left arm while he slung his duffel bag over his right shoulder.
◆◆◆
Martin was in a deep sleep as Erik stared out from the balcony overlooking the holy city. The spectacle was awe inspiring. Erik had a deep appreciation for the architecture and elegant design of the buildings. The reinstated CIA cooler stretched his legs and threw several combinations of punches in an attempt to unwind. Erik launched a high side thrust kick followed up by a spinning back kick, imagining an opponent in front of him. The agent paused and performed a perfect side split. He held the position and executed several arm blocks and strikes. In an amazing display of muscle control he tipped forward, lifted his prone legs and body off the ground and executed a perfect handstand. He froze in mid air for several seconds then executed twenty inverted shoulder presses while maintaining a perfect line with his legs and torso.
Erik contracted and then flexed his powerful arms; iron hard triceps exploded propelling him up several feet. He executed a perfect back somersault with a twist landing in a fighting stance, his arms up in a defensive guard.
A faint tingling sensation traveled through the back of his head and down his spine. Someone was watching him. "Thank you Esper sixth sense." Erik did some stretching, moving his torso and head in several directions as his telescopic vision searched for the unwelcome spy. There! In the building directly opposite on the roof, a man with a spotting scope carefully watched him. Erik continued to make a show of stretching and loosening as he studied his observer. It's the same weasel that picked us up at the airport. I knew there was something about that guy. He's no meek 'Brother'. He's a Vatican spy.
"I'll bet our whole suite is wired too. I'll deal with that and the nosey little man later on." He entered the spacious living room, still brooding in dark thought. The detective drew the long curtains and closed each set of window blinds. He lay down on the long couch and forced his body to sleep for a few hours knowing the next few days would be more than challenging. Focus on the case and on Martin. Don't let my internal issues cloud my judgment. Remember, I'm here for Martin.
◆◆◆
"Erik, we have company."
The detective opened his eyes. Much to his surprise he'd fallen into a deep, restful sleep. He blinked a few times, shook off the cobwebs, and glanced at his watch. Four hours had passed. Erik got up as the knocking on the door continued.
"Shall I invite our guests in?" Denton's hand hovered over the locked doorknob.
"Sure."
Denton peered through the peephole. "They look like police." Martin opened the door and two police officers introduced themselves. Each officer was a stark contrast to the other. One was a large, corpulent man of Greek ancestry while his thinner partner seemed to be of Scandinavian decent.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen." The large Greek began in a jubilant tone. "I'm sorry to disturb you so soon after your arrival but Bishop O'Malley is eager to make your acquaintance." The officer pointed toward his partner. "We've been assigned the duty of being your official escorts during your stay in the Holy City."
Martin smiled while Erik looked the men over suspiciously. The detective knew the Vatican had assigned them babysitters.
"I'm Martin Denton, CIA bureau chief and my stone-faced companion is Special Agent Erik Knight."
Erik nodded to the men. "Give us a few minutes to freshen up and we'll be on our way." He ge
stured toward Martin, and both men walked into the bedroom area of their suite. Erik closed the door and led Martin into the marble-laden bathroom. The detective turned on both faucets and the shower. Within seconds the mirror steamed over. Erik took his index finger and wrote on the film of moisture.
WE'RE BUGGED. EYES ON US. BUILDING ACROSS STREET!
The detective took a moment to wash his face and body while Martin did a quick check of the bathroom. The elder operative pointed toward a light fixture in the corner. A small black circle was visible inside the light cover. Erik nodded as he ran a brush through his hair and while gargling with mouthwash. Martin wrote on the large mirror.
WHY?
Erik shrugged his shoulders and took his towel, carefully wiping away the words they'd written on the mirror. Denton shook his head genuinely puzzled. Erik put on a fresh jersey and they headed back toward the living room area and their two escorts.
"Are you refreshed?" The slender officer asked.
"Much better, thank you," Erik buckled the belt that housed his Sentient Staff feeling somewhat better having his weapon on standby. The fact that he felt better armed disturbed him. Something was wrong; the detective felt it in his gut. He knew Martin felt it as well. His friend was doing his best to appear calm but Erik could sense his unease. The elder operative didn't need any more mystery or stress. He was here to investigate his son's murder. The bureaucracy should be rolling out the red carpet for him and bending over backward offering apologies and condolences instead of two uniformed babysitters.
"Let's not keep our hosts waiting any longer. We're here for a purpose. The sooner we get to it, the sooner we can get out of here." Erik headed toward the door, not bothering to wait for the other men. The two officers moved quickly to catch up.