“Thank you, I’ll be there shortly.”
Paolo stood, “Do you mind if I go back to the room?”
“No. I’ll be fine. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, my mind is taking me someplace. I must be tired.”
“Well, go take a nap. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” Paolo leaned over and kissed her.
Paolo began to walk back to their suite. The late afternoon air was growing chilly. The sun set. As he passed the spot where the deer had stood, two young boys ran past him.
Paolo checked the call log on his new BlackBerry. He quietly walked to his room, haunted by a vision as he lay on the massage table: a mushroom cloud devouring a small town.
Exhausted, Paolo lay on the couch and fell asleep. When he awoke, Sydney was snuggled by his side. They enjoyed a romantic dinner with endless conversation and laughter.
The next morning the limo drove them to the airport. As they passed the airline terminal, Sydney asked, “Where are we going?”
“I have one more surprise for you.” He pointed out her window. “That, my dear, is our personal aircraft for the day. It will take us directly back to Connecticut. My friend Tony lent it to me.”
“Your old plane?”
“Yep.”
“What airport are we going to?”
“Oxford. Two cars will be waiting to take us home.”
“Nice. You’re the best.”
“Why, thank you. By the way, our flight attendant’s name is Jayne. Her husband, Jim, is the captain and the second captain is Danny. They used to work for me when I owned the plane. Jayne used to be my therapist, before she became my flight attendant.”
“Really?”
“Yep.” Paolo changed the subject, not wanting to get into details. “You are going to love this.”
The car drove up to the security gate. The driver pushed a button on the intercom system and spoke. “Two passengers for November Seven Papa Delta.”
The gate swung open, and an orange Volkswagen Beetle with the words “Follow Me” written on the back escorted the limo to the aircraft.
By the stairway stood Jayne and her husband Jim, waiting to greet their passengers. A broad smile on his face, Paolo jumped out before the limo came to a stop, exasperating the driver. Arms outstretched, Paolo hugged first Jayne, then Jim. Paolo was more than a boss; he was a friend whom they loved.
Jayne was an attractive woman in her mid-forties. She had the most charming Australian accent. Paolo loved her like a sister. A retired psychologist, she often had long conversations with Paolo. Her husband Jim, an ex-Secret Service agent in his mid-fifties, was the glue to the husband-and-wife relationship and a pilot of unheralded accomplishment. Paolo trusted him with his life. The other pilot, Danny, was also a retired Secret Service agent; they served as Paolo’s bodyguards when needed.
“Jim, Jayne—God, it’s great to see you.” Paolo’s voice was excited.
“Paolo, you look great,” Jayne said.
“Good to see you, Paolo,” Jim remarked.
“And who is the young lady?” asked Jayne.
“That, Jayne, is Sydney Hill.”
“The Sydney Hill from seven years ago?”
“Yes, the same Sydney Hill.”
“Jim, didn’t I tell you they’d end up together? I just knew you two would. Your eyes betrayed you, Paolo. Whenever you talked about her, your eyes brightened. I remember when we flew you to Italy after Sergio’s dad died, you couldn’t stop talking about her. You’d only known her for…what, a week?” Paolo nodded in affirmation.
“I do believe, Mr. DeLaurentis, you are blushing.” Jim said with a broad smile.
Sydney approached the three. Paolo reached out and took her hand. “Syd, meet Jayne and Jim—two of the best employees I ever had.”
After the introductions, Jim said, “Jayne, why don’t you show Sydney around the plane? And don’t forget to introduce her to Danny.”
“I most certainly will, Captain,” she said with a short salute.
As the two women walked up the stairs, Jim said, “She’s beautiful, Paolo, actually kind of hot.”
“Thanks, she is kind of hot, isn’t she?” he said with a wide smile.
“Paolo, before we go on board…” Jim reached in his pocket, “I have a message from Rami. It came over the airborne fax.”
“Secured?”
“Yes, it came through channel three encrypted.”
