Demonic Designs (To Absolve the Fallen)

by Babbitt, Aaron

  He felt drawn to the Bible on his desk. He fought that, determined to figure out what had gone so painfully wrong. However, the longer he lay on his bed, the more pressing the urge to begin reading the book became. Finally he succumbed to it. He opened the book to the first page of text. Genesis chapter one, verse one: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”

  ***

  Elizabeth felt vindicated. She hadn’t had any intention of scaring Alex so badly, but when she got to his room and saw his smug face, she lost control. It didn’t matter; she said what she was feeling, and that was important. He had to know that kind of behavior wouldn’t be tolerated. It was bad enough that Matt had been treated so badly throughout his life. It only made matter worse that Jeremiah treated him poorly. She was not going to allow yet another person to hurt him for something he had no control over. Maybe, one day, she would apologize for the way she had treated him, but that wouldn’t be for a long time—well after he’d proven himself to have basic human compassion. Elizabeth looked up the stairs, and she saw that Marla was coming down.

  Marla looked very concerned, “Liz, we have a problem.”

  “What?”

  “Jeremiah’s factory in Atlanta and his castle outside of Berlin have been blown up.”

  Elizabeth stopped climbing the steps. “When? How?”

  “They were destroyed simultaneously only minutes ago. It looks like they, whoever they are, used a lot of C-4.”

  “We could be in trouble. Where is Matt?”

  “I don’t know,” Marla replied. “I called his cell phone, but he didn’t answer.”

  Elizabeth pulled out her phone and tried Matt’s number and had the same luck. She dialed Jeremiah.

  After two rings, the demon answered, “Yes?”

  She explained the situation to him, and there was silence. Finally, he responded.

  “The factory was destroyed in an attempt to disrupt our finances—futile. The castle was blown up to send me yet another message. Ignore this attack; there isn’t anything you can do about it now.”

  “Are they going to attack the mansion?” Elizabeth demanded.

  “I doubt it. They know where we are. If they thought they could do anything significant to the mansion, they would have already. I have a small army of the best trained men in the United States there. I have state-of-the-art technology. And three prophets defend it. All of this is on top of my allies’ close vigil of the compound. If our security holds, there will be no way for them to get an explosive close enough to the mansion to inflict any real damage. If they should decide to march an army in to take it, they’ll be met with deadly force. I should think you have nothing to worry about. Goodbye.” And he hung up.

  Elizabeth cursed under her breath. Why was it that Jeremiah never seemed to be concerned? Didn’t he realize the implications of these actions? With the exception of the small army of retired special-ops forces he had here, Jeremiah’s defense of the area did not impress Elizabeth too much. Though, this was the first time she’d heard of the mansion being watched by allies of Jeremiah. She wondered what he meant by that.

  She told Marla to follow her, and she raced up the stairs. As soon as she got to her office, she sat behind her computer. There were seven other people doing random jobs on other computers, and they all stopped as soon as she entered the room. It wasn’t often that Liz seemed so rushed. She put on a headset and pushed one of many buttons on a keypad next to her computer.

  “Higgins?... Where is Matt?... He left? Where did he go?... Goddamit. Lock down the compound. When he gets back I want to speak with him immediately.”

  She clicked the same button to end the transmission and returned the headset to its holder.

  “Well,” Marla asked, “where is he?”

  “Higgins doesn’t know,” Liz replied shortly, “but I have a pretty good idea.” She turned to one of her assistants and ordered, “Locate Matt’s cell phone and car with GPS.” She pecked away, furiously, at her keyboard.

  After a few minutes the assistant said, “We have him. Both are in the same location. They’re on the corner of 26th street and Main. It’s a bar called The Flow. Do you want me to phone the establishment?”

  Elizabeth sighed and thought for a moment. “No. Leave him alone. I’ve been told that this isn’t an emergency. He probably wouldn’t be much good to us anyway.”

  ***

  “Another drink?” the bartender yelled over the deep bass techno thump.

