Ralph thumbs a small, glass disc in the center of the steering wheel. The sensor behind it reads his fingerprint & shuts the Ghost Mobile down. He gets out of the car & walks the long, ribbon of concrete curving between two snowfrosted lawns that lead to the prison’s entrance. The large, glass doors part silently when Golden approaches them. He steps through doorway & enters DC’s Metro Central Detention Facility. Two large, beefy guards, one white & the other black, on either side of two metal detecting arches look up and smile.
“Hello, Ralphy-boy,” says the black prison guard. “Merry Christmas to you.”
“Merry Christmas, Bill,” Ralph replies. “Merry Christmas, Stanley.”
“Merry Christmas, Ralph,” Stanley says.
The three men shake hands.
“How are the wives & kids?”
“They’re just fine, Ralph,” Bill says.
“Doing real good,” Stanley answers.
“Excellent!”
“Here comes the old bird now, Ralphy-boy,” Bill says, pointing to an opening door in the far end of the waiting room.
Ralph Golden looks over to see Cardinal Redding, in full regalia, step into the large, harshly-lit rectangular room. He is a big & broad shouldered man of seventy-seven years. The only hair on his round head is in his gray, bushy eyebrows. The Cardinal walks through the aisle between rows of plastic, purple chairs, blessing the few people scattered among them. One side is filled with a half dozen people waiting on the release of prisoners. Seated throughout the other rows of chairs are a score of new arrests, handcuffed to the seats, waiting to be processed into the system. Most of them are Maxists, Golden notes by the unwashed, unkempt state of them. A few of them spit curses at the Cardinal as he blesses them. When they do, Redding gives them a wider smile & an extra blessing.
“Never off the clock, that one,” observes Stanley.
“Married to his job,” Ralph agrees.
Cardinal Redding reaches them. “Gentlemen, a very merry Christmas to you all.”
The three men take turns kissing his ring. “Merry Christmas, your Eminence.”
“Pass my compliments on to the Mayor, officers,” Cardinal Redding says, addressing Stanley & Bill. “Tell him I regret not being able to avail myself of more of his hospitality.”
“He’ll understand,” Bill says. “You’re a busy man.”
“Yes, you are Eminence,” Ralph says. “So if you would, please come along. The clock is ticking. Keep the faith, boys.”
Bill & Stanley give Ralph casual salutes.
“Very well,” says the Cardinal & then pauses to bless the two prison guards before following Golden out.
“Thank you for coming to get me, Ralph.”
“My pleasure, Cardinal,” Ralph says. “I trust you got along fine on the inside.”
“The jumpsuit was the worst thing about the experience,” the Cardinal says.
“Orange just isn’t your color, Eminence.”
“I would say not.”
The walk to the car takes twice as long, as Ralph slows his pace to keep up with the slow moving, older man. On the walk, the Cardinal inquires after the preparation for the night’s Mass. Golden assures him that everything is going according to plan. They arrive at the Ghost Mobile & Ralph opens the passenger side door with exaggerated flourish. “Welcome aboard, Cardinal.”
“She’s a real beauty, Ralph,” Cardinal Redding says, pausing to admire the automobile. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”
“They may yet again, your Eminence,” Ralph says, taking the Cardinal’s arm. “They may yet again.”
Cardinal Redding bends & gets in. Ralph shuts his door, walks around the front and takes his seat behind the wheel. He starts the car with the touch of his thumb & pulls it out of the parking spot. After a few short blocks on G Street, the Ghost Mobile merges into the heavier trafficked Pennsylvania Avenue. The old El Dorado stands out against the smaller, modern automobiles around it, drawing considerable attention from other drivers. The looks are mostly appreciative mixed with an occasional sour expression from those who do not approve of old, gas-guzzling giants on the road.
The speakers on the dashboard suddenly emit an electronic ping.
“What was that?” The Cardinal asks.
Ralph glances up at his rearview mirror briefly. “There is a cop car a little behind us in the right lane. It just scanned us. They’re making sure I have the Patriot Governor installed. You can’t drive in Washington without it, you know. They routinely check out old century beauties like my Ghost Mobile.”
“Your car knows when it’s being scanned?”
“Sure does,” Ralph says.
