The Belial Fall

by R. D. Brady

  Drake nodded toward the two men. “I believe the answers to those questions lie with those two men.”

  Laney gripped her uncle’s chair tightly. “Well, then let’s go get some answers.”

  CHAPTER 46

  Photos lined the walls of the hallways that Bas led them down. Children at play smiled out at them from the black-and-white to the colored shots, a progression of faces through time. Laney paused halfway down one hall, inspecting a photo of three smiling children around ten years old. The little boy and girl were identical, from their dark hair to their dark eyes and their bright smiles. Both had their arms around the waist of a darker-skinned boy whose smile lit up the shot.

  Drake peered at the shot as well. “What is it?”

  She nodded to the boys. “Bas and David,” she said before heading toward Bas. He had disappeared in a doorway at the end of the hall.

  The doorway Bas had entered opened up into a large, bright kitchen. A tall woman with large muscular arms and curly dark hair sprinkled with gray looked up from where she was rolling dough at a large kitchen island. She let out a happy cry, dropping the rolling pin and hurriedly wiping her hands on her apron. David strode over to her, and she threw her arms around him. She spoke quickly in Italian. David responded in kind. The two chatted back and forth before the woman glanced at Laney, Patrick, and Drake. Her mouth fell open.

  She quickly shifted to English. “Oh my. Oh, forgive me, how rude. You, you are the ring bearer.”

  Laney inclined her head, not sure how exactly to respond to the woman’s wide-eyed look.

  That wide-eyed look only grew wider as she took in Drake. She turned to Bas. He shook his head slightly, making Laney frown. What was he warning her about?

  “Sylvia, may I please introduce Delaney McPhearson, her uncle, Patrick Delaney, and Drake.”

  Sylvia curtsied, using her apron as a skirt. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you. It’s an honor. It’s—”

  Bas cut her off, for which Laney was glad, because she was pretty sure the woman was going to curtsy again. “Sylvia, we are going to speak in the den. Maybe some snacks?”

  “Oh, of course. I have some lemon bars I just made, and—”

  David put an arm around her. “Why don’t I help you set up a tray, and we can catch up?”

  “It was nice meeting you,” Laney said, politeness overriding her misgivings of Bas and David.

  Sylvia beamed at her. “Yes, yes, you as well.”

  Laney followed Bas down yet another hallway. The place was huge. He led them to a large den at the end of the hall. Commercial carpet covered the floor. One wall was lined with bookcases only two shelves high, filled with books and board games. Pictures created by what could only be years of children filled the walls above them.

  Five different couches and a dozen chairs were scattered into different seating areas. None of the furniture matched. There were five different rugs for each of the sitting areas as well. Yet there was something incredibly welcoming about the space.

  The wall opposite the bookshelves was lined with old windows. Sunlight streamed in from them along with the sounds of children. Laney pushed Patrick toward them, the squeals and laughter of children too enticing to avoid. The windows overlooked a courtyard, where a group of five children were bouncing a large ball between themselves.

  “I never tire of that sound,” Patrick said, looking out.

  Bas walked over to stand next to them. “It is a good place to grow up.”

  “You grew up here?” Patrick asked.

  “My sister and I arrived here when we were only four years old. I remember just being so scared. And then I remember sitting in Sylvia’s kitchen with a giant glass of milk, an afghan over our shoulders that Sister Cristela had knitted, and a giant plate of sugar cookies in front of us. We spent the first year sitting in Sylvia’s kitchen. She never minded. She would let us help with her baking, although I’m sure at that age we were more of a nuisance than a help. But she never made us feel that way.”

  “It sounds like you found a home,” Laney said.

  “We did. All the children here do.”

  “That we do,” David said as he walked in carrying a tray.

  Laney turned. “Your accent isn’t Italian.”

  “Ah, no. I spent my first seven years in England. The accent never left, even when my parents returned to Italy. They passed away in a car accident a year later.”

  “I’m sorry,” Patrick said.

  David shrugged. “I suppose it was their time.”

  “Then you ended up here,” Laney said.

  David placed the tray on a coffee table and began to unload mugs. He poured tea into each of them. “Yes. And I am very grateful I did. It gave me a family again.”

  Laney looked between the two men. “So you two have known each other for what, two decades?”

  “Almost three, actually,” Bas said.

  “And you are some sort of government bureaucrat,” Drake said, looking at David then turning to Bas. “While you went into the priesthood, becoming a member of some secret violent group of priests. Seems you went down different paths.”

  David took a seat, lifting a cup of tea and twirling a spoon through it. “Our paths are not as dissimilar as they appear. My government work is slightly more active than my current title would suggest.”

  Laney studied the man. He had the confidence of a man who knew he could handle himself. She doubted there were many situations David Okafur found himself uncomfortable in. He smiled.

  “So how did you come to help my uncle?” Laney asked. “Did you just happen to end up the liaison in this case?”

  Bas shook his head, taking a lemon bar from the tray. “No. We have spent years putting things into place so that we would be ready when we were called.”

  “Called? Called to do what?” Laney asked.

  David took a sip of tea. “Why, help you, ring bearer. You are the culmination of our life’s work.”