  Matt looked up. He was already feeling the effects of the previous two. “Sure. Why not? Actually, give me two.”

  He threw some cash down on the bar and rapidly drained the two shots in front of him. His world was starting to lose its vicious edge. Life was a little easier to accept when he didn’t have to think about it with a clear mind. Though alcohol had a way of making the drinker focus on problems, the problems didn’t make as much sense. They were almost fantasy but still troubling. Then, there was a hand on his shoulder.

  “Want to dance?” a twenty-something man asked him.

  “No,” Matt answered. “I’m not really in a dancing mood.”

  The man considered this and responded, “Okay. Then, do you want to fuck?”

  Matt laughed. “You get right to the point, don’t you?”

  The man nodded. “You’re here for some reason. I think I’m here for the same reason. May as well get right to the point.”

  Matt stood up from the bar, wobbly. “I like your directness. That sounds like fun.”

  “I hope so,” the other agreed. He put a bill with Benjamin Franklin’s head on it on the counter. The bartender gave him a key, and then he and Matt headed off to the other end of the dance floor. They walked into a hallway that was marked in bold, red lettering, “Private.” There were several doors that lined the walls. They found the room that matched the number on their key and went inside.

  ***

  As soon as Jeremiah hung up on Elizabeth, he dialed a number that he believed would lead him to answers. After a few rings a man answered, “Hawthorne.”

  “Tell me why I’m angry,” Jeremiah began.

  “I heard. I’m sorry,” the man said, obviously recognizing to whom he spoke.

  “Not yet, you aren’t. I pay you ridiculous amounts of money to keep up on things. There are only so many ways to come up with C-4, and, among other things, you’re supposed to watch those channels very carefully.”

  The other’s voice was shaky. “Sir, I knew that it had been purchased, but I had no way of guessing who bought it or why.”

  Jeremiah laughed. “You’re telling me that, as the director of the Central Intelligence Agency, you cannot figure out who is buying up the C-4 in the world? I think you can. I think you’re not trying hard enough. Perhaps, I made a mistake in putting you into that position. I wonder if someone else would have served me better.”

  “Sir,” Hawthorne continued, regaining his composure, “your enemies apparently have very impressive ways of hiding their actions.”

  “Tom, how are your wife and son doing?”

  “Leave them out of this.”

  Jeremiah chuckled menacingly. “Do not presume to tell me what I will and will not do. Your son is enjoying his second year at Harvard, is he not?”

  “You know he is.” Hawthorne’s voice grew shaky once more.

  “He’s a good boy, isn’t he?”

  “Yes he is.”

  “I’ll be frank,” said the demon. “I think you’re playing both sides against each other to find the highest bidder. And I don’t like it.”

  “You’re accusing me of betraying you?”

  “I’m accusing you of turning a blind eye. Your son’s safety is important to me, and I want it to be equally important to you. Do the job I’ve paid you to do.” With that, Jeremiah snapped his cell phone shut.

  ***

  It was hours later when Matt finally got home. When he got to the gate, the guard who greeted him told him that Elizabeth needed to spe
ak with him urgently. He’d seen her name on his missed calls. He had also seen Higgins’s and Marla’s names. What had been so important? Was someone hurt? He immediately returned her call. She seemed none too happy to be hearing from him so late. She explained the situation, and he knew that he’d fallen down on the job. It was fortunate that Elizabeth’s fears didn’t come true, but he thought he could hear a tone of disappointment in her voice. It didn’t help that he was still pretty drunk, and he hurt all over.

  “I’m so sorry, Liz,” he slurred.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she replied, seeming to return to her loving, forgiving nature. “What’s important is that everyone’s safe. Well, here anyway. Jeremiah assured me of that much.”

  “I’m driving up to the mansion now. I’ll be upstairs after I get something to eat.”

  “I’ll meet you in the mess hall. You sound like you need someone to talk to.”

  Matt thought about it. “I do need something, but I think what I need you to do is just be there. I would like it very much if you joined me.”