Paolo read the note. “Thanks. I’ll give him a call.” After Bill was assassinated, Rami had reactivated Jim and Danny into the Secret Service. Paolo walked up the stairs and moved into the cockpit. Danny was seated in the captain’s seat.
“So he’s letting you fly today. God have mercy on us.” Paolo said, laughing as he patted Danny on the shoulder. “How are you, Danny?”
“I’m fine, how about you, Paolo?”
“Fantastic, thanks for asking. How are Sharon and the girls?”
“Excellent, couldn’t be better. My youngest is finally in college.”
Jim stood behind Paolo and placed his hand on the shoulder of his benefactor.
“Okay, you two, you can talk later. We’ve got to get going.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Paolo said as he saluted Jim.
Paolo walked back into the cabin to find Sydney and Jayne talking as if they’d known each other for a lifetime. Sydney sat, her legs crossed. Her tight-fitting jeans accentuated the curves that had captured Paolo’s eyes those seven years ago. The wide, deep-tan leather seats engulfed the two women. Jayne was telling Sydney about her home in Australia, a story Paolo had heard more than once. He stood between the galley and the cabin, a smile plastered on his face.
“Why are you smiling?” Sydney asked.
“Who better than me? I’m here with the two most gorgeous women in the world.”
“Please, I’m going to vomit,” Jayne said.
“I’m serious, Jayne, you two captivate my heart,” he chuckled.
“Please,” Jayne said with mock annoyance. She stood. “Can I get you a Pepsi?”
“Yep.”
“Sydney, would you like some tea?”
“Yes, thank you. Black, no sugar, please.”
“It will be my pleasure. Paolo, flight time today is just under four hours.”
“Thanks, Jayne.” Paolo sat across from Sydney. “Isn’t she wonderful?” Paolo said with a fondness in his voice.
“Yes, she is. You meant what you said, didn’t you?”
“And what was that?”
“The captivation of your heart.”
“Yes, I did, I’d die for her and Jim….” His voice trailed as the engines spooled up.
“Here are your drinks.”
“Thanks, Jayne, are you going to sit with us?” Paolo asked.
“No, I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Besides, the taskmaster up front gave me all the paperwork to do.”
“Okay. Love you, Jayne.”
“Love you too, Paolo.”
The G-V departed Colorado Springs to make its way across the country. Sydney and Paolo reclined their seats and fell asleep. Paolo awoke startled¾the vision of the small town engulfed in a mushroom cloud entered his mind once again.
CHAPTER 52
PAOLO LOOKED OUT over downtown New Haven. It was early August and the hot humidity of the day caused condensation on his windows. Since their trip in March, Paolo and Sydney had grown apart, due to lack of face time and Paolo’s secrets. He silently cursed the day Bill was assassinated; he had no desire to get so involved in the evilness of man.
His remote viewing of Payne, Duman, Abir, and the Cubans continued to be fruitless. Of course, it didn’t stop the US and Russian governments from pursuing the traitors. Payne and his men were in deep hiding. One thing was certain; both governments knew Payne had two nuclear devices. And they were relying on Paolo to save the day.
Paolo knew that as the detonation time approached, his visions of the horrific event would incr
ease in frequency. He waited. He had the vision at least once a week now, and was being pushed in a direction he didn’t want to go. An external force propelled him into seeing the darkness and evilness of mankind—to what end, he wondered. Paolo was trapped by his gift, haunted by the consequences of man. His journal about the future events that would strike humanity was almost completed. His secrets piled up, and Sydney had no idea of his true paranormal abilities and his true relationship with BOET. He was caught in a lie—a lie to himself as to who and what he was.
“Hi.”
“Hello, stranger.”
Something in Sydney’s voice troubled Paolo’s spirit.
“How about dinner tonight?”
“I can’t. I have to do something with Lisa.”
“Oh,” said Paolo. Sadness overcame him.
“Listen, I have to go. Call me later.”
“Okay, bye.”
