Deadly Cult

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Deadly Cult Page 9

by Joel Gomez-Dossi


  But thank goodness things are going as planned here at the Brethren. He still had doubts about Ground Zero, though. Communication with his mole had always been spotty. Yet hours ago, Mordecai got a transmission saying the mole had an opportunity to infiltrate the enemy’s camp and needed several of the Disciples.

  Mordecai worried the request might be a setup. His mole could be a double agent. That seemed unlikely, though. Mordecai’s sources said he was the best money could buy. But still—a man who could be bought could easily sell himself to the other side.

  The door to his office banged. It had to be Sharar. The man never accepted his place. Sharar always wants more, even if it belongs to me. Probably thinks I should leave the door unlocked just for him.

  If Sharar weren’t so good, Mordecai would have left him long ago. Sharar was an abomination, yet also the closest thing to a friend he had. In fact, he almost liked the guy. Sharar was intelligent and never let money get in the way of achieving his goals.

  If only he could control those urges.

  Mordecai punched the code into the security system. The reinforced steel door obliged. Sharar stepped in and waited. A power play, no doubt. Sharar was waiting for him to shut the door, so Mordecai ordered, “Close the door.”

  “It’s a little stuffy in here,” Sharar replied. “Thought we could use some fresh air.”

  Sharar didn’t move, and neither did Mordecai. After twenty seconds, the security system timed out and the doors automatically shut, making a loud clank as they locked.

  Mordecai thought every bad word imaginable, but said, “How did things go at the field exercises?” It wasn’t small talk; he would never engage in a conversation that wasn’t necessary. The field exercises were the only thing that mattered right now.

  “The mission will go fine, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Sharar walked around Mordecai’s office as if he owned it. He picked up a bottle of ink and started examining it.

  Mordecai snatched the bottle from his hands. “So you’ll be ready for Easter?”

  “I told you, the mission will be a success. We’ve done it before.”

  “But we’ve only done it with one gunman and one target.” Mordecai slammed the bottle on the table and ink slopped over the side.

  Sharar obediently took out his handkerchief and blotted up the mess. “Then we’ll continue our field exercises, if you insist.”

  “I do insist,” Mordecai said. Then he paused, a little unsure how Sharar would react next. “But there’s been a slight change of plans.”

  Sharar looked angry. “What change of plans?”

  “Our mole at Ground Zero requested we send him several of our Disciples.”

  “What the hell for?”

  “Don’t curse, Sharar.”

  “I’ll swear if I want to. We have been planning this mission for two years, and we’ve always included all twelve disciples in those plans. Now, one week before D-Day, you ask me to give up some of my men.”

  “The mole will put them to good use at the site, so there’s no debate on this matter. So you’ll do it?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No. But don’t worry—as long as you’re prepared.”

  “I’m not worried about my side of this mission,” Sharar said, putting the stopper back on the ink bottle. “But I am worried about how prepared your side is.” He tossed the bottle to Mordecai without warning.

  He caught it, and tried to control his temper. He couldn’t blow up at Sharar, not this close to the mission. “I don’t know what you’re implying.”

  “Well, you must be nervous. A week before the mission, and you find it necessary to give away my men, all the while you gather more Faithfuls for your side.”

  “Bringing in new Faithfuls wasn’t for the mission. It’s our spiritual duty.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot.” Sharar walked to the liquor cabinet and helped himself to the wine. “When are you gonna start stocking the good stuff? Something harder than communion piss?”

  Sharar’s blasphemy didn’t shock Mordecai, but he still hated him for it. Mordecai stood firm and said, “I’ll stock better liquor when you stop fucking boys.”

  Sharar scowled at him in return. But Mordecai knew Sharar had reason to be self-assured. Still in his thirties, he was tall, muscular, and good-looking. He used his natural sex appeal to control his Disciples, gay and straight. They adored him, but the feeling wasn’t mutual. It was dominating them that appealed to Sharar. Mordecai admired that, and envied him, too.

  Sharar lifted his glass to eye level and swirled the wine inside before gulping it down. “I honestly thought you’d be more concerned with your part of the mission. This is what you dreamed about since you got expelled from seminary, isn’t it?”

  Mordecai felt his control of the situation slipping out of reach. He couldn’t let that happen. “If I recall, Sharar, we were both expelled from seminary.”

  Sharar licked his finger and drew a point for Mordecai in the air. “Of course, I was only expelled from one institution of higher learning. How many did you get kicked out of?”

  “God has appointed me to be by his side,” Mordecai told him. “So what I’ve achieved at the Brethren speaks louder than any academic record.”

  “Mea culpa.” Sharar bowed slightly. “Remember when you changed our names to Mordecai and Sharar?”

  “I do. What about it?”

  “Well, I don’t remember what our names were before that.”

  “Our prior names don’t matter, Sharar. What matters is that you realize I’m the brains of this operation. You’re only the brawn.”

  “Oh, I know that. And I hope you know if your mission fails, you’ll be considered one of Christianity’s biggest villains.”