  Her voice took on a southern accent that she thought she had lost after years of being around this mansion. “Well, I do declare, Mr. Hartley...It’s a date!”

  “Good. Then, we can watch a movie or something.”

  Her southern accent still going strong, she replied, “Mr. Hartley, if I didn’t know better, I would say you are trying to win my heart.”

  “We’re not watching another damned chick flick.”

  She lost the accent. “Okay, okay,” she conceded, chuckling. “I suppose you’re paid up on those. But no Kung-Fu movies either. We’ll compromise with a comedy; we desperately need a laugh.”

  “I agree,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few.”

  “Bye.”

  He hit “end” on the cell phone and pulled his small, red convertible into the garage next to his motorcycle. He got out and grunted in pain. His head was throbbing from the alcohol, and his back, thighs, and ass ached from his masochistic marathon at The Flow. He knew the first place he should go when he got into the mansion was the basement, which not only held the security center, but it also had around-the-clock medical support with nurses. One nurse, Cameron, was Matt’s favorite—a fit brunet, fresh out of college. Cameron was still working nights from having to balance school with the generous income Jeremiah rewarded to those who were competent and discreet. Matt was pretty sure Cameron wasn’t gay; he might have even mentioned something about a girlfriend at some point, but Matt had enough liquid courage in him at the moment to test his luck. Shaking his head, he decided he’d punished himself enough for one evening and that Liz might not forgive him another indiscretion. He probably didn’t need an aspirin that badly anyway.

  When he got into the dining room, there were very few people in it, which was convenient because he was in no mood to talk to any of his subordinates. He saw Elizabeth sitting at the “family table,” as Jeremiah had dubbed it, and it appeared as though she was enthralled in whatever she was reading.

  Matt sat down and asked, “What’ve you got there?”

  She peered over the stapled pages and replied triumphantly, “Jeremiah’s phone record.”

  That made him pause. He looked at her, trying to decipher what kind of mischief she was up to. “Why?”

  “I want to find out who else is on our side,” she answered defensively.

  Matt put up his hands. “Fine. I don’t care. I was just curious.”

  She puffed up her bottom lip, smiled, and went back to reading. Matt only rolled his eyes and looked away. Where was the maître d’? As if in answer to his wishes, Martin walked through the door and headed their direction.

  “May I help you?” he inquired, directing the question to both Matt and Liz.

  “Nothing for me,” Liz replied, not taking her eyes off the documents.

  “And you, sir?” Martin inquired.

  “Uh, I need something heavy. How about chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes.”

  “Anything to drink?”

  Matt wanted to ease the tension in his head. “Yeah, I’ll have a beer.”

  Elizabeth looked up and scowled at him.

  “Or not,” Matt said, defeated. “Water, please.”

  “Very good,” Martin replied and jotted down the order in his book.

  “Actually,” Elizabeth added, “could you just have that delivered to my room?”

  “Of course,” Martin affirmed. He stood there for a moment to make sure there was nothing else to add, and then he left toward the kitchen.

  Elizabeth stood up. “Let’s watch the movie in my room. Yours is a mess.”

  Matt scoffed, “How would you know? You haven’t been in my room in a couple of days. Maybe I cleaned it up.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Maybe, but I doubt it.”

  “You’re right,” he agreed. “Your room is too girly, though.”

  “Ha! If by girly, you mean clean, I will take that as a compliment.”

  “Whatever.” Matt stood, too. “It’s not worth it to argue with you.”

  “That’s true.”

  On their way to Elizabeth’s room, Matt asked, “Did you talk to Alex?”

  Elizabeth only nodded.

  “What did he say?”

  She sighed. “He said he’d try harder to be nice in the future. Let’s not talk about him.”

  “Okay.”

  ***

  Alex read until the alarm clock next to his bed told him it was eight o’clock in the evening. He was exhausted, and his eyes were burning. For the last hour his stomach had been begging to be filled. He thought it was probably safe to leave his room now, and he went into the dining hall. He sat down at the table he and Marla had been at earlier that day. Within minutes a man in a white waiter’s outfit with an apron approached him.