Paolo sat at his desk, his silver Waterman pen in hand. An unsettled sensation traversed his body. Something was wrong with Sydney. A change had taken place. Paolo felt hopeless; his heart ached. He realized that keeping his secret from Sydney had created a rift between them, destroying the one true love he had in his life. I’m in love with Sydney. This is not life. Where did we go wrong as a people? He rubbed his right temple as he tried to rid his headache. He took out some paper and began writing an essay:
Our world has changed, our country has changed. We, the people of the land of the free, have lost the essence and the guidance of the forefathers of our great country. The American dream is soon to collapse, because we have lost sight of God and country.
The start of the counterculture revolution was fueled by a war in Vietnam. That war began the era of mass demonstrations, acts of true freedom. The first massive antiwar demonstrations were held in Washington, DC—more than 25,000 young people participated. In the future, that number will be a pittance as the people of our great country will take to the streets in mass protests against greed and selfishness.
It was a turbulent time and a misunderstanding of life. The sixties started the so-called counterculture revolution—a conscious and deliberate view of a world based on the ideology of peace and love. This philosophy, which has been proclaimed throughout the history of time, failed once again.
The young revolutionaries were pitted against the educated elders of the establishment. The caveat: youth of that era would influence all the generations to come, more than any other generation. This will lead to the last eulogy of mankind, a cry of regret and remorse for the missed opportunities of life. Mankind, unable to escape its own selfish desires, turned love into hate and greed. The selfishness of man, the agenda of future politicians, will evoke a world of chaos. The objectivity of man will be lost and overcome by incomplete truths, tiny white lies, and subtle evil.
Their ideology destroyed by the wanton greed of humanity, the societies of the future will be fueled by self-indulgence. Oblivious to the signs, mankind will fall to its knees, screaming for mercy. The foundations of the earth will shake with men’s cries, unheard as they are whisked away by the swirling winds of deceit. The few that will try to save humanity will be mocked by society as the hippie culture of yesterday. The days of moral and social integrity are disappearing through the hourglass of time like a melting Popsicle on a hot summer day.
Don’t be fooled, the subtlety of evil invades the consciousness of all humanity. The human race has begun to play footsie with the devil. And if we continue to ignore the cries of the poor and the innocent, our lives and our world will cease to exist as we know them today.
History will show we are no different from the societies of the past. The good will fade into the sunset. The bad will be swallowed up by the bowels of the earth in the darkness of the night. The winds of Mother Nature will sweep the truth under the clouds of the night sky, hidden from man’s consciousness. Truth cannot be denied, it can only be hidden for a short period of time. The dawn of a new revolution awaits us. The time of truth is upon us this day.
Paolo placed the pen down, took an envelope, and addressed it to the editor of Time magazine. He folded the rough draft of his essay and placed the sealed envelope in his Out box. He went home.
CHAPTER 53
LABOR DAY WEEKEND arrived and for the first time, Paolo didn’t attend the pig roast. At home with a pounding headache, he sat in his study and read the contractual agreement from Time magazine referencing his essay. The piece would appear in the Op-Ed section of the next issue of the popular magazine. His written work pleasantly edited, Paolo smiled and signed the contract.
Once again, the loneliness of the nights began to trouble Paolo. Sydney made excuses not to be with him and he understood she was slipping away. He missed her by his side. Paolo believed his angry outburst and his secrets frightened Sydney—they also frightened him. He felt he had no control over his life and who he was. The old saying is that love is patient, love is kind…but Paolo’s patience began to run thin, and despair overtook his soul.
Paolo talked with Sydney two or three times a day. The calls were like a hot-cold water faucet—on some days, Sydney was warm and he couldn’t get her off the phone; on other days, she was as cold as ice and the conversations were short. Paolo suggested they move in together; Sydney wouldn’t hear of it. When he brought up the idea of marriage, she laughed.
Paolo arrived at his office on the anniversary of September 11. He still felt pangs of guilt that he could do nothing to stop the horrific attack. Hopefully, he could prevent the next. He reviewed the morning’s current gold spot reports, a cup of black coffee on his desk. Rebecca placed a series of manila folders next to it and exited his office.