“And do you have the governor installed?”
“Yes & no, your Eminence,” Ralph says with a small smile under his handlebar moustache. “As far as the cop’s scanner is concerned I do. But no, I don’t really. I’ve got something which mimics its signal.”
“What happens if the officer decides to engage the governor?”
Ralph Golden laughs. “If Mr. Five-O tries it, the signal would be shot back at his car. It would shut him down.”
“Goodness,” says the Cardinal. “Can you shoot rockets out of the headlights too?”
“Not yet, Eminence, but we’re working on it,” says Golden. “Maybe it’ll be included in the next upgrade. Check out the heads up display, though. It’s custom.”
“Give me the heads-up display, Gracie,” Ralph says, speaking to his automobile through his PalmPal. “Set it on a bird’s-eye-view at an inch to a quarter mile scale, if you please.”
The windshield lights up with a ghostly outline of the city’s downtown. The Cardinal sees blue, green & black dots moving along the streets. There is one red dot moving northwest along Pennsylvania Avenue which he figures is Ralph’s car. A quarter inch behind it is a blue dot.
“The blue dots are police cars, I take it.”
“Yes Eminence,” Ralph answers. “The green dots are military vehicles. The blinking ones are ours. The black dots are unmarked cop cars. The rest of the traffic is represented by the brightness of the lines. The darker the line, the heavier the traffic is on the street.”
“Impressive.”
“That isn’t the half of it,” Ralph boasts. “The Ghost Mobile is also hacking into the signal system as we drive, making certain we’re not bothered by red lights.”
The Cardinal whistles appreciatively. “Did the Colonel fix up this car for you?”
“Nah, it was my uncle Tommy & I that done her up,” Ralph says. “My Uncle Tommy, he’s a genius mechanic with a love for sticking it to the man, if you know what I mean.”
“I suppose I might.”
They turn left onto Independence & then right onto First Street. The two men fall silent as they scan the crowds on their left. They drive past the Library of Congress & reach the encampment of Catholics in the park across the street from the Supreme Court building. Most of the faithful are knelt in prayer, reciting the Rosary in tight columns. The monitors, wearing full-length, cross-emblazoned scapulars, stand guard around them. They notice that many of them are looking warily up Maryland Avenue, several shaking their heads. Ralph & Cardinal turn to see what has drawn their attention. They see it immediately, a life-sized Crucifix burning in the street. It’s on the north side of the Supreme Court building, about a quarter of the way up Maryland Avenue. Some thirty or so Maxists dance in a ring around the cross. A dozen others sit in a ring around them, banging away at make-shift drums.
Cardinal Redding shakes his head at the sight. “How did we ever come to this?”
“It’s your fault, Your Eminence,” Ralph Golden says flatly.
The Cardinal’s head snaps to look at Ralph, his eyebrows arch in surprise. “My fault?”
Ralph nods. “Absolutely, it’s your fault. Not yours alone, mind you. I mean all you church leaders, the entire clergy, from the Pope on down.”
“You don’t say?”
“I do, Your Eminence.
I do say so.”
Ralph drives on, confident that the monitors will not take the Maxists’ latest bait & lead their charges into a riot. They will maintain discipline & not abandon their posts. A quick glance at the Cardinal tells Golden that the old man is dangling, rather helplessly, from his bait. He does not know Redding well, only having met him briefly on two other occasions, but Ralph decides that’s no reason to spare him.
“The Church, Eminence, is the world’s first, last & best defense against evil,” Ralph Golden says. “Or rather it is, when it is doing its job & storming the gates of Hell. We’re supposed to be on the offensive, always attacking & marching ever onwards. But thanks to you guys in the clergy, we’re on the defensive, fighting a rear-guard action.”
“How is that our fault, young man?”
“For fifty years after Vatican Two the clergy took their eyes off the ball. Rather than going at the world, you all went at The Church like a horde of Vandals, Cardinal. You ripped out Communion rails, altars & organs & mangled the liturgy every which way. One day it’s a Mariachi Mass, the next day the priest is in a rubber nose & clown face & the day after it’s a Hip-Hop or some dopey, Hippie Mass.”
Cardinal Redding turns to face Ralph. “It’s not fair, Ralph comparing some of the excesses of the post-Vatican II experiments to the pillaging of Vandals.”