  “But I won’t fail. And the world will enter into a new era. Today the world identifies its epochs of time by the designations BC and AD. But after Easter Sunday, everything changes.” Mordecai grabbed Sharar’s wine and threw it against the wall. “After Easter, the world will realize my brilliance. They’ll fall to their knees in gratitude. They’ll worship me, and they’ll designate the modern age as RM. The Realm of Mordecai.”

  Sharar raised his empty hand as a toast. “Well then, here’s to the Realm of Mordecai.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Another call came in as Ellen pressed the fourth digit of Jamie’s phone number. She quickly answered, praying it was Jamie. It wasn’t—it was Chris, calling to say he’d pick her up in an hour. She told him she’d be ready and hung up.

  She tried to call Jamie again, still hoping it had been poor reception that kept him from answering the other times. Her call immediately went to voicemail, and she feared the reason was something more dangerous. Frantic, she called the phone company to report a problem. The man who answered took her information, but he refused to do anything else since it wasn’t her account. She contemplated calling the police. It had only been two and half days since she and Jamie last talked. Aggravating? Yes. Proof of a crime? No.

  Chris was the ideal person to pass the time with. He seemed to understand her and care about her investigation. She went down to the lobby to wait. He drove up, and they left to visit some of Boston’s poorest neighborhoods.

  “Rhodes’s charity efforts really shine at the community centers,” Chris said. “Free meals for seniors, tutoring for students, job counseling for the unemployed. All this underwritten by your father.” Ellen thought he sounded like a press release. In fact, the center they visited looked like a photo op. The Rhodes Petroleum logo was all over the center—painted on signs and printed on the center’s brochures.

  I’m glad Daddy’s generosity helps people. I just wish he would help Jamie and Eddie, too.

  She decided to fully confide in Chris. “My best friends went to that cult in the Adirondack Mountains. I haven’t heard from them, and I’m afraid something might have happened.”

  Chris looked at her intently. “And you’re afraid that the cult might be the
reason you haven’t heard from them?”

  Ellen nodded. “Jamie promised to keep in touch, but he doesn’t answer my calls.”

  “Well, I’m not sure you can do anything about it. It’s sad, but I’ve heard people who get messed up in cults often cut off contact with their family and friends.”

  Ellen got frustrated. “Jamie wasn’t joining the cult. He and Eddie got a message about the cult and were trying to infiltrate it. You see, Jamie sees himself as an amateur spy. A gay 007. He and his husband went to the Adirondack Mountains to investigate the Brethren. He asked me to go to Boston and see if there might be a connection with my father’s company.”

  Chris thought a moment. “Would you like me to send e-mails to everyone at the Boston branch asking if they know anything about the Brethren?”

  “That would be good idea.” If the connection between the Brethren and Rhodes Petroleum was through an employee, the e-mail would tip him off that people were on to him. But she couldn’t think of a better alternative, so it was worth taking the chance.

  Chris put the car into gear and started driving. But he didn’t get on the freeway, and he didn’t go to Dedham, either. He went north, to Faneuil Hall Marketplace, outside Boston’s government district, and parked.

  “Why did we come here?” Ellen asked. “It’s a tourist spot.”

  “They have free Wi-Fi.” Chris got out his laptop and started setting it up. “There’s always a lot of people in the area, so the Internet access is practically anonymous. With so many people surfing at the same time, it would be almost impossible to discern who’s doing what online. It’s one of the few public places Rhodes allows employees to use the Internet, as long as they follow a long list of security protocols.”

  “Ah,” she said, not quite understanding it all. “Can I do anything?”

  “Yeah. Open the glove box and get my dongle.”

  “Your what?” She looked over at Chris, but he had a serious look on his face.

  “My dongle.” This time he smiled.

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” she said. “What’s a dongle? It sounds dirty.”

  “I wouldn’t be that lucky. It’s a little box that you plug into your computer for safe computing.”

  “Oh, more boring stuff.”

  “Yeah. Your father is paranoid about cyber security. The dongle makes sure that the person accessing the Rhodes Petroleum private network is on a sanctioned computer. But since there are so many other ways to crack into a system, it hardly seems worth it.”

  “Oh,” Ellen said, like she understood him. She opened the glove box and found two of those little boxes. They looked almost identical. She held them up. “So, which one is it?”

  “This one,” he said.

  Ellen held up the other box. “Then what’s this one for?”

  “That one allows me to surf porn sites without being identified.” He arched his eyebrows and winked.

  “Oh, I’m sure. What’s it really for?”

  He looked into her eyes. “If I told you all my secrets, they wouldn’t be secrets.”

  “I guess you’re right,” she said, and watched Chris compose his e-mail:

  Attention: If anyone has information regarding the Brethren, please contact me ASAP. A person of interest to Rhodes Petroleum might be involved with them. The Brethren is a conservative Christian denomination, adhering to a strict interpretation of the Bible.

  Ellen almost cringed. The last sentence nearly quoted verbatim the web page Jamie had found on his smartphone. She wondered if Chris had been doing his own research.

  And if so, why?

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Barely midmorning and Mordecai had already encountered problems. A cop from the Adirondack State Park came to visit, saying he wanted to show “the head priest” something. He wouldn’t say what it was, so Mordecai guessed what kind of civil servant he was—one on the take.

