“They’ve always been waiting for me,” Link said.
“What are you talking about?” Jeff asked. “For the past hour you’ve been acting weird, Link. I mean, really weird.”
“You remember we talked about this being a game, Jeff?”
“Yeah. So?”
“That’s what it is. A game.” He stopped filling clips and looked up. “Does anybody know what day it is?”
“Saturday,” Cliff said. “And I wouldn’t know that except my watch has both day and date. Link, Gerard’s right. What you’re planning is suicide. We’ll leave enough people here to defend this place. The rest of us will go with you. I – ”
“No,” Link said. “I have to do this.”
“Why, damnit?” Gerard shouted.
“Leave him alone,” Father Lattier said. “I think Link has finally put all the pieces of the puzzle together.”
Link cut his eyes to the old priest. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Knew what?” Jeff said.
“It’s a long story, gang, and I don’t know all the details; I suspect Father Lattier does. You see, I’m adopted.”
“Hell, Link!” Gerard said impatiently. “Everybody knows that. Everybody knows that’s the reason your brothers and sisters never liked you. What the hell’s that got to do with this situation?”
Link chuckled. “It’s been a good run, hasn’t it, Father Lattier?”
“Yes, it has, my boy.”
“Did you ever doubt I’d be back?”
“No. The church knew you’d be back.”
Gerard poured himself a stiff drink and downed it in one gulp. “People, we have enough mysteries going on around here. I don’t want another one. What’s going on?”
Linda Chavez suddenly paled and crossed herself. “No! I don’t want to hear this!”
“You’re very quick, Linda,” Link said. “I hope you plan on going to college.”
She nodded her head. She looked at Father Lattier, then cut her eyes to Father Palombo. “Adopted,” she whispered. “From where?”
“New Orleans,” Link said. “Go ahead, Linda. Let’s hear your theory. Nothing is going to happen to Anne and the kids until I’m dead. They can’t hurt them while I live. Go on.”
She closed her mouth and shook her head.
“How do you know that?” Matthew asked.
“Oh, I know. Finally. It has to be. Who arranged for my adoption, Father?”
“The Church.”
“Why the Church? Isn’t that unusual?”
“You were an unusual baby. It was a ... ah ... peculiar birth.”
“Yeah. I just bet it was. Probably scared the shit out of everyone present, didn’t it?”
“I was there, Link,” the old priest admitted. “There was quite a lot of praying.”
Link chuckled. Then he burst out laughing. “You didn’t know what I’d be, did you? Tell me, was someone there with a wooden stake and a mallet?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, boy!” Father Lattier snapped.
“My mother was Catholic; you wouldn’t have been there had she not been. Or at least they tried to make her a good Catholic, didn’t they?”
The old priest nodded his head. “Yes. For many years, many tried. All failed.”
“Then why in the goddamn hell was I raised outside the Church?” Link flared. “No, I’ll tell you. The Church wouldn’t sanction the baptism of someone, or something that they weren’t sure would grow up to be a normal person or a demon. Isn’t that right, Father?”
“That’s part of it,” the priest said stiffly. “But, boy, we looked after you. We found you a good home. Your mother and father saw to it that you had a good solid Christian base. We felt you would stray. And you did. But that’s all right. Lots of people stray.”
“But Mom and Dad didn’t know the whole story, did they?”
“Oh, yes, they did, Link. Everything. They accepted the risk. They fell in love with you the instant they saw you. You had a ... glow about you. I saw it; they saw it. I tried to tell the others that you should be raised in the Church. They wouldn’t hear of it. I was only a young priest then. I had little clout with my superiors. But I agreed to come here, to this town, and I’ve been here ever since.”
“You know who your real mother was, Link?” Cliff asked.
“Yeah. Not was. Is. She’s about fifteen miles north of here. Her name is Lynette Jackson. My mother is a goddamn witch!”
Chapter 13
“Damn!” Gerard said. He sat down heavily in a chair and stared at Link.
