Showing a hint of surprise, Gemini asks, “Are you doing this brother?”
Still angered by his brother’s recklessness, L’girra leaps at Gemini. Swinging his sword, he grunts, “No!”
Gemini blocks and strikes. His mind and body immediately recall the skills he once wielded in this ancient land, in which he tried to conquer. He remembers the village. He remembers this was L’girra’s village.
At first, L’girra is merely attacking in anger, swinging almost clumsily at his foe. But with each clang and ring of their swords’ metal, his muscles gain the skills of a master. The synapses of both his mind and nerves communicate with the speed and efficiency of a battle-tested champion. Something is causing him to regain and relearn the skills of a fighter.
L’girra’s eyes notice the surroundings, the houses, and hills behind his brother. But unlike Gemini, this is not a life he remembers, and this is not a place that brings familiarity.
Gemini is keenly aware of his brother’s transforming swordsmanship.
Each of L’girra’s strikes gains more precision, his blocks become more instinctive, and his positioning turns more strategic.
Gemini swings his sword, and it sings as it cuts across the cool night air.
L’girra leaps back while the tip of Gemini’s sword misses. But, as he lands, the uneven dirt causes him to lose balance, and then fall to the ground.
In the distance, upon a small hill, a young woman gasps in fear. Standing at the opened door of a small house, she holds her baby, with intense apprehension and concern. She is L’girra’s wife, the long-ago ancestor of Crystal’s fourth victim, Tamara Mitsuko Kaneko.
Turning his head, L’girra looks at the woman.
Their eyes meet, but he does not recognize her.
Gemini leaps forward to attack.
Turning quickly around, L’girra jumps to his feet.
But once again, their surroundings transform to that of another time and another place. The change is abrupt.
Coming to a stop from his leap, Gemini finds himself lunging forward in the passenger’s seat of a vehicle. Immediately, he extends his hands in order to prevent himself from colliding into the vehicle’s dashboard.
The car is parked.
From outside, Gemini’s driver hears the thud. He opens the driver-side door of the early twentieth-century black vehicle. Leaning his head into the car, the driver asks in the German language, “Are you alright, Major?”
With his hands still on the dashboard, Gemini cautiously looks out, at both sides of the vehicle. Then, looking down, he realizes he is wearing an SS Major’s black military uniform. Slowly, he turns his head toward his driver, and then, just as slowly, he turns to face the road ahead.
He is in World War II Germany.
Gemini sees the SS flags on either side of the hood of the car. Turning around gently, he looks out the back window. Through it, he can see the estate of Colonel Friedrich von Tiechler engulfed in red-hot consuming flames. Gemini’s men have just finished setting every side and every corner ablaze.
He remembers this day vividly, how he tortured the Colonel, how he sliced wide open the tender cheek of von Tiechler’s little son, how he bled away the life of their little girl.
Gemini turns away from the blaze, turning away from the memory. As he lowers his head, he closes his eyes. He shuts them tightly.
“Major?” his driver asks cautiously.
Gemini does not respond.
Not hearing an answer, the driver carefully, slowly, and fearfully retreats from the opened door and gently closes it.
It is a long moment before Gemini opens his eyes once again. Then, dispassionately, he finally calls out, “Soldier, we need to go.”
The driver commands the other men to their vehicles, and then opens his own door and enters. He starts the engine and revs it. A second later, he shifts the car into gear and speeds away.
A short distance from the burning house, Mrs. von Tiechler, crying into her hands, kneels on the cold dirt.
Next to her, little Friedrich von Tiechler tenderly lays his small hand upon his mother’s back, trying to console her. With his other hand, he presses a torn piece of cloth over his bloody, sliced cheek. As he watches the passing black vehicles spew dirt from their tires, he tells himself that he will remember this day for all his life. Through his tear-stained face, his eyes are aflame with anger and vengeance. He will remember every face of every soldier. He will remember the face of the Major. He will remember the steely, cold face of Gemini.