“It’s not fair to Vandals, perhaps,” Ralph retorts. “The Vandals may have looted & burned churches, but to their credit, they never touched the liturgy. You however, changed the liturgy again & again, tweaking & twisting it this way & that, re-making & re-shaping it twelve ways to Sunday until you turned The House of God into a tower of Babel. You confused the faithful, outright frightened them in some cases. It’s no surprise they fled the pews in droves because of all that ‘spirit of Vatican 2’ crap. All the while you argued with Rome, challenging The Seat of Peter on central issues like sexuality, abortion & contraceptives. Y’all refused to do your jobs & draw necessary lines in the sand. In the name of charity you refused to defend, enforce or even articulate doctrine. Instead, for fifty years, a clergy too afraid to go up against a hostile press, allowed politicians pushing the culture of death to receive Communion. Too afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings, the Eucharist was given to every Tom, Dick & Sally living loud & proud in all manner of sin. Rather than discipline the mavericks, Pope after Pope allowed priest after priest to run his parish like his own private theocracy. Even more cowardly, heinous child-molesters in collars were shuffled from parish to parish by Bishop after Bishop until, not conscience, but scandal finally forced the clergy’s hand.
“Is it any wonder Cardinal, that The Church’s moral authority has become a joke? Is it any wonder that secularists have our backs against the wall & Crucifixes are burned on the streets? I say it’s no wonder at all.”
“The clergy has made a lot of mistakes, I know,” says Cardinal Redding after a painful pause. “We’ve corrected many of them & we are working on the rest.”
“I know, your Eminence,” Ralph says. “I know. I meant no disrespect. I was just answering your question. We’re glad to have you aboard at last. We the faithful laity, we who never got swept away by all that ‘spirit of Vatican 2’nonsense, we’re thrilled that the last few Popes have finally begun the house cleaning; we’re overjoyed that you & so many others have had their backs. Better late than never, you know.”
The Cardinal nods thoughtfully.
They drive on in silence for a few more minutes more until they reach the US Treasury Building. Ralph parks the car but keeps the engine running. He gets out & walks around the back. Two guards make their way down the steps. Ralph exchanges salutes with them. He opens the passenger side door & helps the old Cardinal out of the Ghost Mobile.
“I sincerely hope that I have not upset you, your Eminence.”
“No, Ralph, you haven’t,” Cardinal Redding replies. “We Cardinals wear the red to show our willingness to shed our blood for the faith. An ego bruising is a trifling in comparison. Besides, there is much truth in what you said.”
“That’s all behind us now, Eminence.”
“Indeed.”
“We will save Christendom.”
“Yes, we will.”
The guards arrive at their side.
“Merry Christmas, gentlemen,” Cardinal Redding says in greeting.
“Merry Christmas,” the two men respond and kiss Redding’s ring.
Ralph shakes hands with the guards. “I’d love to stay & chat, but the clock is ticking. Keep the faith, boys.”
Golden then turns back to the Cardinal, shakes his hand & kisses his ring. “See you soon, Eminence.”
“God bless you, Ralph,” Cardinal Redding says making the sign of the cross.
“Right back at you, Padre,” Ralph says & turns to his car.
Golden sits in the idling automobile until the Cardinal & the guards disappear into the Treasury Building. Once inside, they will escort the Cardinal through the secret tunnel that connects the Treasury Building to the White House. The Colonel is waiting for him at the other end. With his first mission of the night completed, Ralph Golden drives off to the second, the speakers in the Ghost Mobile booming the Gregorian chant, Da Pacem Domine, a favorite of Knights Templar, old & new.
Interstate 8, Arizona
19:18:16
Manuel Morales and Milagros Delatorre turn south off the highway and onto a two lane wide dirt road. They are driving in the delivery truck they intercepted and confiscated some thirty miles west of the dusty access arroyo. The truck is carrying the six cases of mixed liquors and another twenty-four cases of beer donated to the international troops of United Nations Border Base # 5. Their comrades, Jimmy Cormier and the brothers, Dan and Jason Rosa, are also in the back of the truck. On the floor, tied and gagged between them, the original driver lies unconscious. Behind the truck, two Hummer Mark VIIs emblazoned with the US Border Patrol logo stop a little ways into the dirt road. They will stay at the north end of the five mile arroyo, following the progress of Milagros and Manuel through transmitters hidden in the truck’s reflectors. Across the border, two Mexican military Jeeps filled with more of their comrades wait, watch and listen in as well. The Hummers and Jeeps will move in once the truck is inside the compound.