“When did you know I was not going to be like my mother?” Link asked the priest.
“The moment I laid eyes on you. Your mother was never allowed to see you, never allowed to hold you, kiss you, touch you in any way. The birth was by caesarian. Lynette was beginning to suspect that you were not of the devil’s family. She tried to abort you twice. That’s when the decision was made to do a section.”
“How old was she when I was born?”
Father Lattier smiled. “In what life? She was claiming to be about sixteen.”
Link thought about that. Ray had told him that Lynette and the judge met in college, married shortly after that, and moved up here about eighteen years ago. “It took her a while to find me.”
The priest shook his head. “No. She never found you. She doesn’t know that you’re her son.”
“What?”
“Anne and the kids were taken to satisfy a generations-old grudge. You know about the killing in this parish back in the 1800’s. That you and Anne are close only makes it better. She is of the mistaken belief – they all are – that with you out of the way, victory will be theirs. But all of this will end at sunrise tomorrow. When God’s light touches His day, the coven will have failed. But if they’re not destroyed, they’ll all rise again. And you’re the only one who can kill the witch that’s running this devil’s show.”
“Tell me this,” Link said. “Suppose I had been killed in the war or killed while working for the Agency? ...” He let that dangle.
“You wouldn’t have been. That was not the way the Lord meant for you to die.”
“But I might get my ticket punched tonight?”
“It’s certainly possible. I’m fairly certain this is my last night on this earth.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I have to go out to that old complex,” the priest said.
“No way,” Link told him. “There are probably two hundred and fifty or more armed men and women out at that plant. I’m going to be moving very fast, John. And I’ve got enough on my mind without having to worry about you.”
“I’ve been worrying about you for forty-two years, Link. You’re my brother’s child, son. You and I, we share the same blood.”
It was all coming too fast for Link. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. “What happened to my real father?”
“He killed himself after he learned what your mother really was. He was a good man, but he was weak.”
Link opened his eyes. “He was a priest, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. Not a very good one, I’m afraid. He should never have entered the priesthood. Don’t worry about me, Link. I’m ready to leave this earth. Past ready. I’m anxious to go.”
Father Palombo stood up. “I’ll get some things and be ready to go in a few minutes.”
“Don’t be absurd!” John told him. “You certainly are not going with us.”
“I will not be dissuaded,” Mark said. “This is God’s work tonight. And if I’m not here to do His work, what am I here to do?”
Father Lattier shrugged. “As you wish, Mark.”
“Will you hear my confession, Father?”
“Certainly.” He pointed to another room. “In there.”
The two priests left the den.
Link had changed clothes, dressing all in black. Now he changed socks and boots, lacing them up tight. “There
’ll be hell to pay – no play on words intended – right after sunrise, people. Or when I kill that spawn of the devil out there. If I do. I think the instant God’s light touches this part of His kingdom, a lot of the mind controls outside this area will cease to be. There’ll be cops all over this place. It’s going to be real interesting explaining just what happened here.”
He went down into the basement to play with his animals for a time. Link sure wasn’t in any hurry to set foot on Romaire property. He petted and talked to each animal. He gave them all a treat from a box of animal biscuits and then walked back up to ground level. He geared up carefully, then checked each weapon. He looked up as Father Palombo walked in, carrying a huge sack.
“Dynamite,” the young priest explained. “I worked my way through college doing construction work. I was a very good demolitions man. I don’t know what Father Lattier’s plans are for this evening, but I’ll create a lot of diversions for you. We’ll stop along the way and I’ll cap this stuff.”
“I suggest we take three vehicles,” Father Lattier said, walking in. He was carrying a small bag.
“You’re not armed, Father?” Mark asked.