Courageous little Friedrich von Tiechler will years later seek his revenge. Upon maturing, as a young man in America, he will change his name. Validating FBI Agent Stevens’ research, Friedrich will much later become the grandfather of Samuel Ian Kessian.
Hours after leaving the von Tiechler estate, Gemini’s convoy reaches the base of a mountain where, at its peak, is Kehlsteinhaus, Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest retreat. There, L’girra - the assassin - is about to execute his best-laid plans.
As they drive up the side of the high mountain, the tall, lush evergreen trees along the roadside rush by. The cold wind whooshes through the closed car windows, attempting to bleed through the gaps at the edges.
At his side window, Gemini leans forward and peers up into the sky. He looks, not for the retreat at the peak of the mountain, but for the heavens, through the clouds in the sky. Gazing, peering, he seeks and questions earnestly, Father, what is it you are doing? And for whose sake? A moment later, he moves his eyes back to the winding road ahead, searching the answer on his own.
L’girra is where Gemini expects him.
Speaking to a man in his fifties who wears a black formal suit, L’girra holds in his hand a glass of red wine. He stops in mid-sentence. Puzzled by the new surroundings, he scans around.
From a piano at one corner of the large room, he hears Mozart being softly played.
Across the way, he sees himself in a mirror. He is clothed in the gray uniform of the German army. An officer’s hat is on his head, and he can see that the hair at the back of his neck is buzzed short. His goatee is closely shaven to his skin.
Glancing around, he sees about twenty guests and foreign dignitaries chatting amongst themselves. White and gold curtains adorn the walls from ceiling to floor. The fireplace, at the center of a long wall, is aflame with comforting heat. The new, serene surroundings are a sudden shock to his adrenaline-heightened body.
Soon, the man in front of him asks, “Is there something the matter, Major?”
L’girra remembers this room: it is a room from one of his very vivid dreams. Now he realizes it. Also does he realize that it is not merely a dream. It has indeed happened in his past.
He is in Kehlsteinhaus.
And he is to assassinate the Fuhrer.
Easing his puzzled gaze, he turns his eyes back to the man, in order to answer the question. “No,” he says in German, with a casual laugh, “I was just suddenly preoccupied with something else.”
L’girra extends his hand. “Please excuse me, sir,” he says. After shaking hands, he pardons himself and directs his steps around the perimeter of the room. With his eyes scanning, he notices someone casually watching him. She is beautiful and wearing a formal, shapely black dress.
Raising her glass to him, she smiles her greeting. She is the young woman named Crystal. Not only is she watching him for other motives, but earlier, she walked by him and smelled his rich Nephilim blood. So now, she gives him more of her attention.
Not knowing who she is, L’girra responds with a kindly nod and smile. Then, he turns and walks, greeting other guests.
At his hip, he feels there is a revolver. He will soon need it.
He waits for their honored host, while Mozart continues to softly play, from the corner of the room.
For the third and final time, the scene vanishes and is replaced. But unlike the sudden change that transported him into Germany, this change is gradual and protracted.
As the people, the
hanging curtains, and the stone walls of Kehlsteinhaus wisp away, L’girra’s eyes focus past them and into the growing, black expanse of the night. Raising his head, he sees the first object materializing into view: high above, the brilliantly formed half-moon arrives.
Then, the peaks of the mountain terrain, surrounding Kehlsteinhaus, dissolve and are replaced by the flatlands of a coastal plain.
L’girra begins to see high pillars of piled wood all ablaze. They appear at regular intervals around him, forming a gigantic semi-circle, stretching far out in front of him.
Among the semi-circle of pillars, L’girra sees a multitude of people coming into being. They are thousands upon thousands of Nebuchadnezzar II’s warriors.
Turning around, he finds the coastline behind him, and behind that is the ancient island city of Tyre. In ships within the Mediterranean Sea, thousands of warriors of Tyre materialize. Thousands more crowd atop the walls surrounding the island.
As the scene constructs, he hears a loud chant of a name. The warriors of Tyre raise their swords and spears. In unison they call out the name of one of the gods of The Great Twins constellation, the god who stands as their champion.