  CHAPTER 47

  “What do you mean they have escaped?” John Moretti yelled.

  Ezekiel cringed, hunching his shoulders as if waiting for the blow. “I-I do not know what to say, sir. We followed the plan exactly. But they escaped the cell before our brothers were even in the room. And they took them down with ease.”

  “Yes, but how did they escape the castle?”

  “I-I—we had all the exits covered. All the tunnels. But they knew of one that we did not even know about.”

  John narrowed his eyes. “What?”

  “It leads out from one of the old storage rooms. Our brothers broke through the wall and followed them through the tunnel, but it branches off in multiple directions. They lost them.”

  “How did they know it was there? Did they have inside help?”

  “Not that we know of, but the security cameras went down during the escape, so we cannot rule out that possibility.”

  John seethed. He should have taken the inner council’s warnings more seriously. Apparently McPhearson was more dangerous than they thought. Or more likely, it was God’s soldier. They needed to get to him, remind him of who he was. They needed him helping them, not unwittingly helping the antichrist.

  “Very well. Make sure Father Patrick is taken to—”

  “Sir, he has gone missing.”

  “Missing?”

  “Yes, Your Eminence. Our men moved in to intercept him, but the U.S. envoy defended him and took down our brothers. Then the two of them escaped.”

  “Escaped? This is the Vatican! We control every camera, every exit. How did they escape?”

  “Um, once again, the cameras went down.”

  John glared at him. “And you don’t think someone on the inside helped them either?”

  “Sir, our people are loyal to the Vatican, to the Church. They would never betray us.”

  John studied him. Ezekiel believed what he said, but that did not make it true. He was completely loyal to the Church and could not conceive of another membe
r of the priesthood who did not have the same level of loyalty.

  But John had heard rumors of another group within the Church. A group whose goal was not to fulfill the wants of the Church but were to make the Divine Feminine the equal of God. He had written them off years ago. After all, in all his time in the Church and in all of the Church’s history, there’d been no sign of them.

  Except perhaps in the tenth century. Pope Joan, the only female Pope. She had been stricken from the books, but John did not doubt her existence. He was, after all, a practical man. He could admit she had existed. Just as he could admit that she could never be publicly recognized.

  But supporting Delaney McPhearson, another woman trying to take a place she did not deserve, trying to usurp the real power of the male Pope, that could not be allowed. And she had slipped through their fingers. But the moment was gone. He could not dwell on it. He needed to focus on next steps.

  “Where is Bas? Has he returned?”

  “I believe he went to visit his sister.”

  John nodded. Father Bas was extremely close to his sister, who ran an orphanage in Rome. She was a good nun, dedicated to her charges and the Church. “Very well. Contact all the members of the High Council. We will need to meet to discuss next steps.”

  “Yes, sir. Of course.” Ezekiel hurried from the room.

  John turned and stared out the window, watching the heavy traffic in the streets of Rome below. Delaney McPhearson had slipped from their grasp and the net they had placed around her. But she would be destroyed. It was only a matter of time.

  He took a breath. This wasn’t even the first battle. This was a sparring match. They’d thrown some light punches just to see what she could do. And now they knew. She protected herself and those she cared about. They could use that. They would use that.

  The Church and the Brotherhood had existed through the ages. Delaney McPhearson was no match for them. It would take time, but they would succeed. After all, many others had tried to destroy the Church and they themselves had paid the ultimate price. She would be no different.

  CHAPTER 48

  Laney looked between Bas and David. The two could not be physically more different, yet the expressions on their faces were identical.

  Patrick rolled his chair over. “What do you mean the culmination of your life’s work?”

  Bas gestured to the chairs. “Why doesn’t everyone take a seat, and we can discuss it?”

  Drake shrugged, his gaze on Laney. “Your call.” He cracked his knuckles. “Listen or not, either way, I’m game.”

  The threat was clear, and both men suddenly looked ill at ease.

  “I, for one, would like to know,” said Patrick. “David did help me out of what could have been a very difficult situation.”

  “All right.” Laney took a seat near Patrick, automatically reaching for the tea and handing him a cup after pouring in milk and sugar. “So, tell me, how do two orphans from Italy end up involved in whatever the heck is going on now?”

  David shook his head. “It’s not just two orphans. There have been dozens, hundreds even, over the years.”

  “And who calls the shots?”

  “I do.” A tall woman with dark hair strode into the room. David jumped to his feet to hug her. The woman smiled as her arms slid around him. She wore a long white habit with her dark hair pulled back. She was striking even without any makeup to accentuate her dark eyes.

  Laney turned to Bas. “Your sister?”

  Bas nodded.

  “Mine as well,” David said as he escorted the woman over to join them. “Unofficially, of course.”

  Bas stood. “Laney, this is Sister Angelica Gante. She runs the school.”

  Laney extended her hand. “Sister.”

  The sister took Laney’s hand in both of hers. “Please, please call me Angelica. It is an honor to have the ring bearer pay us a visit.”

  “And this is Drake,” Bas said as Drake stepped forward.

  Angelica gasped, her eyes growing large. “It’s you.”

  Drake took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Ah, you’ve seen my show.”