His cell phone rang. “Hello, Sydney. How are you today?” Paolo’s voice was upbeat.
“Paolo, we have to talk.”
Paolo’s stomach lurched as if he were on a roller coaster. Tentatively he said, “Okay, where do you want to meet?”
“I think it would be better if we talked over the phone.” Sydney’s voice was sullen.
“Alright…what’s the problem?”
“Us.”
“I’m listening,” Paolo sat back and closed his eyes.
“I need some time alone.”
“Oh. Exactly what does that mean?”
“I need time alone,” she repeated, her voice adamant.
“So you need time alone. In other words, you’re saying our relationship is over once again.” There was a long silence. “Sydney, are you there?”
“Yes. Listen, Paolo, I can’t do this. I have to go.”
“But Sydney…”
“Paolo, I’m sorry.”
The phone call ended. Devastated, Paolo took pen in hand and wrote about his sorrow and the love he had for Sydney.
I lie here without you by my side
The sounds of the night echo within my mind
An emptiness surrounds me
I toss and I turn
I toss and I turn
You are not here
Tears trickle down my face
The warmth of your body
Absent from my touch
The loneliness within my heart
When you are not here is like
The abyss of a great ocean
Will the loneliness ever end?
Will I ever have peace?
Will I ever be with you?
CHAPTER 54
PEOPLE IN THE STREETS milled about. It was a normal day. The image was in black and white. A mother and her child walked hand in hand. A slight breeze blew a scrap of paper into the street. The morning air was crisp, a few white clouds moved to the east. A car horn honked as two men ran across the busy intersection. A young woman walked out of Starbucks, a grande cappuccino in her hand. An Asian man opened the door to his vegetable market, while another opened a kiosk that sold sunglasses and cigarettes. The dream turned to vivid color. People walked in slow motion. A bright white flash erupted from a skyscraper. A rushing dark cloud immersed in a funnel
of fire flew into the morning air. A massive wind tore down a bridge that connected the city, while the river below boiled. An immense heat swept through the streets. The scorching temperature incinerated those around him. A mushroom cloud hung over a city destroyed.
On Friday, September 30, Paolo awoke in a cold sweat. He looked at the clock; it was three in the morning. This time the vision was haunting and real. His body acted as if he had witnessed the actual event. Heart racing, frightened, he stood and tried to shake off the cobwebs.
His mind took him to the darkness of the city. He stood between two parks and looked up. The street sign said Adams Street, another sign pointed left to Comerica Park. He was in the city of Detroit. He put his head in his hands and cried.
He immediately went to his library and accessed a hidden wall safe behind the television. He removed a black transmitter that prevented any conversation within his house from being recorded by means of an ultrasound wave that distorted the frequency of human speech. He picked up the secure satellite phone and left a message for Rami:
“The city is Detroit, today is the day. Get there soon. May God have mercy on us all.”
He tried to remote view Payne and the Cubans, with no luck. Twenty minutes later, the satellite phone warbled.
“Hello?”
“Sir,” said a familiar voice.
It was Giacomo. Paolo was stunned. “Glad to hear you’re back to work, Major.”
“Thank you. Reference to your message, he’s on his way. The general will be on site in Detroit with the team in one hour.”
“You’re in Washington?”
“Yes.”
A wave of relief swept over Paolo. “Thank God. Major, have the general call me.”
“Yes, sir. And Dad? I got a presidential promotion. I’m a colonel now.”
“Congratulations, Colonel.” The phone call ended. A tear welled in Paolo’s already-red eyes. Five hours later, at eight o’clock in the morning, his satellite phone warbled again.
“Hello, Rami.” Paolo described the vision again and what he remote viewed.
“We’re here now. The Asian man opened his vegetable market, and we can see the ball park.” The phone went dead.
Messenger From God (The Last Eulogy Series Book 1) Page 24