“I’m armed with everything I need. I have a pistol under my jacket.” He walked to Link and faced him. Only a few inches separated the men. “Now you listen to me, Link. You’re dealing with the devil. Lynette can take the shape and form of anything, any person. She’ll try to trick you any way she can. You joked about a stake. It’s no joke. A sturdy rod, a knife, a stake . . . anything that will pierce the heart. That’s the only way she can die. Her husband and Judge Britton are mortal... to a degree. A fatal degree. It’s your mother that you’d better fear. And I mean fear. Get scared and stay scared. A little fear is good for the soul. In this case, more than you realize. If you succeed – and it’s an if, don’t doubt that – her body must be burned to ashes and the ashes sealed. Securely. Very securely. Along with the ashes in that urn that you’ll find out there. The urn contains the ashes of Peter Romaire.
“Mark is going to create diversions. He’ll enter from the south. I’ll enter from the front of the property. Don’t worry about us. Worry only about yourself and the job at hand. Understood?”
Link nodded his head.
“We’ll pray.”
* * *
“Such a tasty little morsel,” Judge Britton said, licking his lips and looking at Betsy.
“Go eat a booger,” the girl told him.
Britton looked at Anne. “And the men will be very happy to amuse themselves with you,” he told her. “After your lover makes his appearance and is properly disposed of.”
“We’ll crucify him and he can watch as the loyal followers have their way with the kids and with you, Anne,” Judge Jackson told her.
Lynette Jackson sat off to one side, in the gloom of shadows, deep in thought. She had never before experienced the emotions that were coursing through her body this night. They were strange emotions, stirring the evil, ancient, and cursed blood that pumped through her. Something – she wasn’t sure what it was – wasn’t quite right. She should be elated. Instead, she was depressed. She was experiencing no joy of victory. And she knew they had all but won. She could not understand what was troubling her. And she was experiencing another strange emotion, which was quite unlike her. Fear. But of what?
She looked at her husband. “Lock the woman and her brats in the office,” she told him.
Judge Britton winked at Betsy. “I’ll taste your charms soon, sweetie.”
“Gross!” the girl said.
“Mr. Link is gonna kill you!” Billy told him.
Britton slapped the boy, staggering him. “Hold your tongue, you puke. Or I’ll cut it out.”
Two men stood holding Anne. Their hands were busy roaming about her body. She stood impassively, knowing it was useless to try to fight. The mother and her children were put in a dusty office and the steel door locked.
“Mr. Link will get us out of here, won’t he, Mother?” Billy asked.
“Yes,” she said, with a lot more conviction than she felt. One man against two or three hundred? Impossible odds. “I’m sure he will.”
She had seen her son Chris that night. The boy had sneered at her and suggested to the group he was with some things that might be done to his mother, brother, and sister, with him taking a very active part. Disgusting.
Anne stood in the old office, holding hands with Billy and Betsy, fighting back the hard waves of sheer terror that threatened her sanity. She had to be strong for her kids. She had to be. Billy pulled away and walked to a window, looking down at the ground.
“Even if we could get out of here,” he said, “it’s a long drop down there and there are guards all over the place. Even if we busted out these little bitty windows, we couldn’t squeeze through. We’re stuck.”
“You kids remember your prayers from Bible School, don’t you?” Anne asked. They nodded their heads. “I think now would be a very good time to say them.”
* * *
“I think Tom will make it,” Cliff said. “The bullet passed through his side and he’s resting well. Jimmy’s legs are broken, but the bleeding has stopped.”
Link smiled at Cliff Sweeney and held out his hand. Cliff returned the smile and shook the offered hand. “I’ll see you around dawn, Cliff.”
“Right. God be with you this night, Link.” There was nothing else to say, so Cliff didn’t attempt it.
Link walked out to his Bronco, cranked it, and drove to the edge of the drive. He paused for a moment, then cut north. John Lattier and Mark Palombo followed him out.
Cliff walked back to Link’s study, sat down at the desk, and took out pen and paper. “This,” he said to no one in particular, “is going to be the damnedest report I have ever written in all my years with the Bureau.”