  Government peons always want their payoff. And if that’s the case, I want to make sure I get my money’s worth. I already bought off half the elected officials in the county, what are a few more civil servants?

  He told Saul to bring the cop to the chapel. Mordecai didn’t want the Faithfuls to see a law officer traipsing through the compound, but it was better than meeting him in his office. There was too much confidential information there. Besides, he could always take care of a pesky Faithful if he needed to.

  Or a dirty cop, for that matter.

  Mordecai stood with his back to the altar and adjusted his sash. Holding a Bible in one hand, he lifted the other hand up to God. An overdone pose, perhaps, but he liked it anyway. He gave Saul the go-ahead and waited for the state’s civil servant—soon to be the Brethren’s servant—to enter. Saul ushered him inside. Overweight, he looked stupid dressed in the predictable uniform of drab khakis, a too-short olive jacket, and the obligatory wide-brimmed hat with chin strap.

  “Show some respect,” Mordecai yelled. “Remove your hat. This is the Lord’s house.”

  The officer complied. “Are you the head priest here?”

  “Well, I’m the spiritual leader,” Mordecai replied. “We don’t believe in the hierarchy of the priesthood or seminaries. Knowledge of God and his commandments should be common knowledge.”

  Mordecai took a seat in the first pew and let the sheriff stand. “So, what did you come here for?”

  The man scratched his head.

  “Speak up and speak fast, Officer, I’m busy saving souls. What are you busy at? Not much, by the looks of it.”

  The officer gave him a dirty look. “An abandoned car was found on state property just a couple of miles from here. Inside the glove box was this.” He produced a tattered envelope from inside his jacket. “Thought you might want to know what’s in it.”

  “And why would I be interested in something like that?”

  “Well, if you’re not, I can go back to the department and file it away. It would probably sit there for a couple of hours before somebody would open it up. But then it would be too late for you to do anything about.”

  “Okay, let’s see what you think I might be interested in.” Mordecai reached for the envelope, but the cop pulled it away.

  “Sorry, Mr. Spiritual Leader. I went to great expense coming here, even bent a few rules. I figure the contents of this envelope might be worth something, especially to you.”

  “How much?” Mordecai asked.

  “At least five thousand bucks.”

  “How do I know it’s worth five grand if I don’t know what the contents are?”

  “I guess you’ll have to take my word for it. Think of it as a leap of faith.”

  Mordecai paused, pretending he was considering the proposition, and nodded to Saul. “Give the man his thirty pieces of silver.”

  The cop pulled back the envelope. “I said the price was five thousand bucks.”

  “Sorry, Officer, a figure of speech. Saul, give the man ten thousand dollars.” Mordecai gave the visitor a wide smile. “Think of the extra money as payment for services not yet rendered.”

  Saul dug into his pocket and handed the money over. The officer looked alarmed, but he took the payment and gave Saul the envelope.

  “Wonderful.” Mordecai clapped his hands and took possession of the information. “Saul, since our business is finished with this good man, will you be kind enough to escort him outside?”

  “Certainly.” Saul took the officer by the elbow and led him to the door.

  “One more thing,” Mordecai interjected before they left. “This entire transaction has been video recorded, so don’t get the idea that you can renegotiate our terms in the future.” He stepped closer, about six inches from the officer’s face. “Bribing a public official is against the law, but so is accepting a bribe. Your bosses would probably be very angry if they ever found out.”

  A worried look spread over the officer’s face, but Saul dragged him away before he could say anything.

  When Mordecai was alone, he opened the envelo
pe and extracted a folded piece of paper. Two gold rings and two driver’s licenses fell out. Examining the contents, he started laughing. Jamie Bradford and Eddie Delgado. And by the looks of these rings, they’re legally married. They’re making this so easy for me it’s almost amusing.

  Then Mordecai read the note and he didn’t think they were funny any longer.

  To whom it may concern: This vehicle is not abandoned. We came to the Adirondacks with hopes of tracking down the cult known as the Brethren. We have reason to believe that illegal and nefarious things are happening there. Our friend Ellen Rhodes is working on leads in Boston. If this note is found, please contact her immediately. We plan on updating her every night about the situation here. She will be your best source for information.

  The faggots were friends of Ellen Rhodes. Mordecai knew who she was. She was Elden Rhodes’s daughter, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to make sure she wouldn’t screw up his plans. And the only way to do that was to pretend he was Jamie and convince her that everything was hunky-dory. He knew he couldn’t call her, but he could text her. He called Saul back. “Do we still have the fairy’s cell phone?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t had time to sell any of the phones yet. Why?”

  “Because when the time’s right, I’ll have to text this Ellen Rhodes.” Mordecai read the note again. He crumpled the paper into a little ball and laughed hysterically. Those queers aren’t only in danger. They’re good as dead, along with Ellen Rhodes and her wealthy father.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Church bells clanged from the sound system, followed by a song of praise. Jamie and Eddie ran out of the stables to find out what the noise was for. The Faithfuls were running into the square. They lined up.

  “Must be for Ash Wednesday service,” Eddie said, and they joined the parade.

 

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