Milagros is singing ‘Feliz Navidad’ along to the disc player as she stares ahead through a pair of binoculars. Even though her pitch is a half-step flat, Morales finds her voice pleasing.
“I see the buses,” she says, stopping in mid song. “There are two of them.”
“Just like we expected.”
“Si.”
Manuel steals a glance at the young woman in the passenger-side seat. Milagros is a dark-skinned, shapely five-foot-eight beauty with large, brown eyes and straight, waist-long black hair. She has on black, cowboy boots, a short, black skirt and a matching, low V-neck, sweater. Delatorre is wearing the revealing clothing for the mission’s sake and not because she enjoys the immodesty. She, in fact, does not enjoy it. The scanty outfit made her cringe when it was first shown to her, no doubt dredging up unpleasant associations to her days spent as a sex slave in Tijuana. For the mission’s sake, Milagros put her distaste aside and agreed to wear what she called ‘the shameless half-skirt and half-shirt.’
“It’s hard to believe some women choose to wear so little in public,” Milagros remarked when they were given to her.
Padre Negro nodded in agreement. “I’m afraid some women choose to wear a lot less and do a lot worse in public, my dear.”
She shook her head at the thought and asked why. “Por que, Padre?”
“The world has convinced them that there is no such a thing as sin,” the young priest explained. “It’s taught them that freedom is to be found in shamelessness. And not just women, of course; men too have been taught that the indiscriminate feeding of their sexual appetite is acceptable, even commendable. As a result, this favorite movement of the modern world, what they laughably call ‘sexual liberation,’ h
as enslaved millions to their bodies and its appetites. This movement is father to so many ills and evils; divorce, abortion, unwanted and unloved children, sexual disease, sexual slavery - all of it is the result of ‘liberating’ sex from marriage.”
Remembering the priest’s words, Miguel Morales lifts his gaze from Milagros’ long, walnut-brown legs. He turns his attention back to the road. Manuel knows it is perfectly natural for a man like him to appreciate, even adore the beauty of a woman like Milagros, but he knows also the failings that flesh is heir to. He loves Milagros and so he will not allow his affection for her to be soiled by base appetite. God willing, they have prayed, that one day soon, when the revolution is triumphant, they will marry. Until then, they will honor their vows of celibacy to the Order of Knights Templar.
The Order demands that its knights take a seven year vow of chastity. Manuel is three years into his vow. Milagros has recently taken her first. He tried to dissuade her, but Delatorre insisted on sharing his struggle, his path and, if need be, his fate. He could not deny her, especially when she completed the grueling training without a whine or whimper.
He looks at her again, this time catching her eye and giving her a loving wink, admiring how long a way she has come since her rescue five years ago. Manuel can remember the shrunken, emaciated body and the darting, deep-sunken eyes of the wretched creature he found screeching with terror in the corner of a filthy brothel stall. At the time, Morales feared that Delatorre wouldn’t survive for long after the rescue. Her detoxing was a harrowing experience for all concerned, but she did eventually pull through it. Once free of heroin’s grip, the young woman recovered by leaps and bounds.
They identified her through dental records. It turned out that Milagros was born in Santa Fe New Mexico to a young couple living illegally in the United States. In 2009 the young family joined the droves of illegal aliens returning to Mexico as job opportunities for them in the States dwindled in the imploding economy. Their bus was stopped by a band of Los Zetas who killed everyone onboard except for the half dozen girls they raped and sold into slavery. Delatorre’s parents were just two of the over fifty thousand people killed along the Mexican-American border by the cartels in the first decade of the century. Sometime later they discovered a great aunt of hers living in Mexico City who contributed some photos and the few facts known about her parents. On learning about her aunt, Manuel offered to arrange Delatorre’s return to Mexico, but Milagros declined.
The House of War: Book One Of : THE OMEGA CRUSADE Page 20