* * *
The gates to the old plant entrance were closed, as Link had suspected they would be. He drove on past, knowing many coven members were lying back in the darkness of the timber and brush, their eyes on him. He drove without lights for another quarter of a mile, then let the Bronco coast to a stop, not wanting to give away his position by braking.
He reached up, smashed the dome light with the butt of his pistol, and slipped out into the darkness, pulling his rucksack with him. He slipped the pack on, then stepped into the pines and the brush through a break in the old fence. He smiled as he recalled one of the questions the teenagers had asked him just before he left the house.
“You got a good plan, Mr. Link?”
Link had smiled. “I don’t even have a plan, Jerry. Much less a good one.”
He stood for a few moments, letting his eyes adjust to the night. He heard shooting and wondered if one of the priests had bought it this early in the game.
Then he heard a loud explosion and smiled. Mark was doing his thing with the dynamite. Link moved on, slowly and cautiously.
“Our guards report several men in the woods,” Judge Jackson was informed. “Obviously, Link did not come alone.”
“It will be the old priest and the young priest,” Lynette said, still sitting in the shadows. “I am sure of that.”
“That old fart Lattier?” Dick Marley said with a laugh. “Hell, he can’t do us any harm.”
“Don’t talk foolishness!” Lynette scolded him. “That old man is very powerful. He couldn’t physically harm any of you before. But you must remember: You all have given your souls to the master. The pact has been sealed. You are much closer to the Dark One than to anything else on this earth and in this life. The shadow of the cross can burn your flesh. A drop of holy water will sear you to the bone.”
A wild and hideous screaming sprang out of the timber around the complex. It was faint, but the words could be heard by all. “My eyes!” the man squalled. “He throwed water in my eyes and I can’t see. Oh, help me, I’m blind. I’m blind.”
“You see,” she cautioned them. “And while the young one might not know it, he is just as p
owerful as the old priest. If the Church sent him here to study under Lattier, he was chosen to be an exorcist. That is but one of Lattier’s fields. You all have as much to fear from the priests as you do from Link Donovan. Remember that.”
Another explosion crumpled in the night.
“That’ll be Donovan,” Charlie Ford said. “He likes big bangs.”
“That will not be Donovan,” Lynette corrected. “That is more than likely a diversion. Probably the young priest. Lattier coming from the front, Palombo from the south. That means that Donovan is prowling around from the north.”
“I’ll shift some men around,” Jack Matisse said. “He’ll not get in this plant.”
Yes, he will, Lynette thought. Her thoughts soured and became rancid in her mind. He’s won at every turn.
“Big fire to the south of us!” a man yelled. “And it’s goin’ up fast. Man, look at that glow.”
“The Garrison house,” Lynette spoke the words softly. “It has to be. And our master will not snuff it out this night.”
“What do you mean, darling?” her husband asked.
“It’s over. The master is backing away from this fight. If we are to win it, we will have to do it alone. He’s gone.”
“The controls?”
“Still in place.”
Over a hundred men and women were just outside the plant grounds and in the building itself. The word spread quickly.
“I want clear of this!” a man shouted. “This ain’t the way you promised it would be. I want out.”
Lynette opened her mouth and a wild roar sprang forth. The hideous shrieking tore down cobwebs and knocked out a few windows. It stunned the men and women gathered on the ground floor into silence. “Fools,” Lynette spoke in a normal tone and volume.
“You made a deal with the devil. The pact is sealed and set. You all belong to Satan. There is no turning back for any of you. You have to win here this night, and it has to be done before dawn. You have no place else to go. Did you think it was to be all debauchery and games? Well, you were wrong. You had your fun. Now you have to pay the price for it. We have to kill Link Donovan and the priests, and then we have to kill everybody remaining at Link’s house. They all must die. They all must die tonight. Now go. Do what your master commands of you. Go! Fight the fight and win. Do it!” She walked back into her quarters and closed the door.
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