  “May I help you, sir?”

  Alex nodded and asked, “What are you serving?”

  Martin looked confused. “Anything you would like.”

  The first thing that came to Alex’s mind was a cheeseburger and fries, so that’s what he told Martin, who wrote it down in a book and asked if Alex would like anything else.

  “No, thank you,” he answered. “Oh,” Alex corrected, “I guess I’d like a root beer, too.”

  The waiter told him he would be right back with the root beer, and it would be about ten minutes on the food. Then, he left. Alex looked around to the other tables, and it startled him to notice that many people were staring at him. Of course, as soon as he started looking around, they all quickly went back to their meals.

  After ten minutes, the waiter brought out Alex’s meal. The burger was thick, and the fries were piled high. Alex wondered if he was getting special treatment. It was nice to think that he was getting respect somewhere, even if it was only from the kitchen staff. He asked the waiter if it would be possible to get breakfast in his room in the morning.

  “Certainly,” Martin replied, making a note of it in his little book. “What time would you like it?”

  Alex thought on that for a moment. Matt had told him to be ready by eight, so he told Martin that he needed it by no later than a quarter after seven. He wanted time for his food to settle before he engaged in whatever Matt had planned for him. The waiter said that he’d make sure of it himself and left Alex to his meal.

  He ate his food and, uncertain of etiquette, left his dishes on the table as he had done earlier this morning with Marla. He went back to his room and picked up the Bible again. He had been trudging his way through Leviticus when he’d left. He decided that the Bible could wait, and he went over to the CDs that had been brought in for him. He picked up the CD titled BeLIEve, and he put it in the machine. There was a soft spinning as the CD player read the disk and began to play the music.

  He lay on his bed and let the music take him away to a better place. Lonny told him, “Pain is a tool that gives us strength.” Alex would usually agree, except that today it did little more than hurt him. He set his al
arm clock for six-thirty and drifted off as Nisus comforted him.

  Chapter 6

  I get sad when I remember all of the friends I’ve left behind. When one lives as long as I have, she begins to wonder what purpose there is in fighting. Certainly, most of the people for whom I have fought are now dead and buried. Then, I realize it’s not for them that I fought, rather it is the principle of the fight that has kept me going so long. As long as there is evil and pain in the world, I fear that I will always have something to fight for and something to fight against. I have not known a new friendship in a very long time; I have since given up on the prospect for fear of yet another loss. But I do envy those who revel in new relationships. The Good Book tells us that a person can have no greater love than to lay down his life for a friend. I counter that it is far more important to live for another in such a way that honors not only both friends but the relationship itself.

  --Abigail Martin, Through the Eyes of a Martyr

  Alex woke to the sound of his alarm clock going off. He felt around for the button to terminate the offensive noise. The ringing fell to silence, and he was about to drift back into his pleasant slumber when the events of the previous day came rushing in on him. No. He had to get up now and face Matt. Whatever he had done, inadvertently, would have to be rectified today. He walked across the room toward the bathroom.

  Again, Alex became entranced by the shower, but he didn’t spend hardly as long in it this time. He exited refreshed and changed into another set of clothes and hoped that someone had more clothes or that they’d wash one of the other outfits. One thing he hated very much was to walk around in clothes that weren’t clean. He’d had to do it for several of the last few days, and now that he was somewhere that likely had a washer and dryer, Alex felt no need for it to happen again.

  He slipped on his shoes and looked at the clock; it was seven. He had a few minutes before his breakfast would be arriving and nearly an hour before he was expected to meet with Matt. He looked at the Bible on the desk and thought it best to delve into God’s word a little more before he went to face a very challenging task. He only wished that Leviticus wasn’t where he’d left off. He thought he might be able to pull a little more from a different book. The laws of Moses weren’t altogether that interesting or thought-provoking. In fact, many of them seemed outdated and irrelevant. Some of them even seemed horribly flawed and vile.