The name is his name.
They chant, “Lu-gal-girra! Lu-gal-girra! Lu-gal-girra!”
L’girra is awestruck. “Was I here?” he asks in a whisper. Mesmerized by the countless pillars of flames against the black and starry sky, and by the thundering voices of the throng behind him, he says, “They’re call for me?”
Gazing down at himself, he sees that instead of the military uniform, he is now clad in brown leather. Sewn into the leather are polished bronze plates upon his chest, shoulders, and forearms.
In front of him, a distance away, Gemini materializes, much like an apparition. Upon his white steed, he is already charging, with the beast under him in full stride.
L’girra’s body rises into the air and begins to swiftly glide forward. Beneath him, his running black horse appears with its nostrils flared, breathing in cold air and breathing out purified heat. The thundering sound of his horse’s hooves upon the dry earth fills L’girra’s ears. Energy starts to pump through his veins.
L’girra leans forward into the line of attack.
Gemini, extending his arm to the side, creates a huge ball of flame and flings it at his brother.
Before it reaches him, L’girra disperses the flame with a mighty wind.
The fiery display causes warriors of both sides to roar and cheer in excitement.
Against each other, the brothers fight with the powers of the heavens. Riding their horses into the sky, then down through the earth, and then back upon the land, they strike the armies spellbound. With magnificent lights unseen until that night, and with wondrous creations of both tangible objects and mystifying nebulous visions, they fight as masters of the earth and sky.
From the east, riders on horseback race to the battlefield. Their black desert robes wave freely behind them with the wind. Their horses’ hooves fling thick clouds of dust into the air, as they etch into the earth the path of their hasty approach. Among them is a gentle, flowing form of one royal rider. Those accompanying her are her royal entourage and her royal guards.
The gentle rider is princess Raqada, whose name means dance.
Raqada and her entourage reach the perimeter of the half-circle of fiery pillars. There, Raqada finds the high platform upon which her father, the great king Nebuchadnezzar, sits and awaits the victory of his army’s fair-skinned champion and god.
Upon reaching the platform, Raqada leaps from her horse. Her straight, long, raven hair reaches down to her waist, and flows in the wind, as she runs in earnest to her father.
On the battlefield, the brothers leap off their horses, and then fight on the ground.
Gemini wields a whip, not of leather, but of hot electricity; it blazes when reared into the air, and it sparks and crackles when it strikes the ground.
L’girra grips a double-edge sword in one hand and momentarily leaves the other hand free to defend.
They stalk and circle each other, like two lions awaiting the opportunity to pounce.
Gemini speaks, “I know what is happening, brother.” He cracks the whip, and its tip sets the dirt aflame. “Our Father is doing this. He’s making us shift through time so that we relive and re-experience our past battles. And I know why He’s doing it…He’s doing this for you.”
L’girra listens. Lowering the point of his sword, he scratches a long arch into the ground, as he circles around Gemini.
“You’re relearning your skills aren’t you?” asks Gemini. “I can see you’re fighting much better. And your mind and body are remembering how to move, how to fight, how to strategize. You’re also learning how I move, how I fight, how I…strategize.”
“It makes for a fair fight, doesn’t it, brother?” responds L’girra, with a grin.
Gemini emphatically cracks his whip, and then says, “Not quite, brother. You see, I’ve been the one beating you, over the centuries, over millennia. I’ve been the victor. I’ve earned the right to retain my skills and not lose them, as you have.”
L’girra grins. “Well, about our Father. He will do what He will do, G.”
As the two brothers walk the arc of their circle, Gemini pauses in his thoughts. Considering more closely the circumstances he finds himself within, he thinks, L’girra is becoming as skilled as I. Nevertheless, isn’t this is exactly what I have sought, starting from when I first began developing his abilities, by putting him through trials? It is imperative, for what I must do, that we become equals - so we can fight as equals. So, in that way, isn’t this to my benefit also?