  Angelica aimed a frown at Bas. “Your show?”

  Now it was Laney’s turn to frown.

  Bas stepped forward, drawing their attention. “Angelica has never met a fallen angel before. She saw you on TV at the coronation.”

  “Yes, it was quite an event,” Patrick muttered.

  Angelica gestured to the couch. “Please, sit, sit.” She smiled at David. “We have missed you. How is Rahim?”

  “He’s good. Working away, saving more innocent souls.”

  “You should have brought him.”

  “Next time. I had a feeling this time would be a little more action oriented than he would appreciate.”

  Angelica studied Patrick, Delaney, and Drake. “It appears that is the case. I just received a report from Carlos.”

  “Carlos works in the Vatican,” David explained. “He’s a custodian. He helped Father Patrick and I get out.”

  “Is he all right?” Patrick asked.

  Angelica smiled. “Yes, he is fine. No one knows he was involved. But the Vatican security was still in an uproar when I spoke with him. They are examining every exit. Every tourist.”

  “Are they all in on it?” Patrick asked.

  Angelica shook her head. “No, no. But the Brotherhood, they have their tentacles everywhere. They are not questioned by the Vatican security. Security responds to their directives as if they were ordered by the Pope himself. I believe they may even think that is the case. They believe they are doing the right thing.”

  “Is the Pope part of the Brotherhood?” Patrick asked.

  “No,” Angelica said quickly. “He is a good man. He knows nothing of their work or their mission beyond the official group that is charged with seeing to the papacy’s protection. He has no idea the lengths they have gone to or will go to in order to protect him.”

  “How have they been able to get such control, such power?” Laney asked.

  Angelica sank into the couch, sitting between Bas and David. The affection between the three of them was obvious. David handed her a lemon bar on a plate while Bas arranged her tea. She took a sip and a bite of lemon bar, smiling her thanks at each of her brothers. “Delicious. Well, the Brotherhood goes back decades, to the death of Pope John Paul I.”

  Laney frowned. “Only decades?”

  “Officially decades,” Angelica said. “Unofficially, they have existed for much longer than that. They go back to the first millennium of the Church. To an incident that, had it been allowed to be known, they believe would have rocked the Church to its very core.”

  Patrick frowned, his hand going to his chin. “During the first millennium?”

  Laney knew he was wracking his brain, rifling through hundreds of years of Church history, looking for an event that would have spawned such a group. Laney didn’t need to go through quite as many mental calculations. She just needed to recall the statue of the Pope in the front foyer of the orphanage. “Pope Joan.”

  Angelica studied Laney over the rim of her cup, her eyebrows raised. “Yes. I should have known the ring bearer would make the connection.”

  “When you say ring bearer, it’s as if you have known her for years,” Drake said.

  “No, not years,” Angelica replied. “Millennium. We have studied you and the Great Mother.”

  “You have the tome,” Patrick said.

  “No. We’ve never actually had it,” Bas said. “But the Brotherhood has one.”

  “How did you send me a copy, then?” Patrick asked.

  Angelica patted Bas’s knee. “That was thanks to Bas. He has been secretly scanning the Tome page by page for years.”

  “It’s one of the reasons I joined the Brotherhood.”

  “Why not just steal it back?” Drake said.

  “Because it would let the Brotherhood know we existed. And it is better if we continue to work in the shadows,” Angelica s
aid.

  Patrick made a small sound. Laney turned to him, concerned, but he was smiling. “You’re Followers.”

  Angelica nodded. “Yes.”

  “Followers?” Drake asked. “Followers of what?”

  “The Great Mother,” Laney said softly. “How long does your line go back?”

  “To the very beginning,” Angelica said softly.

  CHAPTER 49

  Laney looked at the three people in front of her. Were they really followers of the Great Mother? Had they somehow orchestrated all of this to help Laney?

  “What do the Followers have to do with the Brotherhood?” she asked.

  “For centuries, nothing, although Joan was one of us. But we existed along parallel tracks. It wasn’t until the death of Pope John Paul I that our lives intersected.”

  “Ah,” Patrick said,

  “‘Ah?’ Why ‘ah?’” Drake asked.

  “Pope John Paul I, who was known as the Smiling Pope, was only in office for thirty-three days before his death,” Patrick said.

  Laney had to admit she did not know much about the history of the Popes. “Thirty-three days? That’s awfully short. Was he extremely old?”

  “No. He was only sixty-six at the time of his death,” Angelica said.

  “How’d he die?” Drake asked.

  “Officially, a heart attack,” David said. “But unofficially, there were rumors that he had actually been murdered.”

  “A Pope murdered? That’s—” Laney was going to say crazy, but then she flashed on the statue of Joan from the entryway and shut her mouth. Maybe it wasn’t so crazy.

  Bas clasped his hands on the table. “Allegedly, the night before he died, he asked for the Vatican Bank to be investigated.”

  Laney knew the Vatican Bank had been a problem for the Church’s image for years. Scandals wracked the financial arm of the Vatican’s empire involving issues from Mafia links to insurance benefits involving Jews from the Holocaust, covering up abuses of Vatican spending, and even laundering money for the underworld and Italian elites.