After pondering the idea more, Gemini suddenly realizes, Our Father is helping him, but in doing so, He also helps me. And He must certainly know this is true. Thinking much more deeply about what he has just said, he stops. Then, becoming more keenly aware of what is happening, he apprehensively asks a question to which he may already know the answer, Father, is it your intent to assist me now?
As Gemini’s eyes sharpen their gaze on his brother, he reaches a conclusion, definitively answering his own question, Yes. Yes, it must be! Because You truly already know what I painfully have to do. Gemini’s spirit comes alive with excitement and energy. He is in both disbelief but completely believing that his Father is indeed also aiding him. In pure gratefulness, he recognizes that his pleas for guidance have not gone unheard. Thankful, he adds, Father, I see now that You have not turned Your face from me.
The realization gives Gemini the resolve and strength he needs to perform the very difficult and agonizing task he must later accomplish against L’girra, in order to deceive the dark entity and to be released from their bargain. Agonizing pain will come to him, because of powerfully conflicting emotions: On one hand, he will find it unbearably difficult to give excruciating pain to his brother and to ruthlessly break his body. But on the other, he knows his twisted desires to control, manipulate, and deceive will give him sheer pleasure in causing it to happen.
In his thoughts, Gemini reasons, Since my irreparably reprobate heart will not allow me to simply break this bargain with the entity, I must do it in a way my heart craves and desires: through deception. Then, concealing his gladness in his Father’s assistance, and maintaining his detached facade, he says to L’girra, “Yes. And isn’t it like our Father…to always treat us equally…but to never treat us the same.”
In the distance, among the fiery pillars, Gemini hears the voice of a pleading young woman. He recognizes the voice as an echo from the faraway past. Raising his livewire whip, he decides to inform his brother. “By the way,” Gemini says flatly, “your girlfriend’s here.”
L’girra quickly turns to the direction of the woman’s voice.
With L’girra distracted, Gemini snaps the electric whip, and it slices through his brother’s upper arm.
L’girra jerks his head back around. More irritated by the tactic than hurt by the wound, he snarls at
Gemini.
Once again, the two raise their weapons and fervently clash.
* * * * * * *
At the other side of the world, a droplet of rain falls from the dark afternoon sky, directed only by the gusting wind. Weaving high above the ground, the droplet maneuvers over the San Diego coastline. Then, the wind diverts it and steers it inland, where it glides just above a small mountain, Mount Soledad. In time, it flies directly above the mountain’s peak. Unexpectedly, the wind stops its flurry. Down, in a vertical trajectory, the tiny bead of water falls, almost perfectly above the fourteen-meter high, white concrete cross, at the mountain’s summit.
Samuel Ian Kessian sits alone and silent at the base of the cross, facing the ocean.
A moment later, the speeding droplet strikes his cheek, and he allows himself to feel the slight sting.
In the circular parking lot that defines the perimeter of the cross, Sik’s car is parked a short distance away. In its trunk, Paige is about to wake from a chemically induced sleep. Her hands and feet are bound together with twine, and her mouth is taped shut. Around her are several high-explosive devices.
Looking down, Sik’s eyes stare at the mobile phone in his hand.
With a tormented heart, he moves his thumb to push the buttons for the numbers to trigger the explosives.
After the last number, he stops.
His thumb slides to the side of the phone.
For a long moment, he is frozen, frozen by his conscience.
The drops of rain strike his baseball cap and the leather of his jacket, but they produce no sound that his ears want to sense.
Sik’s head sinks down into his heavy heart.
He knows what he needs to do, but he cannot find the will to do it.
He begins to weep.
In a soft whisper, he mouths the words, “I’m sorry, Dad. I just miss you.”
* * * * * * *
Crystal’s eyes delight in her helpless prey dangling upside-down in front of her. She tightens her rope-like grip around Aaron’s ankle. With the tentacles from her other palm, she wraps them around the wrist of Aaron’s hand that holds the gun. She squeezes Aaron’s flesh and joints until the pain is unbearable.
RB 01 Through Flesh & Bone Page 67